The suit I acquired from the skeleton nicely fit my own body so much that it was depressing. Was I really such a twig that a suit for skeletons fits me?

  I stuffed the bones of the skeleton in the cabinets of a corner. He fought well in his last moments but his purpose was to serve demons, not fight. He was quickly felled by my dagger and gave me negligenible experience. Guilt did tug on me somewhat to defeat an non-combatant but that was the cost for myself to live on hopefully.

  It seemed I came in at a rare, quiet time for the kitchen as undead servants soon after started arriving in greater and greater numbers. The whole kitchen was filled with sounds of chopping, grilling, boiling, and frying. Standing there, a zombie hit me on my back and furiously groaned at me. It pointed to a nearby corpse of… a sand worm. Fuck. I am going to have to butcher THAT THING? THAT HORROR? I agonized over this task ordered of me yet the zombie bastard did not care as he pushed me over.

  It must have been an hour by now as a entity of the living variety came in. A man with rose tinted glasses entered. He was as pale as a ghost which contrasted with his dark hair and suit. His haunting grin revealed long fangs. However, most important part of him was that he had very same legs I saw before.

  Now I had to play the part if I wanted to or not. I had to slice up this worm. Trembling, I picked up a butcher knife and only got as far as making a slicing a few centimeters deep before my disgust over the blood spilling from the wound. I never... actually butchered anything before. Meat was always already butchered for me in my old world and the church provides rations, one of the few graces they give us. This is revolting to do. And more importantly, I do not know what to do right now. Fuck, I wish I watched more survival shows in my past life.

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  Regaining composure, I sloppily make cuts into corpse. The servants around are all giving me the stink eye. Being judged by these undead is humiliating. The man seemed to not care and looked around in the cabinets. The same pressure that I was under in the cart returned.

  Some of the undead got so fed up with my lack of skills that they started giving me pointers by gesturing and displays on the corpse I am in front of. I wanted to say, “Thanks, but please fuck off,” but I had to seal my mouth. I did not want any attention towards me right now.

  The man keep leisurely checking the cabinets one by one, coming ever closer to the one I hid the dead skeleton butler in. I had to reach there before him. So focusing in my mind that blood was spilling all over the cutting plate and dripping down the floor, setting off the nearby undead in anger. Now I got to clean this up.

  The stress piling up on me, my mind became more and more frantic. What do I do? What do I do! I need a rag! Where are the rags! I need a rag before I can go… to the… cabinets.

  I have an alibi to go over there! I rushed over to the cabinets in the corner and made a show out of opening the cabinets in view of the man. Finally I came to the cabinet that I stashed the body in. Opening the cabinet door just enough to access it but keep the contents out of view, I shrugged and closed it. My acting was honestly terrible but the fact that I was disguised as a undead covered for my awkward actions. The man, seemingly buying it, simply skipped over the cabinets I

checked seeing that there was nothing in them going by my reaction.

  I eventually found a rag in a draw right by where I was, which did not do me any favors with my relationship with my seniors. I ended up getting a level in butchering under their guidance which was a plus. Finally, it seemed that the frenzy was over. Looks like meal time ended.

  I celebrated my freedom from the kitchen and sand worm. However, I knew that this was not the end of it. I had to find the exit.