Don't You Dare

Papa Jichon's was a rather well-known restaurant, not in terms of reach, but everyone in a not all too small radius knew him, his cooking, and his place. Jichon himself was a rather humble man, short in stature with a mere 4,5 feet in length, he was small, if it had something to do with his age or if he was always just a man of lesser height was unknown. He was always walking upright with his large chef hat measuring a whole foot in height. His face was covered in wrinkles, and his head was devoid of all hair, and although he always narrowed his eyes just to see to the point you could barely see his eyeballs, you could ever see joy twinkle in them.

His restaurant was a family-owned business already eight-generation had taken over it with him being the last one. He had no family in terms of biology, but for him, everyone working and entering was his child, and everyone ever inside had no issue with calling him, papa. His food was the best in the snowy region he cooked with the food he served of incredible quality, one that others could even put well-off people in debt, but he cared not for money, just passion, often also going so far as to donate to the poor and hungry.

This was important as of one dark winter night, where snow was falling in chunks, and the wind blew seemingly through clothes, skin, flesh, and bone, he heard a loud rustling. Raccoons? Rodents? Thieves? It was all possible, but it has been years as even the wildlife knew where they could get a meal for the bare ribs.

"Hello? Is there someone?" Jichon asked wearily, his voice gentle and genuine, calm, and collective. He feared not anything that could lie there, why should he? He may seem like an old man, but he often hunted giant beasts which capture level went well above the sixties, so what could really scare him? This was not one thought of arrogance, but one of understanding where he stood. "Come out, come on, it's cold and I'm sure you'd like a warm meal friend, wouldn't you agree?" He asked warmly

Jichon grabbed one of the trashcans in his path and pushed it out of the way, only to be seen by a most unusual and heartbreaking sight. A little child, covered from head to toe in black fur, matt, and thin while his worm was but skin and bone. The child shivered, but it became clear that it was no human as the hooves and horn and wings indicated, but his behavior was not one of animal nature as did his huffing and moaning proved otherwise.

Papa Jichon reached forward and wanted to pet the child back, but just as he touched it, did the child turn around, the sight broke Jichons heart as he was surprised the younglings had yet not starved to death. The child grabbed something with both of his hands and stabbed it forward, but instead of embedding itself in the man's stomach, it was halted by Jichon's fingertip, not one drop of blood left him.

Jichon smiled warmly, but when he saw what he had stopped, it turned to a deep frown and grabbed the child's hand with painful strength, making him squirm and cry in pain. It was a Cocking knife. "You never, ever use a kitchen knife to kill, you understand!?" Jichon, the calmest man in the world, most benevolent screamed, making the child stop and quiver. "A cocking knife mirrors your soul, and if you stain it with needles murder you rot both it and yourself." His voice slowly became quiet as he released his grip on the child, making him fall into the snow, yet his eyes did not divert from those of the man in front of him. To the boy's surprise, the Jichon eyes teared up slightly.

"Come inside, it's cold... I'm gonna make you something to eat if you'd like." Jichon said as he walked towards the door and opened it, a wave of warmth and smells unknown to the child rushed out. "Come, I'm waiting for you." Jichon urged with a smile

The boy stared at the man for a moment and slowly walked towards the door, each step slowly and quiverful, wary of an ambush, but the man had already shown that he had no intention of doing any harm, if he had, he'd already done so.

Jichon has never seen a child quite like the one he had picked up on that day. He was not unused to seeing strange beings and adopting no less, half of his kitchen staff consisted of children he had raised to adults, but Mathael was an 'exotic' being. He could eat more than ten men and still ask for more, but at the same time worked more than any other chef, excluding himself.'

Mathael was quiet and did not really interact with people outside the kitchen, in other words, the family. It was also clear that he was not lost either, he was intelligent, and that meant someone would search him if they were missing him. He looked through the woods for his parents but found none, and he had to fight off several scientists, a zookeeper, and in rare cases, hunters who disguised themselves as worried pet owners.

After it became clear that Mathael was here to stay, Jichon showed him how to cock, the strength of the child was a battle on its own when he was fed, shattering even titanium knives when he applied too much force. He bought two special knives that were claimed to be unbreakable and then taught cooking to the little newcomer. It was clear from the very first dish that Mathael cooked that he had potential and Food Luck aplenty. It mattered not if he succeeded or not, all that mattered was that it brought him joy.

The years have passed, and Mathael had grown in size, no longer starved and weak, but grown to the size of a healthy 13-year-old, well, a young adult who could beat beasts even he would sometimes have trouble with. Mathael became somewhat of a mascot for the restaurant. His uniqueness had lured in many tourists who wished to pet or even hug him, the ones who did so claim to be blessed with Food Luck. Jichon believed not in that, but it allowed him to expand his restaurant and bring joy to even more people, so he let the hoax be. But what Jichon did believe in was that hugging little Mathael brightened his day, as he believed to have finally found someone he has been looking for a very long time.

It was a dark, lonely night, the moon stood high in the heavens while nearly all light was diminished down on earth, all, but one little flame that burned in Jichon's restaurant. Everyone had already left to their homes, their families, and pets, but two souls who remained.

Mathael was doing the dish, the plates and glasses shot through the soapy water like a blur, were dried by the incredible speed, while Jichon was dashing through the Restuarant his broom. In mere minutes, work that would've taken mortal men hours to complete was done, and the two supernatural beings met in the middle of the serving area.

