The Renowned Chef

Pasques felt a rough hand grip upon his shoulder, his chefs apron being crushed into his white shirt. “But my lord, I have strived so hard to impress you my meat was the most tender that would ever grace your lips!”. Feeling a sharp pain enter his stomach Pasques felt the fist of Lord Vayne’s second enter his ribcage. “You, monster will not face the hangman's knot for this instead you will be exiled, I only can hope that the bandits, rapists or monsters take you  even that is far too kind for a creature as reviled as you “Chef.” Lord vayne motioned his fingers and with that Pasques was drug out of the audience chamber, his heels dragging upon the cold stone floor. 

Laughter and disgust echoed through the keep as Pasques was shamefully pulled away from the keep, the light disappearing in the distance. Various rotten vegetables and human filth were thrown upon Pasques as he was escorted out of the town various insults filling the night sky.

Weeping heavily Pasques’ mind filled with shame not of his current predicament but that of the failure of not impressing the great lord Vayne Draithmir.

It took great effort for Pasques to attain his “meat” finding the right volunteer had been hard. Stalking the night in Hope Pasques had followed what seemed like an incredibly poor woman. He crept behind her trying desperately to muffle his brown leather boots that splashed through the mud covering the poor district. 

Hardly any light shone in this area of town it was perfect for Pasques, perfect for him to find his “meat”. As the woman approached her small wooden hovel, the only one with light still illuminating it she turned around feeling she was being followed. Pasques dived behind a nearby hovel its lights extinguished.

Worry had filled the womans face meanwhile Pasques smiled with devilish intent, rubbing his meat cleaver slowly nicking his hand slightly as he did so. Pasques gazed downwards and reached for the rope hanging upon his brown leather cord of a belt. A small thud rung out nearby as the woman entered her home and just as Pasques stalked towards the door his ears were pierced by an all too familiar sound. A baby.

The cries rang out and as they did so Pasques gripped the rope in one hand his meat cleaver in the other. “Fresh meat” he sniggered as he approached the decayed wooden door. As the door creaked ever so slightly Pasques gazed into the room to see the young woman cradling the child, the baby playing with her long silver hair. Charging forward with an almost demonic malaise about him the young woman turned to Pasques her previously love filled face now that of pure fear. 

Raising the meat cleaver high Pasques swung his blade towards the woman who had fallen to the floor trying to block Pasques from the now screaming infant. The scream turned from loud and ear piercing to that of silent whimpering as Pasques swung violently the blood staining his chefs apron and white tunic. The blade cut through the woman's tattered green summer dress its once summer floral pattern instead now bloodstained. The whimpering came to an abrupt end as the demonic blade came down upon the woman's head. Pasques struggled slightly trying to dislodge the blade from the woman's now scarlet face.

Snapping back into reality Pasques could see his bounty laying underneath the barely recognisable woman. The screaming still ringing through the house, pots pans and furniture knocked over. The scene was grisly and as Pasques eyed up the child as a cat would eye a bird he wrapped his arms around the infant and for a moment the child quietened down. Pasques let out a light laugh as the child wrapped its hand around his chunky finger, blood still clinging to it.

With a small thud Pasques left the Hovel and disappeared into the night. With a stinging pain grazing him Pasques was brought back his surroundings fading back in suddenly. The Keep guards looked down upon Pasques his distended belly hanging outside of his shirt. “Lord Vayne wants us to let the forests take you but not before you suffer a little first you fucking monster”. The guardsman raised his iron boot and stomped down upon Pasques’ left ankle and with a sound imitating that of breaking porcelain pain filled Pasques’ mind.

Both keep guards began to stomp down upon Pasques’ form with increasing fervor and as quickly as the pain had come Pasques felt his consciousness fade. “Little bastards passed out” one of the guards uttered as he laughed patting himself upon the chest, his hands ruffling against the iron chestplate. The other guardsman turned towards the first and spoke while pulling a small iron dagger from his belt. “Let's leave the little bastard something to remember us by”.

