CHAPTER 8 – Feast in the Night

Not giving himself a chance to second-guess, Peter reached out and snatched the amulet from the pile. A moment later he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“See? We good. Stop being a sissy and get to it.” He chided himself, striding towards the door on the right. “Oh, and we really need to stop this talking to ourselves business. We talked about it; can’t be healthy.” A wry smile tugged at Peter's lips as he approached the door.

Quickly sobering up, he lifted the amulet to the groove, mace raised and at the ready.

The shine dissipated and was followed by two clicks of locks being disengaged. Then came a… hiss of pressure release? Peter frowned, shifting to stand beside the door where the hinges were concealed within the frame.

Muscles tense, he pushed the door open. Two things caught him by surprise. Firstly, the door swung open smoothly and soundlessly, as if on well-oiled hinges, revealing the chamber beyond. Secondly, the most delicious scent wafted from within, nearly making him lose control of his reason. But even as he began salivating he held himself in check. [Oh my God, what is that smell?] His stomach roared its dissatisfaction at Peter’s inaction and he had to fight the urge to rush in.

The room beyond seemed still and quiet. From where he stood, he saw a… kitchen counter? And a set of kitchen knives lining the wall? Peter couldn’t help but frown at that point; that was not what he expected to see.

No longer concerned with caution, Peter dropped his guard and entered the ‘kitchen’. There! Straight away, his eyes locked onto the source of the tantalizing smell. Hanging from the ceiling on a meat hook at the far end was a leg complete with cloven hoof and thigh. Peter gulped as he walked towards it.

He was almost upon the leg when he managed to shake himself out of his trance and took a step back.

~GROWL!~ Peter's stomach voiced its disagreement and sent a jolt of pain that doubled him over for a moment.

“Geez, get a hold of yourself, man! It’s not the first time you’ve gone hungry.”

Looking back up at the leg, his eyes narrowed. “How is it still fresh?”

Peter let go of yet another unexplainable phenomenon. As his eyes shifted, he saw a hose reel connected to a tap on the wall.

Desperation surged within him and he rushed to it. With trembling hands, he turned the tap, his heart pounding with anticipation as he focused on the end of the hose. The sound of flowing water and the movement of the hose brought a rush of relief.

Before long, the most beautiful sight manifested before him as clear, clean water spouted out of the hose. Peter's excitement peaked as he took in the pure scent emanating from it. He brought the hose to his mouth and took a gulp, savoring the sweetness of the water.

He drank deeply, feeling the soothing sensation as the water quenched his parched throat. Only when he felt himself on the verge of nausea did he stop. But it was too late, he had taken in too much, too quickly, and before he could react, his stomach rebelled, causing him to retch the water back up.

Regaining control, Peter took more measured sips, allowing his body to adjust to the intake. With a determined mindset, he decided to explore the kitchen before indulging in more water later.

It was larger than the first thought. A partition wall running down the center of the room hid its true size. Only a gap halfway down the wall revealed there was more to it. Though there was no door, there was still a translucent glow blocking this gap and, through it, he could see the other side was a storage area.

“Where’s the stove?” Peter’s attention was back on the kitchen side and he found there was nowhere to cook. If not for all the crockery, he would’ve thought this was actually a butcher shop. A very clean and out of stock butcher shop.

“Hygiene conscious vampires, who’d’ve thunk!”

Stone cabinets filled with empty crockery of all shapes and sizes ran along the left side of the kitchen, ending where the meat hook area began.

Within the meat hook area, a simple marble counter and the tap with a hose were the only fixtures besides the hunk of flesh hanging from the hook.

The mostly plain floor had a drain in the center, right below the hooked leg, surrounded by more of the strange symbols he didn’t recognise.

Along the length of the first half of the partition wall were more stone cabinets, though these were split between base units and wall units, all filled with more empty stone crockery. Atop the base units lay a long marble countertop, interrupted only by a sink.

“These guys really love their stone. Very detailed though.”

His grayscale vision made it all look bleak, yet the myriad shades he noted suggested it wasn’t so bad. If only he could figure out which shade corresponded to which color…

Next he walked to the glimmering barrier and held the amulet to the groove on the wall next to it. The barrier winked out with a light woosh of air.

More empty crockery. The right side had shelving – stone of course – lining the walls from top to bottom set at different heights to allow for the different box and crockery sizes filling them.

The left side was split into four levels, the first three filled with huge stone jars. The fourth level at the top was empty.

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What Peter found odd was that there were one jar glowing on the left side and two boxes glowing on the right. His eyes narrowed as he pulled one of the non-glowing jars to confirm his suspicion. Empty. He checked a couple more before checking some of the boxes on the right side. All empty.

He picked up the smaller of the two glowing boxes. There was no groove for the amulet, but there was a knob at the front. After fiddling with it for a bit, Peter twisted it and the glow disappeared. His sight nearly went dark and another hunger pang hit him when he lifted the lid. An aroma even more heavenly than when he first entered the kitchen got him drooling as he looked at the two fist sized hearts.

Mesmerized, he walked into the kitchen and set the box on the counter. His hand trembled as he reached for a heart, bringing it to his mouth.

