UnwillingEldritchHorrorofFortune
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Chapter 180: A Relaxing Dinner
🕑 Added 2024-08-22 03:07:31 +0000 UTCI opened the door and was greeted by Greta’s son. He was, uh… unique looking. I think I understood why the Trash Matrix warned Aspirants to escape before he came back.
First of all, the “boy” was massive. He was easily about 7 or 8 feet tall and almost as wide. All in all, this creature was a huge mass of fat, tumors, and muscle. His left arm was atrophied to a ridiculous degree, with it being nothing more than a vestigial appendage at this point, yet his other arm was close to the size of my entire body. His bloated stomach was covered with a patchwork of leather, some of which still had the faces of its poor victims, and it was covered with stains of dubious origin. A huge meat cleaver hung on his waist, and a slab of mystery meat was hulled on his shoulders. His beady little eyes and lop-sided grin were the only thing child-like about him.
“‘Ello,” he slurred, “Uh, welcome to our house.”
“Hi,” I answered, not sure what else to say.
“Rupert, don’t stand by the door, come in and meet the rest of the guests!” his mother said over my shoulder.
I scooched and marveled at Rupert’s ability to squeeze in such a small door, showing remarkable agility and dexterity as he managed to get in without even touching the doorframe. He lumbered past me, dragging the bleeding pile of meat behind, and waved at his mother with his tiny hand. I closed the door behind me and went back to my seat.
“Put it right in the kitchen, dear,” Greta said, still in the process of sewing Toby’s arm back on, “And don’t forget to wash your hands! We have important guests today!”
“Yes, ma,” he replied as he slowly made his way to the kitchen. I couldn’t help but see him stare at Alice and Toby in curiosity.
Before long, the boy came back and joined us at the table. He moved one of the chairs to the side and sat directly down on the ground.
“Now introduce yourself, Rupert,” his mother said with a sigh, “I’m sorry, he’s usually playing by himself, so he’s not used to interacting with others.”
“It’s okay!” Alice said quickly, “And hello Rupert, I like your apron! I’m Alice, and that’s Toby.”
“‘Ello, Alice and Toby,” he said shyly and fiddled with the stained leathers, “And thanks, I made it ‘mself.”
Greta finished her repairs on Toby and handed her son a mug of bubbling liquid. “He’s quite the skilled little tailor, I’ll have you know! Why, he even hunts, skins, and tans all of his leather himself. Even the threads are handmade!”
“Stop it, ma,” he whispered, “That’s embarrassing…”
Toby shook his head. “No, I think that’s really cool! I tried to help out Alice’s mom when she’s getting new arms and stuff for me, but I’m not very good at it. She won’t let me try skinning anything…”
“I’m not good at it either,” Alice nodded, “There’s a lot of tears and stuff when I try.”
“It takes loads of practice,” Rupert answered, and a hint of a proud smile started to appear, “But uh, I can show you some tricks and stuff to make it easier.”
Toby perked up, I guess he was interested in this… interesting hobby. Honestly, how does Rupert manage to do any kind of intricate work with those deformed hands? No, never mind, somehow I think it best if I didn’t find out.
“Can you?” He asked with wide eyes.
The big lad nodded enthusiastically. “No problem! I gots loads of spares you can use. Can I go show them, ma?”
Greta shook her head and chuckled. “Well, you were supposed to help out with the cooking, but I suppose I can manage by myself this time.”
“I’ll help,” I added, “No sense letting you do all the work since I stole your helper!”
“Well thank you, Dr. Walter,” she replied and turned to her son, “Now dear, why don’t you go play with your new friends?”
“Friends…?” he muttered.
Alice nodded. “Yup! Do you want to be friends with us?”
He nodded again, causing his whole body to bounce this time. The floors shook with the displaced weight.
“Then we’re friends!” the girl continued with a smile, “Look Toby, we have a new friend!”
“Wow…” the other boy said, “That’s a lot of friends! Hello Rupert, let’s go play!”
“Make sure you kids come when we call!” Greta said as the three scrambled away toward that strange chained-up door.
The locks opened by themselves as Rupert neared, and a wide, dingey set of staircases led deep underground. If this were any other situation, I would be concerned about letting two small children go into a creepy cellar/basement, but somehow I think this is a standard affair with this particular group of kids. Was my… was my sense of normalcy skewed? I shook my head, it was better not to think like that. I mean, these villagers, albeit a bit strange-looking, were rather nice, so who am I to judge their unique hobbies?
I joined Greta in the kitchen and helped her with the last dinner prep. Now, if I was certain that things were not as they seemed when I saw the weird door, the huge black cauldron sitting in the back of the room certainly sealed the deal. It was bubbling with some kind of viscous, sludge-like substance, with chucks of read, meaty globs poking out of the surface every now and then.
I gulped.
Greta smiled, having mistaken my reaction with something else entirely. “Now now, Dr. Walter. I know you must be hungry, and trust me when I say that not very many could resist my stew, but it’s not quite ready yet.”
I nodded. “Right, sorry. It certainly looks amazing already!”
She gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Oh, you! If only I were a few thousand years younger! Now be a dear and help me with the meat.”
She handed me a huge butcher knife, large even in Dr. Walter’s form, and easily hauled the slab of mystery meat that her son brought back onto the wooden butcher’s table.
I frowned. “Is that…”
She shook her head quickly. “Oh heavens no! I can tell from your reaction that you must have had the misfortune of trying some of those outsiders, but trust me, this is certainly not it!” She shuddered. “I made that mistake a few decades back, and-”
I remembered Xalla’s words. “They’re absolutely the worst thing you’ve ever tasted, I know.”
