Chapter 13: The Meat That Served Itself Up?

Ugh…

Her body was hot. Milly instinctively unbuttoned her nightgown, letting the cool air brush against her chest, but the heat lingered.

She tried to get up to find something to drink, to cool her internal temperature, but the day’s torments finally caught up with her. A heavy wave of exhaustion crashed over her, pulling her consciousness under.

She tugged the nightgown down a little further. The direct contact with the cool air seemed to help. Or maybe it was just the heavy fatigue wrapping itself around her, dragging her into a dream…

At midnight, a thick darkness seeped into the chamber, carrying a sweet, metallic, slightly burnt scent. Noticing the pale, bare form on the bed, the source of the scent slowly crept onto the mattress.

Milly drifted in a chaotic dreamscape. A slick, slimy sensation on her skin made her instinctively curl up, her calf muscles tightening like a fully drawn bowstring. But the thing, like the tentacle of a deep-sea octopus, accurately wrapped around her naked ankle.

“Don’t…” A broken whisper escaped her lips. The thing on her ankle began to climb, slithering over her waist, sending a cold shiver through her. She tried to roll away, toward the corner of the bed, but bumped into a soft, yielding presence that smelled of laurel and cold moonlight. Half-awake, she thought she heard the shattering of a crystal wind chime and the soft rustle of cold hair brushing against her ear.

Someone was here. In her dream, Milly tried to force her eyes open, to return to reality, but her eyelids were heavy, as if welded shut. She couldn’t wake up. She couldn’t escape. Instead, twisted tentacles reached out from the abyss of her dream, pulling her deeper into the nightmare.

She had no memory of what happened after that. Her body was numb. She only knew that someone had entered the room after she fell asleep.

The first ray of dawn pierced the stained-glass window, and Milly awoke to an aching, sore body. She had slept deeply, but not well. Her body felt strangely heavy.

As she tried to sit up, she discovered the reason. Stacy was lying on top of her, her limbs locked tightly around Milly’s body like an octopus.

‘She loves playing with tentacles so much, maybe she is an octopus.’

Her sleeping posture was atrocious, but as Milly’s gaze fell on Stacy’s face, she saw a serene beauty, as pure as freshly fallen snow. It was hard to believe that behind such a face was a complete pervert.

Carefully, she tried to pull her numb arm from Stacy’s embrace, but the sleeping woman held on tight. Every inch of freedom was a struggle.

Finally, she managed to break free. She sat on the edge of the bed, panting. That was exhausting.

Stacy was a really heavy sleeper. Even though Milly had been careful, Stacy’s grip had been so tight that some contact had been unavoidable. And still, she hadn’t woken up.

‘Since she’s sleeping so soundly, maybe I should give her a little shock. If she wakes up, I can just say it was an accident.’ The thought was tempting, but the memory of the consequences made her shake her head.

Don’t court death, and you won’t die.

She got off the bed, ready to leave the room, but a sudden chill made her look down. Her face instantly flushed crimson.

The buttons on her nightgown were undone. Sometime during the night, it had been pulled down, leaving her entire upper body exposed.

Hey, hey, what the hell happened?

She had no memory after closing her eyes, and there was no one else on the bed. Either Stacy had undressed her, or she had done it herself. Could it be that when she felt hot last night, she had subconsciously tried to take off her nightgown? And then Stacy had climbed into bed…

In Stacy’s eyes, wouldn’t it look like Milly had willingly undressed and waited for her? The meat that served itself up?

She ran to the floor-length mirror. Good, no marks on her body. Aside from the soreness from being held so tightly, there were no other symptoms. Phew… a sigh of relief. Stacy probably hadn’t done anything to her.

She re-buttoned her nightgown and, following her memory, found the bathroom. She had been in this world for two days, but her body was surprisingly clean. A sniff revealed only a faint, fresh scent. So this was what a girl’s body was like.

But the strange taste in her mouth still hadn’t faded. After rinsing her mouth several more times, she finally left the sink.

Her stomach growled again. She had thrown up everything she had eaten yesterday. She had been starving for almost two days.

“Grr…”

I’m starving…

She couldn’t count on Stacy. But Stacy hadn’t forbidden her from going to the kitchen. Better to cook for herself than to trust Stacy to produce something edible.

Her own cooking skills weren’t great, but at least what she made was edible.

She slipped into Stacy’s kitchen. Despite her terrible cooking, the kitchen was exquisitely furnished. Strangely, the layout was similar to a modern kitchen, with all the necessary components, just replaced with their otherworldly equivalents.

Milly’s fingers traced the cool marble countertop. Where a gas stove should have been, three red crystals were embedded. A floating iron pot still contained the charred remains of yesterday’s… something, emitting a foul, burnt smell.

Beside the stove lay a thick book, with many sticky notes tucked between its pages—Stacy’s bookmarks. Although she couldn’t read the words, the pictures told her it was a cookbook. The pictures looked perfectly normal. How had Stacy managed to create those abominations?

Milly’s fingertips brushed over the twisted characters on the notes. She paused at the last bookmark. The word “Failure,” written in blood-red ink, had almost torn through the parchment. She flipped back. Every other note also bore the same word.

How bad of a cook do you have to be to write “Failure” with such despair?

She closed the cookbook. “Clang!”

As she turned, her shin hit a cabinet. She yelped in pain and grabbed her leg, but lost her balance and stumbled backward into something else. The quiet kitchen was suddenly filled with a cacophony of crashes.

A cold sweat trickled down her spine. Milly held her breath for ten seconds, listening for any sound from the bedroom.

Phew… it seems I didn’t wake the pervert.

But that was probably only temporary. The noise had been too loud. Even if Stacy slept like a log, she should have been woken up. She had to find something edible, quickly.

After a thorough search, her eyes finally landed on the “refrigerator” in the corner. It was, quite literally, a refrigerator made of ice.

A cube carved from a single block of ice was covered in frost. Through the icy mist, she could see dark red chunks of meat inside.

She had no idea how it stayed frozen. Tentatively, she pulled on the handle. Her fingertips immediately stuck to the ice crystals. With a soft “click,” a blast of frigid air and ice shards hit her in the face, instantly frosting her eyelashes.

But the physical cold was nothing compared to the chill in her heart. When she saw the ingredients stored inside, the last shred of hope died.