We were jolted awake by the thunderous pounding on the door, as if Thor himself had decided to come calling. “RISE AND SHINE,” a woman’s voice bellowed from the hallway.

“Wha—” My sentence was cut short when the door violently swung open, revealing an irate Shion standing in the doorway.

“I said, Get. Up,” she commanded, her gaze fixated on me with an intensity that could shatter glass.

“Alright, alright, I get it!” I hastily scrambled out of bed, my lingering drowsiness vanishing into the ether.

“Follow me,” Shion ordered, her voice icy but firm. She promptly exited our room, leaving me in a state of utter bewilderment.

Guiding me out of the guesthouse we had been graciously accommodated in, Shion led me into the biting chill of the night air.

“Miss Shion, if I may inquire, where are we headed?” I cautiously asked, instantly regretting my audacity.

“Haaa? Why do you care, brat?” Her retort dripped with contempt, although she never even turned to acknowledge me.

Seriously, what did I do to annoy her? Sighing inwardly, I quickened my pace to keep up with her hurried strides.

We arrived at a structure that I had never seen before, and she ushered me into a room that was filled with various kitchenware. Wait, kitchenware?

Oh no. “Congratulations, you’re my guinea pig for the morning!” Shion announced, a maniacal grin stretching across her face. “Shuna-sama said I need practice, so you should consider yourself honored to be my taste tester!”

“Oh~ just imagine the look on Rimuru-sama’s face when he takes a bite out of this-” she mused, lost in her bizarre reverie.

Seizing the opportunity, I frantically scanned the room, desperate to identify any means of egress from this impending precarious predicament.

Before I could even formulate an escape plan, her vice-like grip clamped down on my arm. “Sit. I insist,” she said, her eyes piercing through me like laser beams.

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“Yes…” I meekly replied, obediently making my way to one of the vacant chairs, defeated. Women are scary.

Shion brought out various carcasses of different animals, using her humongous Odachi to cut them into small(I lied, they were gigantic) chunks of meat, accidentally squishing some into a meat paste.

Her treatment of the few available vegetables was equally merciless. They were obliterated, squashed into oblivion, and then unceremoniously dumped into a cauldron of boiling, PURPLE water.

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MESS UP BOILING WATER. I screamed internally, I really am going to die today, aren’t I. A single tear trickled down my eye.

“HISSSSSSSS” the abomination in the pot seemed to protest the 50 types of mystery meats that Shion was stuffing down its throat.

Oh my god, did that thing just fucking move. A hand reached out from the mess, attempting to escape. It briefly emerged, wriggling in agony before Shion flicked it back into the depths of the boiling morass.

“Bon appétit,” she said as she set the pot of whatever-that-was in front of me. Her face was filled with a anticipation.

I didn’t dare move an inch, as an heavy silence descended upon the kitchen; broken only by the rhythmic ‘plop’ ‘plop’ ‘plop’ of bubbles that appeared from the eldritch horror.

“Go on, no need to be shy,” She encouraged, looking genuinely excited to see me try her ‘masterpiece’, “You two, come try it too!”

Shiro and Kumo, who had been trying their best to remain silent and unnoticeable, jolted upright at the mention of their names. Their eyes locked onto mine, a silent plea for salvation.

I could only offer them a rueful shake of my head; my predicament was far more dire than theirs.

Raising my hand, I took hold of the metal scoop that lay against the walls of the pot. Peering into the abyss, the sight the awaited me was horrifying.

I reluctantly picked up the metal ladle resting against the pot’s rim and peered into the abyss.

What awaited me was an abomination, a Frankenstein-esque amalgamation of flesh, feathers, and claws.

With a grimace, I plunged the ladle into the stew, cringing at the awful ‘goop’ sounds that accompanied its descent.

With a final flick of my wrist, I raised a ladle full of this unholy concoction towards my face.

My luck had run out; a furry appendage was staring back at me from the scoop, and the goop appeared to be oozing malevolently.

I gulped my saliva, fearing for what was to come.

“Have a taste!” Shion egged me on.

Bringing the ladle near my face, a absolutely PUTRID smell raided my nose. Holding in the urge to make a run for it, I steeled my will.

I shut my eyes, stuffing a scoopful of goop into my mouth in one fluid motion. The awful taste ambushed my taste buds, quickly overwhelming them.

And just like that, a wave of darkness washed over me, my eyes rolled back, foam erupting from my mouth.

I regained consciousness with an agonizing headache, still in that accursed kitchen. Shion was at the other end of the room, engrossed in a conversation.

Two direwolves lay beside me, foaming at the mouth, their limbs twitching spasmodically.

“What the hell just happened? Where am I?” I mumbled, my memory hazy.

Spotting the malevolent pot, my recollection of events returned in a flood, threatening to send me spiraling into unconsciousness again.

Just as I teetered on the edge of blacking out, a gentle voice spoke.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about all this,” Rimuru said, concern etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, your friends will be fine,” he reassured me.

“Uh-huh,” I could only nod weakly, on the verge of hitting the sack.

“Shion, did you break him?” Rimuru questioned, staring incredulously at her.

“I swear I didn’t, I just gave him the chance to experience my cooking,” she replied, her voice tinged with panic.

Rimuru glanced between me, Shion, and the gastronomic monstrosity that lay before us.

He clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and solemnly muttered, “May your souls find peace in the next life.”