Chapter 11: Unrevealing the truth behind all,,

They walked through different areas of the village, passing by people who lived in quiet harmony. The houses stood neat and well-kept, each one a testament to the care of its owners. Arthur observed the scene, his gaze lingering on the small details—the way laundry swayed gently in the breeze, the scent of fresh bread drifting from an open window.

Then, without warning, Terrence stopped. Arthur nearly bumped into him, his curiosity piqued. He followed Terrence’s gaze and immediately felt his stomach tighten.

The house before them was in shambles. The walls bore deep, jagged scratches as if clawed by something desperate. The ceiling sagged, riddled with holes, barely holding itself together.

“This is her house,” Terrence murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Arthur’s brows knitted together. “Is she the only one living here?” he asked, scanning every inch of the deteriorating structure, his mind racing to piece together a picture of its occupant.

Terrence hesitated. “She told me she lived with her mother, but... I’ve never actually seen her.” He paused, pressing a finger to his chin, his expression clouding with thought. “If we go inside, we might find out more.”

He rapped on the door twice. They waited. Silence.

Terrence shifted on his feet, his impatience evident in the way his fingers tapped against his arm. He knocked again, harder this time. “Is anybody home? If someone’s inside, please answer us!” His voice carried a slight edge, tight with frustration.

Still, no answer.

Clicking his tongue, he reached for the doorknob. Arthur watched as his fingers curled around the rusted metal, twisting it. The door creaked open far too easily, the sound scraping against their ears like nails on stone.

Their eyes met. Neither spoke, but their expressions mirrored the same unspoken thought—something wasn’t right.

Terrence stepped inside first.

“Are we really doing this?” Arthur asked, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. His voice was low, uncertain.

Terrence sighed. “No, but what else can we do? No one’s answering. And... I’m curious too. Maybe we’ll find her mother.” His conviction was enough to drag Arthur along.

Arthur exhaled sharply, pressing his lips together. “Fine. But let’s not get caught.” His fingers clenched into a fist, tension rippling through his body. He didn’t like this, but he had no choice.

Inside, they were met with an unexpected sight.

The interior was oddly well-kept. Dust clung to the sofa, but not enough to make it unlivable. The kitchen sink was clean, utensils neatly arranged. Even the floorboards, though worn, bore no signs of neglect.

Terrence let out a sigh, dropping onto the couch, rubbing his temple. “So much for answers,” he muttered, frustration clear in the way he ran a hand down his face.

Arthur remained standing, his gaze sweeping across the room. Something didn’t add up.

Then, through the thick silence, a sound cut through—low, guttural, inhuman.

A shudder crawled up their spines. The fine hairs on Arthur’s arms stood on end, his breath catching in his throat. The air in the room shifted, thickening, pressing down on them like an unseen force.

They exchanged glances.

“W-What was that?” Terrence’s voice came out barely above a whisper, his lips trembling against his will.

Arthur swallowed hard. “I don’t know. But we have to find out.”

He stepped forward, eyes locking onto the corridor ahead. At the very end stood a room. No door—only a thin curtain swayed slightly, stirred by an unseen force. A sliver of darkness peeked through the opening, revealing only the faintest outline of a bed.

As they moved closer, the air grew heavier, suffocating. Every breath felt labored, thick with something unnameable.

They reached the doorway.

And froze.

Their eyes widened, breath hitching, stomachs twisting into knots.

A woman lay on the bed, her limbs bound, wrists and ankles secured tightly. But it wasn’t the restraints that unsettled them—it was the way she moved.

Her body jerked in unnatural, erratic motions, as if something inside her was fighting to escape. Her breath came in ragged, wheezing gasps. Her fingers twitched violently, curling and uncurling against the bindings.

Arthur’s legs felt like lead, his body stiff as stone.

Terrence’s breath was shaky, his fingers trembling at his sides. “W-We shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, barely able to form the words.

Arthur took a step forward, instinct driving him to help—but Terrence grabbed his arm, his grip tight with unspoken urgency.

Arthur turned to him, confusion flashing across his face. “Why are you stopping me?” His voice was low, cracking slightly.

Terrence swallowed hard. “I-I have a bad f-feeling about this.” His lips quivered, fingers cold and unsteady.

Before Arthur could respond, a chilling wail tore through the air.

“LILY!!!”

The woman’s voice twisted with rage and desperation.

“RELEASE ME FROM THIS! I AM YOUR MOTHER! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO YOUR OWN MOTHER? YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!”

Her words tumbled out in curses, each one more venomous than the last. She thrashed violently, the bed creaking beneath her weight.

