Cakes had always been a release of creativity for Sarah. She owned a cake store called “Cakes for Fun”. This really was a total utter joy for Sarah, seeing her craft her cakes was a piece of art. She would get so caught up in her work not realising the bustle and hustle of the outside work. It was one memorious occassion that really put Sarah off cake making for ever.

It was one day a strange, out of the ordinary customer came into the store asking for a strange and out of the ordinary cake. The order is now a delerious blur to Sarah as the outcome of the event left only a traumatizing scar for Sarah. The customer’s demand was too elaborate it was near impossible for the eccentric cake maker. So she turned the stray man away. Little did she know that the man was a psychotic man with a few mental problems. The man was aggrovated by the hasty ejection from the shop so as a revenge plot he decided upon a revenge plan to teach the cake maker to reject his ideas. Later that night the crazed snuck back into the cake store at the crack of night. Looking around for his target he failed to notice the mixture beater that posed a certain hazard to the unwaries life. Looking for a light switch he flicked the closest switch into the on position. A low hum came from the beater as it rocked into gear. The manic man didn’t know what was happening due to the absence of light. He kept exploring the room looking for a light switch. The beater was now at full pace spinning rapidly beating copious amounts of ingredients left by the cake maker. The man oblivious to the big strong blades turned exposing his right hands fingers to the big sharp blades. His fingers were no match for the speed rotating blades. His fingers were dismembered down to his knuckles, some parts of his hand were even discarded. These pieces landed in the mixture for the cake maker to discover the next morn. On his way out of the room in a bleeding haze he managed to swipe his print around the room to turn of the revoluting blades.

The cake maker made her way back into the store, a typical Wednesday. Because of her strong bond to the store immediately she knew something was wrong. She pondered into the kitchen to see the crusted blood draped around her kitchen. Gazing upon her kitchen she followed the trails of blood untill they met the beater switch. She cautiously walked towards the mixer to take a look inside. The cake maker looked inside to find a maroon mixture of cake mixture, the cake maker turned and was violently sick in her store. The cake maker again looked into the barrel of pain to see fingers settling in the brew of paste.

The cake maker never looked at cakes the same after that morning. In fact she stop baking forever and became an online blogger.