The guardsman grabbed pasques by the hand and dragged his defeated form to a nearby fallen tree trunk and upon placing pasques’ hand upon the trunk, the guardsman slammed the dagger down into pasques’ hand seemingly pinning him to the trunk.

A foul smell filled Pasques’ nose as he awoke among the swampland. Feeling the shooting pain all over his body he noticed it was most concentrated in his hand which had exsanguinated heavily during the night. Pasques was disturbed when he heard a noise emanating from a nearby bush. Small eyes could be seen leering at him and as Pasques’ mind began to imagine what horror awaited him, he saw the creatures exit the bush. 

Grey matted fur, Discoloured white fangs and murderous red eyes gazing right in his direction Pasques quickly realised what the creatures were that were steadily heading towards him. Wolves. 

Frantically Pasques glanced around him looking for anything that could be perceived as a weapon. Fruitless he was then brought to the attention of the shooting pain carrying through his hand. Noticing the iron dagger sticking out from his hand Pasques with a monstrous roar almost that akin to the wolves who had grown closer, their paws trudging across the wet swampland grass.

Leering in from behind an old rotten oak tree, two glinting murky green eyes watched in delight as they looked upon the cowering form that had taken the small sharp object previously lodged in their hand. Chuckling sadistically with spittle flowing down his cheeks Grundig licked his lips with ravenous intent. “Mhmmm the meat should be extra tender, if those damn wolves leave anything for us, stupid greedy wolves so much other meat out there why take Grundig’s”.

The Growling growing louder Pasques backed himself up upon the bloodstained oak log. Snarling wildly the alpha of the wolfpack approached Pasques, drool left underfoot. Lunging forward, it’s grey matted fur bristling through the air the alpha wolf was suddenly thrown from its trajectory as Pasques raised the blade in a diagonal arc in front of him, his strike was true as the blade carved through alpha wolf’s jaw nearly dislodging it altogether. 

The beast crashed into the oak log behind him and as it did the other wolves looked upon Pasques snarling. In a show of superiority he tightened his grip around the blade, fur and sinew still clinging to the small iron blade Pasques drove the blade through the now whimpering alpha wolf’s head with increased vigor he began stabbing wilding upon the poor beast which still clung to what little life it had.

Snickering with a demonic smile across his pursed lips Pasques looked at the now quivering wolf pack who had begun to retreat into the brush their eyes filling with sadness as the once proud leader of their pack now lay as a bloody mess of fur and flesh. Pasques looked upon his now gored clothes the formerly black breeches now stained with splotches of crimson, his chefs apron covered in various wolf chunks. Grundig approached softly rustling through the bushes as he did so, crawling upon his spindly hands and legs his loincloth and tattered fur vest scraping against the occasional twig.

“Shares it with us” Grundig muttered as he licked his lips ferociously the spittle dripping down his chin as he did so. Pasques still filled with a murderous haze turned to face the gangly creature. Barely representing a humanoid form Pasques looked at the creature with curiosity, the mans strange deformed body, his longer stick like arms and legs and in sharp contrast his fat bulging belly that hung out from the vest that was seemingly made of various types of skin.

Tearing a strip of cloth from his sweat laden white tunic Pasques began to wrap the strip around his hand the flows of crimson seemingly stopping as he did so. Mesmerised by the blood flow Grundig was brought back to the present as Pasques raised his voice “What creature, what do you seek” Giggling like that of a little girl Grundig spoke clearly for once “we wants the flesh, we are hungry”. 

Feeling slightly threatened Pasques brandished the blade and pointed it in the creatures direction “Not from me you dastardly little beast, your meat may not be great but i’m sure I could make a great stew from you”. “Not much meat on us little human, but you make food yes?” Grundig retorted his dagger like teeth contorting into a smile. “Not just food creature i create perfection, perfection this world cannot comprehend. It was so pure so moist. So tender.” The creature had sat down its thin legs crossing over one another. “Tell us more, you like the man flesh too?” Grundig spoke fascination emanating from his body. 

