Little Nightmares Chef Real Face Novels & Stories

[Chloe] The alarm screamed at 5:30 AM. I slapped it. It fell off the nightstand. It hit the floor. It kept screaming. "Okay," I groaned. "I am up. You win." I sat up. The room was not my room. The walls were cream. The sheets were silk. The bed was big enough for five people. I remembered. The vase. The risotto. The job. I was the personal chef to the Mafia King.

A man dressed as a chef stood there chopping some vegetables while two maids bustled about, probably following his orders. They all looked up at once as I entered the kitchen before bowing hurriedly. "Good evening, Luna," they all greeted me. I nodded at them all with a smile. "Good evening, everyone. I would like to prepare a special dinner for Ch- I mean, your Alpha tonight myself. So I'd like for you to guys to take the night off." The Chef, for some reason, looked appalled. "But...but...Luna, we are here. At your service. You must not exert yourself. We will prepare everything. You only give us orders," he explained in a thick italian accent.

No, seriously, this should be one of those nights I reluctantly joined Leah to see a Saw movie and then had to deal with terrifying dreams. Thinking about Leah brought tears to my eyes. But no, I’d rather die than cry in front of this psychopath. To add fuel into my raging fire, he said, “What would you like for dinner? Pasta? Fajitas? Nachos? Nachos should be fine.” He rose and disappeared into some form of oblivion. I didn’t care. I didn’t look. Then, I heared him call in a maid. He went ahead to request for the nachos.

I agreed easily. I heard him mutter a few choice words under his breath at me, probably still upset, but I just ignored him, shifting into a more comfortable position as I counted to three. I gave a little wave in the direction the camera should be. “Hey guys, I'm Strings. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, one of them being who the hell I am. Before I get into all that, though, I should thank you guys for watching. Now, as for your questions, they are going to be read by our famous guest, the one and only Nightmare Master. Since I'm blind, I need someone like him to read the questions for me don't ask him to come in front of the, camera. He doesn't like to, and it really upsets him when

Blood trickled from my lip again—the scab split open. He crawled up my body like a predator. Weight pinning me down. His knee pressed into my back. “You’re gonna pay for that.” Tears burned my eyes. I bucked, twisted, clawed at the floor. Nails scraping concrete until they bled. “Get off me!” The door was so close. Open. Taunting. Then a shadow filled it. A figure—short, round, white hair catching the light. The old chef from the cafeteria. His face was thunderous, eyes wide with shock that quickly turned to rage.

But reality was a little piece of dump, because as my eyes looked around my room I remembered how much I depended on my paycheck to survive. I got out of bed heading to the bathroom and started getting ready. Walking into the kitchen to grab some breakfast I caught Claire standing over a frying pot with a spatula. "Good morning." she greeted cheefully. I looked at her weirdly without saying anything. "How did you sleep?" she asked me turning back around to tend to what she was making. "Good. You?" I replied still weirded out by her behaviour. "Good. I made pancakes." she exclaimed plating them and passing them to me. She made her way over to the cupboard grabbing the syrup making her way bac

She carries both mugs and pours the forbidden mixture down the sink. “You’ll get it next time.” Miss Masterchef contestant wannabe needs all the encouragement she can get. “Yeah, whatever.” She pushes a forkful of bacon into her mouth. “Hmm. So. Are we finally going to talk about it? These dreams?” Her face contorts as she forces down the large bite. “Because I’m starting to think you’re having better sex in your sleep than most of us do awake.” “They’re just dreams,” I mutter, stabbing a pancake. “Weird ones.”

The last two people who had ever shown concern for me ended up dead. “You are one brave little kitten. Don’t get too worked up by these nightmares,” I found him gently running his hand through my hair. It was time that I pull away from him. I forced my body a little away and he let me go. “I guess I got too scared of the nightmare,” I didn’t even look in his eyes when talking about that nightmare. “I have asked the chef to make us something. What kinds of food do you like?” he asked as he got out of bed.

She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy. "Now let me try to understand it" Avocado. In her dream, she was eager to pluck and eat them. As a matter of fact, she was stealing them. Now that was a little weird because in reality, she never ate them. She hated avocados and even had the one behind her room cut down when she was ten.

I was still shaking uncontrollably, and I didn't know if it's because of the dream or the memory from the night before. Maybe both. As I heard footsteps approaching my door, I opened my eyes and sat up straighter on my bed. I tried to look less scared. The figure of Celeb appeared in front of the room's door frame with a tray full of coffee cups and food. "Hey sweetie," Celeb smiled gently. I just nodded, still unable to move. After several seconds he spoke again. "Do you wanna have dinner together, baby doll?" I forced myself to smile and nodded. I don't want to show him that I start having nightmares again, not to mention this new one.