*VICKY*Earlier that day…I looked down at the pile of scraps in front of me and pictured the dish forming right in front of me. I reached and opened my pristine tool bag. Before I knew it, I was skillfully slicing whipped cream, trimming the cake base, and baking it. It was almost like I was on autopilot. Finally, I added a cherry to top it all off.The experience was perfect—all that I had ever imagined it would be.The sous chef—Frank, as I came to find out—watched me operate closely. His eyes were fixed on my hands as I curated the desert. I smiled as he inspected the dish from side to side, confident that no matter what I made him, it'd be sure to wow.Suddenly, a sweet, salty smell pressed into my nostrils.This was definitely not the smell of apple tart. Its fragrance was similar to that of roses, but when I smelled it carefully, it also smelt a little like steak that had just been cooked. It was so delectable, and its scent tasted like blood but that much sweeter.Then it click
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