“Not just man-flesh little creature, i had prepared the most exotic of meals, 2 week old infant served on boiled potatoes seasoned with a condensed bone and salt mix” Pasques proudly spoke like that of a parent describing their child. “Maybe chef can makes Grundig food” Motioning to the slaughtered wolf lying at Pasques’ feet Grundig begin to dance and jive with enthusiasm.

“And what would i get little creature?” Pasques spoke with a tone of arrogance. “Grundig make you treasure, bring you more man meet. Just feed Grundig and we catch all the walking crunchies.” Amused Pasques raised his chubby index finger to his clean shaven chin and gently brushed it “Perhaps, maybe this way i could hone my technique and make lord Vayne see what he missed out on.”

Grundig crawled over to Pasques and stood up supporting Pasques whos ankle was blackened and twisted from the soldiers punishment the night prior. Pasques looked down upon the creature it's oddly hunched back pushing up against his left arm. “What are you creature?” Guffawing the creature simple spoke “We are Grundig, Grundig is swamp” Barely understanding what the creature meant Pasques just nodded his head awkwardly. “What were you doing back there anyway i could have used your help sooner with the wolves. Had they started their attack i would be as good as dead and none would ever taste my beautiful food again.

Placing his emaciated pale hand on the back of his misshapen head Grundig spoke “We was going to eat you, it didn't look good for you but you surprised grundig and there was still meat at the end of it” Grundig began to look upon the flayed and broken body of the wolf his lips dripping with drool. 

“My meat is not for tasting creature least of all for the likes of you, now little creature let us get to work” Pasques spoke while trying to ignore the pain spreading through his twisted ankle. Grundig supported Pasques as he led him to the creatures little encampment. Various bones and strange talismans hung around the small campfire, a small tent nearby.

“This Grundig’s home, now your home” Grundig spoke as he resumed crawling on all fours. Pasques took in his surroundings noting a small set of iron stained pans roasting an unknown meat upon it. Pasques noted the strange texture of the tent as his fingers grazed the outside of it and then to slight horror as well as amusement he saw a male human face stitched into the tent, its face seemingly in horror though that could have been Grundig’s patchwork stitching. 

“Quite the resourceful creature” Pasques noted. Looking behind him he could see Grundig scurrying off into the distance in the wolf’s direction. Pasques took in his surroundings it was nothing like the kitchen he was used to at Lord Vayne’s residence, no longer did he have access to large cast iron pots and pans, fresh vegetables nor the odd servant to abuse but it would do for now and now he did not need to hide his lust for human meat.

...Three months later. As the seasons past and summertime faded into autumn the trees of the swamplands shedding their leaves as a caterpillar sheds its cocoon, Pasques and Grundig had became quite the team with Grundig gathering and tricking weary travelers into sitting by his campfire offering meals prepared by Pasques who had spiked the food with a dark swampland flower “The midnight mistress” a dark amethyst coloured flower its dagger like leaves swirling around the midnight black bulb. The mistress was a potent poison that in small doses would simply put the imbiber into a deep sleep however too much and the imbiber would sleep forever. 

Two weary travelers sat around the campfire, their trip had been long and hard as they desperately tried to survive the perilous journey throughout the swampland hoping to reach Hope for a moment of respite. The old man had taken his long brown cloak off and wrapped it around his shivering wife who had been ill prepared for the journey, her hands shivering in the mist laden camp. “Thank you kind sirs for your offer of company, tis a rare commodity in this part of the world” the old man spoke his greying black handlebar moustache rising as he smiled towards Pasques. 

“Not a problem friend we only seek to help those who are not offered aid by the so called “Great Lord Vayne”. What brings you here then friends?” Pasques spoke as a small amount of dribble ran down his lips as he gazed at the mans younger wife. She looked so close to the woman Pasques had taken the infant from the previous summer she even wore a similar floral dress albeit a smoky red than the green his original victim had worn.   

The previously friendly face of the older gentleman had turned to that of a scowl as he noted Pasques’ lustful face eyeing up his porcelain skinned wife her hair flowing in the midnight breeze, trails of starlight reflecting from her silver hair and sea blue eyes. “Just what are you staring at friend, we appreciate your help however i will ask you not to stare so suggestively at my wife” The old man spoke sternly rising from the rickety oak chair his rapier making a ringing noise as it bounded against the leg of the chair.