"Not bad Mathael, but I think I saw that you wasted 0.1 seconds on preparing the water and I was still whole 1.5 seconds faster," Jichon said with a smile, making Mathael pout while crossing his arms. Jichon smiled as he reached forward and ruffled Mathael's hair. "You should not be disappointed for not having surpassed me, but be proud of how far you've come, only few creature has this much skill at your young age." Jichon praised.

"Really?" Mathael asked carefully, his voice quiet, lacking confidence, but that was nothing unusual. Despite his battle power and speed, he was never arrogant even when standing in front of the meekest adult. To this day, Jichon only vaguely knew what Mathael went through, but he pressed no further.

"Yes, in fact, I think you're not only ready but deserving of-did you hear that?" Jichon's smile suddenly vanished as he turned around, his fists clenched as he stared out of the entrance door. Mathael was about to ask before his won ears picked up a voice, it was laughing?

Suddenly, the door exploded inwards, and a large metal rectangle shot through the dust and toward the two of them. Jichon lifted his flat hand and cut through it, and with lightning speed, grabbed the two pieces, stopping them from destroying his kitchen behind him. The old chef looked at what he caught, only to see that it was his own sign advertising his restaurant, he even split his won face on the sign in half.

"Now that's what you call an entrance, wouldn't you agree boys?!" Proclaimed a loud roar as a plethora of snarky voices cheered and laughed at his words. Through the dust walked a large, bronze-colored man standing two and a half meters, covered in muscles while a large blond mullet covered his skull. His clothing choice consisted of black leather with spikes added everywhere, ripped jeans, and a vest leaving his chest bare. The people behind him shared the gangster look.

"I think it's actually called destruction of private property, vandalism and a rotten sense of humor." Jichon said he went into a fighting position, listening to his joins, sinking a bit, and keeping his hands close to his form. Mathael bared his claws as prepared himself to pounce and shred the intruder.

"Ah, good. I was scared that I accidentally broke the main price." He said with a sneer as his eyes went over to Mathael, before turning to Jichon. "How 'bout a deal old grandpa, give that beast and we ain't gonna trash this place too much more."

"Leave. Now." Jichon said as a copper-colored aura surrounded him, burning with power to the point that the pebbles began to shake. This seemed to only scare off some of the hooligans, the weakest ones, while the others seemed to enjoy the adrenalin.

"Sure after you're dead. I'm sure that after you're finished, people will start to respect me, Jungian." Jungian proclaimed as he took one step. He managed not to take a second one, before Jichon suddenly appeared in front of him with lightning speed, and slammed his palm into Jungian's stomach, causing it to deform for just a moment, before flying through the dust and out of the restaurant.

The punks charged, but Jichon knew no mercy at this point and took out one intruder after another with one attack, sending them all into the land of dreams. Those who tried to run were cut off by Mathael who bit each one getting to close, his venomous fangs could not just kill, but also paralyze them for days if he wished to. The punks were not weak humans, but Jichon and Mathael were so fast that it appeared like that they'd evade attacks that weren't even thought of yet.

"I ain't done yet." Proclaimed a deep and angry voice as the hulking mass of Jungian entered the restaurant yet again. His vest was shredded in the process but bore no wound other than a significant red mark where his belly button should've been.

Jichon glared at the one who'd not listen, slapped one last punk into the land of dreams, before rushing forth towards Jungian and punched him in the middle of his chest, but instead of hearing a crunch, all he heard was a wobbling.

"Sorry old-timer, but I ain't some normal human!" Jungian shouted, before reading back his fist which suddenly took on a grey tone, before punching Jichon in his stomach, the force dared to impale Jichion, but he was lucky enough for the energy to push him back. Jichon's limbs flayed mindlessly before he slammed into one part of his restaurant sign, bending it beyond hope of restoration while blood leaked from his nose and mouth.

"No!" Mathael screamed as he turned back to Jungian, who casually marched towards him, to which he shakingly walked backward.

"Your own fault the old man died, should've just come with ol' little me from the start, but no, always so stubborn." Jungian taunted while tsking with his head shaking.

Mtahel bared his teeth, growling, before grabbing his kitchen knife and pointing it at Jungian. "Go away! Leave! Get Lost! Let us alone!" Mathael demanded, screamed, and to some extent, begged, but the invader kept his swift pace, not even thinking to slow down. Once a mere ten feet were in between them, Mathael closed his eyes and slashed his knife at him, losing balance and twirled while falling.

"Urgh!..." He heard a voice exclaimed feebly before an opera of thuds echoed through the cold restaurant. Mathael slowly pushed himself upwards, only to find Jungian in two-pieces, just like his friends, scattered on the floor with clean cuts going through their spine. Coughing from behind stole away Mathael's attention.

"Papa, I did it, I wo-" Mathael's sentence stuck in his throat as he saw Jichon clench his chest, a large, deep gash running from left to right. He grits his teeth, letting out a few cries of pain. "Papa, I didn't mean to, I swear, I just-!" He was cut off yet again when Jichon grabbed Mathael and pulled him into a deep hug.

"I know why you did it, and I am proud of you for going this far, but please..." Jichon caught a blob of blood. "Don't forget what I taught you." Jichon's head leaned back as he let out one more sigh, but he still smiled even now.

Mathael's whole being stood there paralyzed while his eye slowly turned to one of his knives, now the pristine material was stained with a deep, purple, briney substance that branded the world forever and him in its reflection. Mathael only saw a dark figure with gleaming purple eyes staring back. A Monster.

Mathael shock the old man in hopes of waking him, begging, screaming, crying, but it was too late, all he could do was hug the body that was slowly being claimed by cold, warming it with his tears. This winter night became the darkest the village had ever know.