Chapter 186: Vampire Luna

The Butcher stepped closer to the iron cell, stopping right outside the thick bars. He slowly dropped down onto one knee, resting his large hands on his thighs as his dark, weathered eyes took in my battered condition. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he surveyed my dusty hair and hollow cheeks.

"Well, you certainly look miserable," he grunted, his raspy voice cutting through the heavy quietness of the corridor.

I let my head rest heavily against the cold floorboards, letting out a raspy, exhausted sigh. "Well, thanks to you, my worms are biting me from the inside out."

The old hunter raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine amusement flashing across his rugged face. "I don't think vampires have worms, girl."

"I am a hybrid, remember?" I snapped back weakly, narrowing my eyes at him through the dark. "Hybrids have worms. And right now, mine are eating my stomach alive."

A low rumble of laughter shook his heavy chest, echoing softly against the narrow stone walls.

I glared up at him from the floor, my jaw clenching as frustration flared up in my tired body. "What is so funny, Mister Butcher? Are you enjoying my anguish? Is my slow, agonizing death some kind of grand entertainment for you?"

He reached down and unscrewed the top of the flask, bringing a warm, steaming bowl forward so the scent filled the space between us. "You won't die if you just eat this."

I turned my face away in deep disgust, my stomach churning at the mere aroma floating toward my nose. "Take it away if it isn't blood bags. You know I can't touch normal food."

"It isn't blood," he replied calmly, his voice remaining totally unbothered by my hostile tone. "It's mac and cheese. And there's a glass of warm milk right beside it with a little sugar stirred in."

A bitter sneer curled my upper lip as a wave of intense nausea hit my throat. "The name alone sounds completely disgusting. Just like you. Get out of my face."

The old man didn't lose his temper or raise his voice. Instead, his expression turned deadly serious, his dark eyes locking onto mine with extreme warning.

"Listen to me carefully, girl," he began slowly, his tone heavy and deliberate. "This plate can't fit through the narrow gaps in these iron bars. So, I am going to unlock the cage door and place the food inside on the floor. But I must warn you right now... do not attempt to fight me when that lock turns. I promise you, you will only end up weaker, more bruised, and far more injured than you already are. In your current state, you cannot beat me."

He reached into his leather belt, pulled out a heavy brass key, and slotted it into the oversized lock mechanism.

CLICK!

The loud metallic sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. The Butcher pushed the heavy iron door open just a few inches, keeping his broad shoulder firmly against the frame to block any sudden escape attempt. Keeping his sharp gaze fixed directly onto my eyes, he reached down with one arm, placed the steaming plate of mac and cheese and the glass of milk gently on the floorboards, and then pulled back instantly.

He slammed the door shut and turned the heavy key back into place with a sharp twist, securing the latch tightly before I could even gather enough strength to push myself off the floor.

He dusted off his thick leather apron, taking a step back into the dark hallway. Before turning his back on me to walk away, he paused, looking over his shoulder with a sharp, calculating glint in his eye.

"Let me give you a free piece of advice, hybrid," he said quietly, his voice carrying a serious weight. "Don't try to savor the food. Don't taste it, don't chew it like a normal person, and don't overthink the flavor. Just force it down your throat and get the food into your tummy."

His heavy boots echoed down the long stone corridor as he walked away, leaving behind a cold, suffocating silence that settled over the small cell.

I lay completely motionless on the dusty floorboards, staring at the steaming plate sitting just a few feet away from my boots. My stomach twisted into violent knots at the sight of it. I hadn't even opened my mouth or touched a single noodle, yet a terrible, sickening feeling was already washing over my entire body.

A dark wave of anxiety gripped my heart. I knew with absolute certainty that if I allowed myself to touch that plate, the sheer disgust would instantly destroy what little appetite I had left. The terrible nausea would overwhelm my senses, I would end up vomiting all over the floor, and I would fail this trial completely. If I couldn't keep human food inside my stomach, I would be stuck in this dark, filthy cage forever, left to rot until my mind completely shattered.

Oh God, help me...

Desperation clawed at my chest as tears burned behind my eyelids. How on earth was I supposed to swallow this meal? The room was completely bare, surrounded by solid stone walls and seamless wooden floorboards. There was no hidden corner, no loose board, and absolutely no secret place where I could dump the food to make it look like I had eaten it. The old hunter would see through any trick the second he walked back into the hallway.

I was comp

letely, totally trapped.