“Oh come now friend, nothing personal was meant by my gaze i am just bewitched by her, your are truly a lucky man. Perhaps we can make this right , why don't you try some of my stew it has been bubbling over the fire for a while now”. Calm glazing over his face, a fiendish grin stretching across it Pasques took the hot iron ladle and grabbed for a nearby battered iron bowl, resembling more that of a soldiers skull cap helmet Pasques lathered the helmet like bowl with various juices spilling upon the floor as he brought the two together.

“Such fresh chunks of meat, my friend you are blessed to have such food in this part of the world” Pasques spoke as his pride slipped into his voice. The old man's scowl dropped into a more neutral expression as he once again took his seat, his matching brown leather jerkin and breeches grazing softly against the unwieldy chair. “Perhaps i was taking things too personally friend i apologize.” Turning to his wife who had stopped shaking instead embracing the flames, the orange light reflecting on her pale skin, the old man spoke calmly “Darling here eat this it will build your strength, if we are to make it through this blighted land we must remain strong”. Looking upon him She smiled accepting the bowl from Pasques.

The night grew dark as the fire dimmed around the campfire. The old man looked down upon his wife who had seemingly fallen asleep against his shoulder, her flowing silver locks bracing around his arm. Pasques turned to the old man and spoke clearly “A very tasty looking girl she is friend, i'm sure she is quite the wild one” The old man once again shocked looked upon the seemingly obese chef who sat upon a small stool the night sky reflecting from his filthy apron and shirt. “I may have forgiven you once friend but i shall not do so again!” the old man shouted with anger in his voice. The old man turned his head to his wife who had not awoken for some time and began to shake her. “Darling? Darling come along.” No response came from the woman her previously pale skin somehow even more white and extremely cold to the touch.

“It's a shame, i had hoped to have made this easier. All you had to do was eat the stew and it could have been over so quick but instead you have chosen the less gentlemanly approach.”  Pasques sighed with sadness. The old man rose to his feet “What have you done monster!” he demanded as his face contorted with misery, his eyes welling with tears. 

“The sweet lady has another purpose now friend, she will be adding her strength to mine, you were too weak to protect her, now she lays dead and it is all your fault” Pasques began to cackle as he reached for his  makeshift meat cleaver. “I will have you beast and when i do i shall ensure you suffer” the old man spoke ferociously as he reached for his rapier. 

To the old man's surprise the blade was not where it previously lay upon his belt. As he desperately patted his hand for where the blade was formerly resting he felt a darting pain spread through his knee as the blade pierced through from behind. “Grundig gets it, grundig gets the man meat, you keep boney woman”. Grundig spoke in delight as he removed the blade and began piercing the man wildly as spurts of crimson sprayed out like a fountain from the quivering body that slammed against the ground with a loud thud. 

As the body lay still quivering Grundig pounced upon the man whose screams had become muffled from the sound of blood filling his throat and lungs Grundig had not even had the decency to let the old man expire instead the man's eyes looked on in horror as the gangly creature like a shark began to bite chunks out of the trembling man’s face.

Like a patchwork horror the old man’s labored breathing and screaming ceased when Grundig ripped out a chunk of flesh from the man’s throat. Pasques looked on in anger before shouting at Grundig “Well done you oaf you have ruined the meat.” Grundig looked up at pasques various little chunks of flesh falling from his lips as he did so. “Old man not good for your cooking, grundig just use this one so friend can enjoy the girl”. Pasques then once again gazed upon the woman her soft features barely glowing among the small amount of light that shone through the camp.

Placing his hand upon her face letting it glide down Pasques could feel the ice cold touch to her skin, the midnight mistress had carried out her work excellently. Taking a small iron blade from his belt Pasques cut away the dress revealing her bare body in the twilight. With an insidious grin Pasques spoke softly “I can't wait to taste all of you”.