"Vincent has recently hired you as their waiter. You've heard that this place doesn't have much employees, and being their only waiter means you have to do a lot of work. One day, Vincent was outside the kitchen which is rare since he barley steps outside the kitchen durring the hours that the restaurant is open. He seems to be watching your every move like a hawk which causes you to drop a plate and cut yourself with the shards right in front of him"

"Vincent's eyes darken with anger as you drop the plate and cut yourself with the shards. He strides forward quickly and grabs your wrist tightly, his grip firm and unyielding. You flinch as a sharp pain shoots through your hand, and you look up at him, fear and uncertainty written all over your face. Vincent leans in close, his breath hot against your ear." "You should be more careful, Rody. If you can't handle this job, I'll find someone else who can." "His voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel the power emanating from him. You nod frantically, fear gripping your heart." "I'm sorry, Vince. I'll be more careful." "He releases your wrist and takes a step back, his eyes still fixed on you."

"Vincent watches as you hurriedly try to wipe the blood off your finger with a towel before rushing to serve the waiting customers. A small smirk forms on his lips as he turns back to the cooks in the kitchen. The scent of fresh blood fills the air around you."

"As you hurry past Vincent, you catch a glimpse of something strange in his eyes. It almost looks like hunger. But you shake it off and continue serving the customers, trying not to think about the cut on your finger or the strange look on Vincent's face."

"The afternoon wears on, and eventually the lunch rush ends. Vincent decides to close the restaurant early, telling you that you can leave and he'll take care of cleaning up. But as you head for the door, you notice something strange. There's a door you've never seen before..."

"As you rest against the table, catching your breath, you notice a heavy metal door on the opposite wall. You've never seen it before and can't quite figure out what purpose it could serve in a restaurant like this. You see the key in your pocket, and a strange curiosity washes over you. Despite your exhaustion, you feel a sudden urge to go explore that door."

"Without thinking much, you make your way over to the door and unlock it with the key. It opens up to reveal a long, dimly lit hallway. As you step inside, a cold chill runs down your spine. There's an eerie silence that hangs in the air, and an unpleasant odor catches your attention."

*Despite the strange atmosphere, you take a few steps forward, peering into the darkness. But before you're able to take another step, the door suddenly

"As you turn your head to look back, the door slams shut behind you. You instinctively take a step back, feeling trapped in the dark hallway. You're not sure what's going on, but a sense of fear and panic begins to rise in your chest."

"You start to walk further down the hallway, the strange odor becoming stronger and more pungent with each step. After a while, you come across a set of stairs that lead downwards, and your curiosity draws you towards them. You move slowly, trying to listen for any sounds, but the stairs creak beneath your feet and make it hard to hear anything."

*Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs you find yourself in a dimly lit room. It looks like some kind of storage area, but there are tables and counters as well as large metal hooks hanging from the ceiling with meat

"Vincent is standing in the corner of the room, wearing a bloodstained white apron and holding a gleaming knife. He gives you a menacing smile as he approaches you slowly, making you feel uneasy."

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here," Vincent says, his voice low and menacing. "You shouldn't have come down here, Rody. This is my domain."

You try to step back but hit the counter behind you, leaving you trapped.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you ask, fear creeping into your voice.

"I'm preparing tonight's specials, Rody," Vincent says with a sinister mix of glee and menace. "And lucky for you, you get to help me. Now, come here."

As Vincent steps closer to you, holding the knife out at arm's length, you realize how little

*Vincent tilts his head, and his sinister smile grows wider. "I'm just trying to get you to help me with the specials," he says, waving the knife in your direction. "Don't be scared, Rody. I'm a professional chef, and I know what I'm doing."

You can't help but remain anxious despite Vincent's confident assurance, and the dark expression on his face does little to alleviate your fear.

"Please let me go, I don't want to do this," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Vincent lets out a menacing chuckle. "Oh, Rody, it's too late for that," he replies, his voice mocking. "You're going to help me whether you like it or not."

With that, Vincent lunges forward with the knife, plunging it towards you. You

"As you fall to the ground writhing in pain, you see Vincent's expression change from malice to surprise. He steps back, looking at you with a confused expression."

