The Invited Horror

An invitation

   A generous chunk of juicy steak lands on a well-oiled stainless pan, and serenades the lavish kitchen with a satisfying sizzle. Juice gushes from the butter basted meat; it glistens and blesses the warmly lit kitchen with a playful and tantalizing aroma.

  Spotless copper pans hang from a wrought-iron rack overhead. Below, the cold stainless countertop reflects the warm orange glints. Racks of plants, like a color palette, ranging from rosemary, thyme, basil, cloves, and saffron. They sit patiently in their well-watered pots, looking out the window. Above them, dried herbs in pristine glass bottles glisten under the pendant lights. In a corner, a professional stove hosts deep blue flames that dance elegantly, heating a pot of creamy clam chowder. It bubbles and pops proudly. Its rich profile, hinted by the whisper of seafood, tantalizes anyone who passes by.

  A chef, with hawk-like precision in his eyes, controls his pan with a clean towel wrapping around the handle. Flame roars and soars as he vigorously shakes the pan, tossing pasta with elegant motions. Holding a bottle of high-quality brandy in the other hand, like a snake coiling before striking, he pours the brandy into the pan, flambéing the pasta. The brandy's woody profile mixes with the sweet cream sauce. Swiftly, he plates the aromatic linguine. Voila, Brandy Eleganza Linguine.

  For some discerning food critics, this dish might strike them as disdaining. However, Brandy Eleganza Linguine keeps the restaurant bustling with ravenous customers each evening. This exquisite, Michelin-worthy Italian restaurant is Sophia's pride. Her high standards and strict demands are what's keeping her restaurant popular.

  Sophia is proud of her establishment and revels in the incessant compliments. Like a good plate of Risotto al Tartufo, satisfying, yet never enough. Behind the prestigious facade and its seemingly friendly atmosphere, a dark secret lurks. Sophia's exceedingly high standards have not only led to countless firings but also a tragedy - One employee took his own life, and Sophia refuses to acknowledge it as her fault.

  Every day, before Sophia's arrival, the kitchen buzzes with rowdy and boisterous chattering. Sophia's chefs would prepare various ingredients with uplifting energy, they enjoy bantering and sharing stories with each other. However, the moment Sophia enters, the kitchen, reminiscent of a war room, falls to pin-drop silence. Every cook mans their station, conducting the symphony of precise chopping, faucet running, pans sizzling, and kitchenware clanking.

  Like a panther on the prowl, Sophia circles her kitchen, casting sharp gaze around the kitchen. Despite the cooks' resentment from feeling that she fails to acknowledge their hard work and achievement, there's one thing they can't deny: Sophia is a very talented and accomplished chef.

  "Tonight is a very special night, many prestigious guests are coming to taste my new dish. You better not fuck it up," Sophia says coolly, a glint of hostile tone lingers.

  "Yes chef!" the cooks answer unanimously, their eyes never stray from the work in front of them. In sweltering heat, their voices pierce through the cacophony of pans scraping against the stove and food sizzling. Despite the kitchen being stuffy and hot like an oven, none of them dare to allow a single bead of sweat to emerge. It's an unspoken respect and professionalism to the food and their passion, but Sophia deems it as their respect and fear to her.

  As the night puts the sleepy wink of stars to bed, the patrons reluctantly finish their final dish. It was another successful night. As Sophia's cooks gulp down water and take a break they damn well deserve, she walks out of the kitchen into the dining area. Thunderous clapping seeps through the swinging door into the kitchen, as the cooks swallow their bitter resentment.

  After basking in her guests' admiration, Sophia returns to her office. Stacks of paper sit neatly on her desk, a tiny air purifier hums, and tasteful watercolor paintings hanging on the wall. Unlike the warmly lit kitchen outside, icy light cascades from a low hanging pendant light fixture illuminates the office.

  Still giddy from the praise, she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and revels in the fragrance of herbs permeating the room. She approaches a bookshelf and picks up a bottle of fine wine, she congratulates and allows herself a little more than she could handle. When she plops down on an office chair in front of her writing desk, she notices a white envelope, sealed by beautiful burgundy wax with an intricate seal.

  Sophia opens it with a butter knife and reads: It's an invitation.