“The fuck are you doing?” Peter scolded himself, stopping just before taking a bite. With a shaky breath, he dropped the heart back in the box and closed the lid, feeling a wave of unease wash over him. Sliding down the wall, he sank to the floor, his mind swirling with confusion and horror.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Peter whispered. “This isn’t normal! Are those human hearts? That guy was a vampire. But the leg isn’t human.” Peter's breathing sped up, but there didn’t seem to be enough air as the room started spinning and the edges of his vision grew dark.

[Calm yourself down. What’s wrong with you? Panicking at every little thing. This is your reality now. Yes, that was a vampire! Were those hearts human? Maybe. But that leg isn’t. Eat that. No fire? Eat it raw. You’ve done it before. You’re letting all this supernatural get to your head. The supernatural is now natural. Accept it and move on.]

After taking a few more moments, Peter got up and twisted the knob on the box with the hearts, causing the shield to light back up, and put it back in the storage room. Then he grabbed a kitchen knife and went to work on the leg. He sliced a strip of flesh and put it in his mouth.

“Mhmm.” Peter couldn’t contain the moan as an explosion of flavor assaulted his taste buds. He barely even chewed as he wolfed down the meat before cutting another, much bigger chunk. The meat was so tender his teeth easily ripped into it.

Peter lost himself to the feeding frenzy, savoring the metallic tang as blood soaked his messy beard. He cut chunk after chunk stopping only when he couldn’t take in another morsel and could feel himself getting drowsy.

Peter knew he couldn’t just fall into a food coma like that. Fighting it off as best he could, he exited the kitchen – stopping only to wash the blood off himself at the sink and sip some more water.

After a quick inspection, he found the groove for the amulet next to the secret entrance to the chamber and laid the amulet against it. The grinding of stone signaled his success.

Next, he moved to the sarcophagus and pushed his loot off of it and on to the ground before rolling into it. Peter didn’t have the brain capacity to entertain the morbidity of his actions; he was exhausted and all he wanted was something better than a cold, hard floor.

He was out the moment his head hit the pillow.

*******************************

~HOWL~

[Not again!] Peter jerked awake, his heart pounding in his chest as he sensed he had returned to the dream world. However, a feeling of relief settled over him as soon as he sat up and took in the disheveled mess that was his room.

With a weary sigh, Peter allowed himself to slump back onto the bed, sinking into the familiar softness of his mattress. He was home. Although it was the dream world, it was home nonetheless.

~HOWL~

Peter ignored the howling. He knew in his heart that he was safe so long as he was inside. He didn’t know how he knew; he just did.

He lay there with his eyes shut, trying his best to ignore the stench of wet dog – definitely not Zeus’ – that permeated his bedroom along with the fact that his bedding was soaked. That damn wolf had been in here. What Peter couldn’t fathom was how that was possible. There was too much he didn’t understand.

Not able to take the smell anymore, he stood up and ripped the covers off of his bed and threw them out of his bedroom door and into the kitchen. Then he flipped his mattress over before walking towards the in-wall closet in the far corner and grabbing a new set of bedding.

Starting with the fitted sheet, Peter shook it over the bed a couple of times before letting it drop into place. Then, moving around the bed, he lifted the mattress and tucked the sheet in tightly, smoothing out any wrinkles. He took satisfaction in the tranquility of the methodical process.

Next he worked on the top-sheet. He tucked in the bottom of the sheet under the mattress first. Then made the diagonal folds and tucked them in next, along with sides of the sheet. He followed the same process with the blanket and finished with a crisp bed fold. Finally, he changed the pillow cases and layed the pillow over the folds.

He straightened back up and studied his handy-work, feeling a sense of peace spread through him. Feeling like he’d finally accomplished something.

Riding his high of accomplishment, he moved to the kitchen to put the bedding in the wash, but as he entered the kitchen, confusion stopped him in his tracks.

“Nah, can’t be, right?” There, on the floor, was the gear he’d lost in the last respawn. “Geez, I’m even dreaming about them, how desperate am I?”

~HOWL~

[That’s a lot closer, now.] Peter looked up and approached the kitchen sink to peer out the window and into woods locked in perpetually night. There, standing amongst trees, yet in full view; the ominous creature stared at him. [But where’s the wolf?]

A bang at the front door made Peter jump. “Motherfucker…” he cussed as he turned around just as the scratching began. Desperate whimpering and whining interspersed with yapping followed.

Peter looked back out the window and saw the shadow monster rush towards the side of the house on all fours.

[No, don’t even think about it.] Peter started pacing, hands grasping at his hair. [Not your problem. Besides, it’s not real!] He stopped and stared at the door. His heart aching at the agonizing yapping.

[It tried to kill you!] Was his reason’s last feeble attempt as the noise stopped. Peter shot through the hall and opened the door.

It was too late, the wolf was already fleeing in the opposite direction with the creature almost upon it.

[No, it’s not too late.] “HEY!” Peter shouted as he started running towards them. “HEY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I’M RIGHT HERE!”

The creature stopped and turned, and Peter realized that he ran out a little too far, “Oh, shit!”

He pivoted around and burst into a sprint; the thundering behind him pushing him forward and his heart drum rolling his execution.

Fear spurred him on and he could feel a burning energy flow into and through him as he ran. Most of it focused on his chest and legs.

No sooner had he closed the door behind him, when he heard the creature crash into it.

Peter lay on the hallway floor gasping for air hearing the sounds on the other side of the door moving further away.

~HOWL~

“Stupid wolf…Not gonna save you again.”