“LET ME DIE IN PEACE!!!”

Her screams swallowed the entire house, the sheer force of her voice rattling through their bones.

Arthur and Terrence stood frozen, trapped in place, their minds struggling to process the horror before them.

Back to where Alice and Lily were, they sat at a table set for the judges of the cooking contest. Lily’s eyes locked onto her, frowning deeply. “Why are we judging the contest? I thought we came to eat.” Her stare was tense and sharp, her fingers tapping lightly against the table in irritation.

Alice laughed awkwardly, shifting in her seat as if trying to ease the heavy atmosphere. “W-Well, I didn’t have my pulse with me right now, and Arthur went somewhere without me knowing. That’s why I thought it would be best to come here and eat for free, right?” She raised a peace sign, her smile slightly forced.

Lily exhaled, arms crossing as she leaned back. “Well, I guess it’s okay since we won’t have to spend a penny.” She sighed, her expression softening just a little.

The contest finally started. The contestants moved with practiced precision, slicing, stirring, and plating with focused determination. The air grew thick with the rich aroma of spices, sizzling meats, and freshly baked bread. The scent wrapped around them, warm and inviting.

Lily’s stomach let out a low, audible growl.

Alice turned to her with a teasing smile. “You sure are hungry, aren’t you?” Her voice was light, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes.

Lily stiffened, a faint pink dusting her cheeks. She quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the competition.

As the contest continued, some contestants finished their dishes, carefully arranging them with artistic flair. The atmosphere became tense, charged with silent competition. This wasn’t just about winning a prize—this was their pride as chefs on the line.

Finally, it was time for their job. Plates were placed before them, each dish a masterpiece in its own right. Alice noticed only one spoon and fork at their table. She stood up, raising her hand with a bright smile.

“Excuse me, can I have another spoon and fork, please?” Her voice was gentle, careful not to disrupt the flow of the event.

A staff member hurried over, her brows furrowing slightly. “Apologies, we thought we had prepared everything beforehand.” Her voice was low, her lips pressing together in a small frown.

Alice shook her head with a reassuring wave of her hand. “Oh no, it’s okay! I came here with a friend, so I need two.”

The staff’s gaze shifted toward Lily, who kept her head down, shoulders slightly hunched. A flicker of understanding passed through the staff member’s face before she offered a small smile. “I see. Well, please enjoy the contest to your heart’s content.” Her tone softened as she placed the utensils down and walked away.

Alice sat back down, her eyes settling on Lily, who hadn’t lifted her head. “What’s wrong?” Her brows lifted slightly in concern.

Lily hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. “N-Nothing.” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. She slowly raised her spoon and took a bite, her movements careful.

As they ate, the announcer’s voice suddenly rang out, making them pause.

“All contestants, please proceed to where your dishes were assigned.”

Alice looked up just as a man approached their table. He had a gentle smile, his posture straight yet relaxed. “Good afternoon, Judges. I’m Bob. It’s my honor to serve you a dish that I personally made.” His tone was polite, but there was a quiet confidence in it.

Alice cleared her throat, adjusting her posture slightly. The warmth in her demeanor didn’t fade, but there was a shift—something more serious now. She smiled. “I didn’t really hear the flow of the contest, so I thought all the dishes that were served at our table were made by all the contestants. There were so many… Knowing that you cooked this many within a time limit, I respect that.”

Bob lowered his head slightly, a gesture of humility. “Thank you for the compliment. I appreciate it.” His voice was steady, respectful.

Alice turned to Lily, who was still eating. “What do you think, Lily? Is it delicious?” She tilted her head slightly, watching her friend’s reaction.

Lily swallowed slowly. Her hand trembled as she set her spoon down with deliberate care. Her lips parted, but no words came at first. Her fingers curled slightly against the table, her expression stiff, unreadable. She frowned and bit her lip.

Alice and Bob watched as a single tear slipped down Lily’s cheek. They were surprised by her sudden behavior.

Lily blinked, as if just realizing she was crying. Her breath hitched. She quickly raised her hand, covering her face as if trying to hide.

“I-It’s… v-very delicious,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never tasted anything this… good before. T-Thank you.” Her voice wavered, raw and uncertain, as if the words felt foreign on her tongue.

Alice smiled softly, reaching out to pat Lily’s head. She then turned to Bob. “I guess seeing her act like this is enough to convince you how delicious your dish is, right?” Her voice was gentle, warm, her eyes shimmering like stars in the night sky.

Bob’s lips curled into a wide smile, his eyes glistening with emotion. He bowed deeply.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I will treasure this for the rest of my life.” His voice was strong, resolute.