Who Goes There?

"Do you have a restroom?" I gazed anxiously at the disinterested cashier. This was the third place I had stopped, and if I didn't find a restroom soon, my next stop would be a department store to buy new jeans. For the millionth time, I regretted the Big Gulp that I had been drinking on my trip to my parents' house.

"Sure, it's through those double doors in the back." She didn't bother looking up from the magazine she was reading.

"Thanks!" I wasn't sure that she heard since I was already on my way, but I was sure that she didn't care anyway.

I arrived at the back of the store with lightning speed and, to my chagrin, I found there were two sets of double doors. As I was now to the point of crossing my legs as I stood there, I quickly made my decision and burst through the set labeled "For Authorized Personnel Only." I immediately regretted my hasty choice.

It was though I had walked onto the set of a horror movie! Three people were strapped to tables and another, half conscious, was chained to what appeared to be a commercial meat grinder. A menacing-looking man wearing an apron appeared to be feeding something into the grinder but, seemingly alarmed by my chaotic entry, he turned his attention to me. As he started toward me, I noticed that he was holding a meat cleaver dripping with blood. I relieved my bladder right there, and the irony wasn't lost on me that I no longer needed a restroom.

"You look a little plump, but your meat should be nice and tender," he said while appraising me. He pinched one of my love handles to further make his point, but I was too scared to be insulted.

"W...What do you want?" I was surprised that the shaky timid voice was my own.

"You must be a dense one! Aren't you aware of our reputation as the store with the freshest meat in Chicago? How do you think we got that reputation?" He continued to stare at me as if I were a cow ready to be slaughtered, and I finally realized that's exactly what I was to him. I tried to stall him while I looked for an escape.

"I...I've never shopped here before. I don't even live in Chicago. I just had to stop to..." He stopped my blabbering by grabbing my hand.

"Even better. Nobody to miss you. I have to get a chain for you, and I'll be damned if I'll let you escape." His hand dug into my flesh, and since he was still holding the cleaver with the other hand, I knew there was no possibility of getting away from him. My head started spinning, and everything became blurry...

I must have passed out, because I awoke chained to a table like the three other poor victims I spied when I first walked in. The butcher, as I had decided to call him, was examining my hands.

"Oh, yeah, these are nice and meaty." He strapped my wrist to the table, and I realized in horror what he was about to do. I began pleading with him, but my words fell on deaf ears. Defeated, I closed my eyes tightly. I screamed when I felt the cold metal of the cleaver against my skin...

"Kathy! What's wrong?!" I open my eyes to see my very concerned husband, Jim, standing over me. Jim! My savior! I suddenly remembered falling asleep on the couch. I was fine, and it was only a dream! Relief flooded over me, and I pulled him down to me in a tight embrace.

"It's nothing. Just a bad dream. You were right...I should have eaten before taking a nap."

"You're ok. And speaking of eating, we're going to barbecue tonight, and Scott, the new guy from work I've been telling you about, has come to join us. He's preparing the steaks."

"Did I hear my name?" My heart sank as I heard the all too familiar voice. I turned slowly, and my eyes didn't get past the apron before I started screaming again.