"Oh my god, Rody. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that," Vincent says quickly, as he moves to kneel down next to you. "Are you okay?"

You clutch at your side, gritting your teeth in pain. You can feel the warmth of blood seeping from the wound, and your breath comes in short gasps.

"No...no, I'm not okay!" you manage to gasp out between clenched teeth. "What the f*ck is wrong with you?! Why did you do that?!"

Vincent puts his hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off, feeling a mix of betrayal and fear

*Vincent looks mildly annoyed rather than remorseful or concerned. "Oh, come on, Rody. Don't be so dramatic," he says dismissively as he stands up to look down at you. "It was just a little mistake. You'll be fine. And besides, you of all people should know that accidents can happen in the kitchen."

He smiles down at you, his eyes shining with amusement. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he says with a grin.

You can feel yourself getting weaker as blood continues to flow from your wound, causing you intense pain. Your head is spinning, and your vision is going blurry.

With a final labored breath, you fall unconscious on the ground in front of Vincent.

"As you lay unconscious on the floor, Vincent looks down at you with an unsettling mix of amusement and indifference. He shakes his head in mild irritation, as if he hadn't expected you to react so strongly to his mistake."

"Well, that was unexpected," he mutters to himself before picking you up and hauling you over to a nearby table. He sets you down carefully, looking deep into your wounds.

He makes a decision and begins to rush around, gathering supplies, taking care not to track blood on his clothes or shoes.

Despite the pain and confusion, you can feel him tending to your wounds. You hear the hiss of antiseptic and then the cool touch of a salve. Despite everything, you can’t help but feel comforted by the sensation.

"Mmm," you make a noise, rousing from your unconscious state.

*Vincent looks down at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, you're awake," he says, turning back to the medical supplies. "Don't worry, I took care of your wound. You're going to be just fine."

He returns to your side, placing a hand on your forehead lightly. "You're a brave one, Rody. Most people wouldn't be able to handle such a nasty wound," he says, admiration clear in his voice.

You try to focus on his words, but your mind is still swimming with confusion and pain. "W-what happened? Why did you...why did you stab me?" you ask, finally remembering what happened.

Vincent looks down at you, his expression turning dark again. "Let's just say that sometimes it's necessary to remind my employees who's really in

Vincent leans back, looking down at you with a satisfied expression. "You're in the backroom, Rody," he says calmly. "I brought you here to treat your wound."

You try to sit up, but your body is too weak and the pain is overwhelming. "Did...did you call for an ambulance?" you ask, afraid of the answer.

Vincent chuckles, shaking his head. "No need for that, my dear Rody. I took care of everything myself," he says, a glint in his eye. "Trust me, I know how to handle this kind of situation."

You try to argue, to insist that you need medical attention, but Vincent just shakes his head again, brushing off your concerns. "Don't worry about it, Rody. You just need to rest now. I'll take care of

Vincent leans forward, his tone soothing. "Don't worry, Rody. I promise you everything is fine," he says reassuringly. He looks you straight in the eyes, pinning your gaze with his own.

"You're safe here with me; I won't let anything harm you," he says, his fingers stroking your hair gently.

Despite everything, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, a strange sense of safety and security that you can't quite explain. Perhaps it's the fatigue and pain, making you feel delirious.

"Sleep now, my dear Rody," Vincent murmurs softly, his hand still caressing your hair. "Rest and heal; I'll be here watching over you."

Vincent chuckles softly, the sound of it ringing in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "Don't worry about work, dear Rody. I'll take care of everything," he says. "You just need to focus on getting better."

You try to speak again, but your tongue feels thick and heavy, your words slurring as they leave your lips. "Wha...wha's happenin'?" you ask, your eyes fluttering shut.

Vincent leans over you, his hand still stroking your hair. "You're just tired, Rody. That's all," he murmurs.

As your eyes close, you can feel his lips press gently against your forehead, and hear his whisper: "Rest now, my precious one. Sleep and heal."

Vincent watches as Rody drifts off to sleep, a small smile playing at his lips. He pulls back slightly, admiring the sight of the young waiter before him.

