The encounter

I can feel it...the cold sensation that has graced my body. I can’t believe I did that...I can’t believe I was the one to make the coffin for myself.

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I can’t really feel anything, I guess it would be nice to figure out how I got here? Right...right, okay. Everything was fine, just being in the kitchen I had created as a home for the other versions of my self. no one really had real beef with each other, since we all had a similar thought process. But there were these others that fulfilled a criteria that made them stand out. My head chefs, yeah...I remember them now. 10 of them...I was the like the progenitor, so I’d be zero, not even 1. Speaking of number one, he was the one who had actually control of things, being the one to make the meals, I was just a ghost that brought in more of myself into that kitchen, taught them the basics of how to make this “art” that I valued...can’t remember why though. Ok, now I remember how it all started but how did I end up like this?

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Hc#1: “Do you have any idea how little he actually does for us?” Those were the words of the first Retrotande I made a chef speaking to the other Head chefs. I believe I was eavesdropping on that meeting. Hc#2: “I suppose you are right. Sure, the boss had brought us here in our darkest hours, but he only gave what little hand holding, he only told us how much of monsters we actually are.” Ah...yes, number 2: he was always insightful, though venomous towards me. “The Boss should be expurgated from his role, and in place, someone superior?” Now it makes sense to me, they wanted me gone, they wanted my burden. Hc#3: “I don’t really know, bossman hasn’t really harmed us, let alone wronged us at all, just throwing him away wouldn’t be right at all.” And 3, the most social one I managed to find and mentor into my art. He was always trying to get to know me, yet we are quite literally the same person...even if our stories have different details. My memory seems to fade off from there, but I believe number 1 wanted to not just boot me from the others, but to also slaughter innocents, specifically the patrons who came here. By why? Why? Why? Why? Why did he want that of all things? Then I felt a dreadful pang in my head. “Can’t you see my DEAR COUNTERPART? Your teachings have told me that everything in their own little way is an ‘ingredient’! And those things, the humans, they can culminate into the perfect dish! I just need to harvest that ingredient.” the bastard was so sure of that ideology, so sure of the violence he was to bring. I believe that was what he had said to me on a day the restaurant was closed and the other chefs slept. My mind was tinted by alcohol, so I couldn’t really tell if he was joking or not...but now I see.

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That’s weird...how long have I been able to see out of one eye? It probably doesn’t matter right now...I still gotta remember why. The bastard managed to actually follow through with his plan after I witnessed the first mess: there were corpses piled together in an alleyway near the restaurant, each of them specifically had one eye removed. When I went to confront number 1, he wasn’t even in the restaurant, so I went to some others in hope that they knew something. Those 3 had told me about 1’s whereabouts, a temple or like a estate. Things got blurry from there but, if I’m correct, on my way to 1...number 2 had appeared and impaled me. I can’t really recall how I handled him, I think someone came in to deal with 2.

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Making my way up the steps to the temple, already being wounded from the blade that shish-kebab me. I saw him, number 1, the first retrotande, the one I treated oh so kindly, now he was stained with blood of innocent humans, was surrounded by corpses, and held the look of a psychopath. In his hand was a blade that had lightning arc from it...he must’ve gotten it from robbing this place and killing the owner. What were the words he said? “Prime! Number 0, the chef that wanted to expand his view on reality!” I kinda zoned out before snapping back into whatever his monologue was. “You ‘otta know by now of what I did? Those people were the first! But...I already stand before the obstacles.” He pointed that katana straight at me, the manic smirk turned into a sneer, and only got worse from there. “You must understand, I believe-no, I KNOW I can take the role of leading the restaurant, then killing those livestock to gain my ingredients! You are already in terrible shape, so just quietly move aside and let me take control.” That bastard had me tweaking! To think I would let him just go about cutting down whatever he sees fit? We had to fight, and we did.

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it was fast-paced, and not in my favor...yet how am I still standing here? The katana 1 had wielded managed to conduct thunder within the metal, making dodging not even worth the effort. We danced upon the air, even if 1 had the power, I had the hatred... He managed to slice off my arm and cut my belly open, yet I still fought with the animosity to bully gods. Each swing from his blade was countered by the blood-warped swings of the kitchen knife I had brought with me. Cut after cut, his way of painting would’ve killed a human on the first stroke. Yet we were both different beings. Now I remember what happened to my eye...1 had pierced straight through my head with a lightning bolt he conjured but I kept standing with my blood-harden kitchen blade, slicing him up just as well as he did to me. “DIE OUT YOU FILTHY WRETCH!” He threw an attack at me that I had to dodge...but no, I clashed with him and broke that enchanted katana he held, subsequently allowing me to slam the blood stricken blade across his torso...deeply. It’s not enough that was what I thought straight after...then...then I guess I let my instinct brutalize 1 and...now...

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I remember now...I killed him...I killed, therefore, myself. Do I regret it? I didn’t regret bringing 1 to my restaurant, letting him learn my techniques, my art. I don’t regret at all...after all, he’s me, and I am just a sinner.