entered a large, bustling kitchen. There were pots and pans simmering everywhere she looked, as well as several large ovens. Kitchen staffers in aprons were running around in a manic way, tending to various cooking tasks as a man dressed all in white walked among them, barking out orders. Daphne was astonished. It was as if she had wandered into the kitchen of a major big city restaurant rather than some backwoods diner catering to hillbilly cannibals.
No one paid her any mind as Floyd deftly steered Daphne through the chaos. Her eyes were drawn in many directions at once. Much of the food being prepared was standard country kitchen fare. Green beans, pork chops, grits, gravy, biscuits, bacon, and mashed potatoes, among many other hearty offerings. But any impression of normality was demolished once they reached the back of the kitchen and entered a smaller room used for butchering animal carcasses. A big steel door at the back of the room indicated the likely location of a meat freezer. But these were not the things that instilled fresh terror in Daphne’s heart. This was where the live food was kept, the human kind, and she wasn’t the only unfortunate here today.
Two women and a man hung suspended from a beam. They were in manacles connected to thick lengths of chain. A system of pulleys was attached to the beam, allowing for easy lifting and suspension. The women hanging from the rafter—a blonde and a brunette—were young and attractive, though that was marred somewhat by the abuse they had endured. One was slender, with the taut musculature of a runner. The other had more meat on her bones. She had a curvaceous build and long blonde hair. A smattering of colorful tattoos decorated her arms and legs. Clean her up and she could be one of those sexy alternative pinup models or burlesque dancers. The man, however, was so obese Daphne was surprised the rafter could sustain his weight. He had an enormous bloated belly. Two of the strung-up unfortunates—the woman with the runner’s build and the fat man—no longer had feet. These extremities had been surgically removed, with crimson-stained bandages covering the stumps.
The door to the meat freezer came open with a waft of cold, misty air. One of the most beautiful women Daphne had ever seen emerged from the freezer and shut the heavy door behind her. Her salon-styled dark hair hung past her shoulders in lush waves. She had a face with the kind of striking bone structure that could have made her a star in Hollywood. Her outfit consisted of stylish black riding boots, designer jeans so tight they looked spray-painted on, and a form-fitting black top that emphasized a rack that was nothing short of majestic. Daphne was stupefied by the woman’s appearance, her brain initially unable to process the presence of such a goddess in a place like Mama Hunt’s Diner. The woman’s looks were so distracting it was briefly possible to overlook the sight of the blood-dripping meat cleaver clutched in her right hand.
This lasted until the goddess approached the strung-up woman with the runner’s build from behind and buried the cleaver in her back. The woman’s body spasmed as the sharp steel punched through her flesh. She screamed loud enough to hurt Daphne’s ears, but the kitchen staff never flinched. They continued to go about their jobs as if nothing unusual was happening. Even the woman who had performed the horrifying act displayed a disturbing nonchalance. The only people with a different reaction were Cletus and Floyd, who were giggling like demented schoolchildren.
The goddess signaled two large men in bloody aprons with a tilt of her chin. The men had been stationed at long wooden tables, where they were busy butchering animal carcasses. But now they abandoned their posts as one of them moved to operate the pulley system while the other stood ready to collect the screaming woman in his muscular arms.
The goddess left them to this task as she approached Daphne
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