AI GAMES

9

It was the chef's eyes!

His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me, hissing, "What are you looking at?"

I felt a chill run down my spine. After counting to three to calm myself, I stabbed the chef's right eye with a knife I had grabbed, and amid his screams and the sound of him falling, I dashed out.

Hearing footsteps chasing me, I turned to see the chef, his right eye bleeding profusely, wielding a sharp kitchen knife, coming after me.

His bloodied face was twisted in rage, like a demon from hell.

I raced through the restaurant, pulling tablecloths to scatter objects in his path and hinder him, throwing utensils at him.

Finally, I ran out of the restaurant door, sprinted across the snow, and made it back to the train carriage.

Back in my seat, the disgust lingered. I cursed, "Damn it!"

Emily, noticing my pale face, patted my shoulder and asked, "What did you see? You look awful."

I glanced out the window to see the chef standing less than ten meters away, on the other side of the white line.

He seemed restrained, unable to come closer, pacing restlessly.

I pulled down the carriage curtain and quickly recounted what I had seen, horrifying Amelia. She covered her mouth, exclaiming, "So the guy who snatched my blanket... was dismembered and about to be cooked by the chef? What on earth have we been eating then?"

Emily seemed unsurprised, "I suspected as much. The number of people on the train keeps dwindling, some get off, some die. But the number of people at the stations doesn't seem to increase."

She paused, then added, "I didn't find anything new in the lounge. "

I showed Emily my contraband triumphantly.

She gasped, "Where did you get those?"

"Swiped them at dinner," I whispered. "Finally something useful we can defend ourselves with in this bizarre game."