She nodded. “Worst mistake in my life! Those Humans, I think they’re called, are officially off the menu. I can still recall the taste…” She shuddered. “Took me a good week to get the aftertaste out of my mouth. But anyway, we usually get a good assortment of different outsiders, but that particular species comes annoyingly often.”
Huh, I knew that humans, at least on Earth, had never been in this stage before, but if she’s seen them before, and multiple times at that, then it could only mean that she’s encountered them on various other timelines or parallel dimensions. I never thought about it before, but surely that must have been the case with Hope’s Memorial as well. Does that mean that the Trash Matrix uses the same trial grounds regardless of where the Aspirants come from in the multiverse? Was there only one version of these Trials? More food for thought.
Speaking of food, butchering the not-human meat was incredibly easy with the good doctor’s enhanced stats. I was tempted to use this form to cook from now on if it weren’t for the… aesthetic problems involved. Greta, for her part, expertly seasoned the meat with spices - some of which were labeled with names that probably weren’t safe for normal consumption.
“A pinch of hemlock and oleander gives everything a kick,” she explained, “And the aftertaste of Arscinic just finishes it off. You’ll love it!”
“I can’t wait,” I said, watching her switch to the fourth metal stirring ladle, the others had dissolved into the stew.
“I just wish our blacksmith was still around,” she continued with a sigh as the new instrument was already eroding, “They don’t make good cooking utensils like they used to.”
“That must be inconvenient,” I replied, “But I’m sure the extra metal will add to the flavor.”
She gave me a kindly smile. “It does, but most of it just falls to the bottom, and then I’ll have to get it off after. Anyway, why don’t you go get the kids? It’s just about finished, and I’ll go and set up the table.”
“Should we-”
She must have noticed my hesitation and shook her head. “I know you have a lot of questions, especially on our ceremony, but you don’t need to worry about that right now. We’ll talk after a good meal, so take some rest, Doctor; you of all people should know that rest is necessary.”
I wanted to argue but thought better of it. She was right, if the Trash Matrix didn’t initiate the new phase of the Trial and forced the Aspirants to enter the village, then we still had some time. I can’t imagine normal Aspirants would be as comfortable in this kind of place as I was, especially if they’re constantly feeling dread just staying here. Nothing would be gained by rushing.
“You’re right,” I said, “I’m just worried about this village. Everyone’s shown me nothing but love so far, and as a doctor, I don’t want to see its people suffer. I tend to rush things.”
“I know,” she answered, “You have a good heart, but working too much will do you no good, so go, Dr. Walter. Get the kids and enjoy some home-cooked food. You’ll feel much better after, and you’ll need to be at your best to work.”
I walked toward the cursed door and gave it a knock.
Greta chuckled. “They’re not going to hear that, dear. It’s soundproofed, and for good reason! Just go down, but watch your step!”
I nodded and did as told. The door handle was oddly cold to the touch as if I was grasping ice instead of metal, and the tiny singular light did little to illuminate the gloomy cellar. I walked down the steps, going down way lower than what should be possible, and I had almost thought the stairs would never end until I started to hear the echos of something ominous.
First came the horrible screams. It was hard to pick up but grew in volume as I went down lower and lower. Then came the rattling sound of chains and the scraping of metal, before finally, right behind another metal door, I could hear the giggles and whispers of children, barely audible behind the tormented voices. I was tempted to open that metal door, to see what exactly was happening, but decided that it wasn’t exactly the smartest thing to do right before dinner. Instead, I knocked on this door and called out.
“Alice, Toby, Rupert!” I shouted, having to amplify my voice with Noe so that I could be overheard, “Food’s ready!”
I waited a moment, unsure if they heard or not, and I was about to call again when the door opened up and Rupert stood before me. His hands were covered with a crimson liquid, and specks of gore lined his apron.
“But we’ve just got started…” he said, giving me a goofy grin.
“Yeah, Uncle Walter!” Alice shouted somewhere behind the boy, “Give us 5 minutes please!”
I shook my head. “You three can continue after dinner.”
“Aw…”
“Come on, Rupert, your mom made your favorite. You can, uh, finish up here after, okay?”
The huge individual reluctantly nodded. “Okay… come on! We should go get food!”
I looked at Rupert’s grimy appearance and added. “Don’t forget to clean up first!
“Okay, Dr. Walter,” Toby replied for the three, “You go up first, we’ll clean up and we’ll be up in a minute!”
I sighed but went up first anyway. This basement was giving me some strange feelings, and even as a guest and a monster myself, I wanted to get back to the hut as soon as I could. “Don’t take too long!”
Dinner was a relaxing affair, once I’d gotten used to the strange visuals of the food and drink in any case. The kids joined us almost ten minutes later and received a light scolding, but they giggled and whispered to each other after that, completely forgetting what they did wrong.
True to Greta’s words, her food was delicious. Maybe it wasn’t at the same level as some of the delicacies I’ve had with Big Bob and Xalla, but it had that distinct, homemade taste that you just couldn’t get in restaurants. The three children had all but wolfed down their own portions and were already on their third course; how Alice and Toby were even able to eat, given their technically ethereal form, was a mystery, but it was nice to see that they were able to do so. It’d be rather sad if the two could only watch the rest of us eat.
Once we were fully stuffed, and the children had returned to the basement to continue their play, Greta turned to me with a solemn expression. It was finally time to address the Trial.
She sighed. “I suppose it is time we discuss the Outsiders.”
I nodded. “It is. Can you tell me as much as you can about where they first came from? No offense, but I find it hard to imagine that they would give you so much trouble given your village’s resources and residents, even now in its reduced state. Surely a few dozen Outsiders could have been easily destroyed in a concentrated assault?”
She gave me a bitter smile. “If only it was that easy. Come with me, Dr. Walter, just out in the garden. I think it is easier to show you why we cannot simply eliminate them all at once.”