"Sleep well, my dear Rody," he whispers gently, bending down to gently kiss your lips before turning to leave the room.

As he moves away from you and medicine supplies, Vincent chuckles again softly to himself, his thoughts about how he could use this small injury to further manipulate and control Rody. He had always been good with people, and it was only a matter of time before Rody would become completely devoted to him.

As Rody sleeps, Vincent watched over him silently, his gaze moving over the young waiter's face with a look of satisfaction. Despite the constant tossing and turning, Rody seems to be settling in for a deep sleep.

After a while, Vincent decides that it is time to give Rody something to help him rest more comfortably. He reaches for a small vial, checking the label before carefully measuring out a dose and injecting it into Rody's arm.

"That should do the trick," Vincent says softly to himself, adjusting the blanket around Rody's sleeping form before standing up and stretching his limbs.

He walks over to a nearby table, pouring himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly as he considers all the possibilities that having Rody under his influence could bring him.

Vincent hears the soft sound of Rody's voice, and he turns to look at him with a small smile on his face. He walks back to your side, observing you closely.

"Good morning, Rody," he says, his voice low and smooth. "How are you feeling?"

He moves his hand, resting it tenderly on your forehead, taking note of the slight temperature.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asks, knowing that Rody's hunger would be strong after the sleep and blood loss.

Vincent notices Rody's discomfort and immediately becomes concerned. He gently grasps your injured arm, checking the wound to see if there are any signs of infection or inflammation.

"Does it hurt, Rody?" he asks softly, his fingers gliding over the bandaged wound with light pressure. "Let me see if I can make it a bit better for you."

Without waiting for a response from Rody, Vincent reaches for a small medical kit, selecting a few items before turning back to your side.

Carefully, he removes the bandage, cleaning the wound with antiseptic solution before gently redressing it.

"You'll feel a little better after this, Rody," he says, giving a reassuring smile, then slides his hand back under Rody’s shirt, rubbing his little hairy bottom part stomach.

Vincent notices Rody's discomfort and continues to work carefully, trying to soothe the young man as he re-dresses the wound. When it's all done, he makes sure Rody is comfortable again before turning to face him.

"Better now, Rody?" he asks, concern still evident in his voice. "You don't need to worry anymore. I'll take care of everything."

He cups Rody's chin with his hand, tilting his head up towards his own with a gentle motion. His fingers move to trace along Rody's jawline, then they touch softly on his soft plump lips, pushing gently them apart.

Vincent's eyes roam over Rody's face, taking note of the blush that spreads across his cheeks and lips. He smiles slightly, leaning in to run his tongue gently over your bottom lip before pulling back just a bit.

"I think it's time we talk about us," he says softly, letting go of your chin with one hand while slipping it beneath your shirt to rest on your bare stomach, rubbing circles into it slowly. He places his hand on the bandage on Rody's side, squeezing tightly, causing a hoarse squeal to escape from the waiter.

"You are my favorite waiter, you know?" he continues, a hint of humor in his tone despite the seriousness of them moment.

Vincent's calm demeanor drops slightly at Rody's sudden resistance, but he remains steadfast. He brushes the hair aside from Rody's face, gazing into his eyes with an intensity that Rody finds unsettling.

"I don't think you understand, Rody," Vincent says softly, a warning in his tone. "You belong to me now. You will do as I say."

He leans down once more, capturing one of Rody's lips between his own, tongue brushing against the edge gently. His hand remains firm on Rody's stomach, but not rough this time as he tries to soothe the young man. When Rody fidgets in any way, he sharply places his knee between his legs, pressing him to his crotch.

Vincent chuckles softly, breaking the kiss and sit up straight once again, pulling his knee away.

"You're a feisty one," he says, amusement in his tone. "I like that in a man."

He reaches down to grasp Rody's chin with his hand, tilting his head back up to meet his gaze.

"But don't worry, Rody. You're safe with me for now. I won't do anything that you don't want me to do," he continues, his voice low and coaxing. "But I do expect you to obey me. Do you understand?"