Chapter 187: Vampire Luna

I sat completely frozen on the cold wooden floor, staring at the steaming plate of food resting just a few feet away from my boots. In an instant, a heavy wave of bone-deep exhaustion washed over my entire soul, leaving me completely drained of every ounce of willpower I had left. It felt as though my spirit had simply snapped in half.

Every single aspect of my current existence was begging me to just lie down on the dusty floorboards, close my eyes, and surrender completely. The overwhelming sight of that warm, yellow meal sitting inside my cell felt infinitely worse than enduring a ruthless physical beating. It felt far more agonizing than having a rusty blade dragged slowly across my bare flesh.

How on earth am I supposed to survive this nightmare?

If a cruel enemy suddenly appeared before me right now and forced me to choose between being stabbed a hundred times with a sharp dagger or sitting here staring at this single plate of food, I would have thrown myself onto the sharp steel a hundred times over without a second thought. At least physical wounds eventually healed, or at worst, brought a quick and merciful end. But this psychological torture was tearing my mind apart from the inside out, piece by piece.

A quiet, bitter regret bubbled up in my chest, burning like acid in my throat. I desperately wished I could turn back the hands of time. If I had known that my life would end up twisted into this horrific, living hell, I would have fought with every drop of strength in my body to never, ever taste human blood for the very first time. I would have preferred to starve as a normal human girl rather than open the door to this uncontrollable, bloodthirsty curse.

No... stop it, I scolded myself fiercely, clenching my trembling fists until my nails bit painfully into my palms. Regretting the past won't break these iron bars, and overthinking won't get me through the night. There is no time for pity stories.

Driven by a sudden, desperate burst of energy, I threw my body forward, dragging my weak legs across the dusty wood until I was kneeling directly over the container. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I possibly could, holding my breath to block out the overwhelming aroma as my shaky fingers reached out and pried the plastic lid off the top.

The moment the seal broke, a hot cloud of steam hit my face, carrying the rich scent of melted cheese and butter straight into my nose. Even with my eyes firmly closed, a heavy sob tore through my raw throat, and hot tears spilled over my eyelashes.

Why did he have to fill the entire container all the way up to the very top brim? Why was there so much of it? It felt like a deliberate punishment. It seemed as though the old hunter didn't actually want to help me at all; he genuinely wanted to watch me choke to death on human food right inside this cage.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to summon every last grain of courage hidden deep within my battered soul. I slowly opened my eyes to face my torture head-on.

The moment my dark pupils focused on the yellow macaroni, a strange, violent reaction exploded across my skin. It was as if my hybrid body recognized the non-vampiric food as a deadly threat. The skin on my face instantly flushed bright red, burning with a sudden, searing heat. An unbearable, intense itching sensation erupted across my chest, neck, and arms, spreading like wildfire under my skin.

"Ah... no, no, no!" I gasped, frantically shuffling backward across the floor to put some distance between myself and the plate.

I began scratching at my forearms with wild, unhinged aggression, my sharp nails digging deep into my skin as I tried to tear away the maddening itch. I scratched and dragged my nails over the flesh until red marks flared up, eventually breaking the surface skin until raw, bleeding bruises formed along my arms.

Stop it! Just stop! I screamed at myself internally.

I forced my hands away from my bloody forearms, pressing my palms flat against the cold floorboards as I gritted my teeth through the burning itch. I couldn't afford to waste my limited energy bleeding on the floor over a reaction. I had to ignore the agony, endure the maddening scratches, and keep my entire focus locked on finding a way out of this iron hellhole.

I dragged my body back toward the food, staring down at the yellow pasta as I remembered the Butcher's parting words: Don't try to savor it... don't taste it... just try to get the food into your tummy.

A faint spark of realization lit up inside my desperate mind. If I treated the food like a bitter pill, maybe I could trick my body into accepting it. If I could somehow swallow the pasta whole without letting it touch my tongue, the disgusting taste wouldn't trigger my gag reflex, right?

Yes... that's it. That is exactly what I have to do.

My mind drifted back to my childhood days, long before I ever knew what a werewolf or a vampire was. Back when I was a tiny, frail girl living under my aunt's harsh roof, I absolutely hated taking bitter medicine. Whenever I fell sick, the sight of a tablet made me want to throw up. So, to avoid tasting the bitter powder, I would throw the entire pill into the very back of my throat and wash it down instantly with a massive gulp of cold water before my taste buds even registered what was happening.

However, this plate was not filled with a couple of tiny, round pills. It was a massive mountain of soft, thick pasta submerged in rich cream. I couldn't just swallow it in one simple gulp; I needed a proper, calculated strategy if I wanted to survive this without vomiting all over the floor.

What if I load the spoon as heavily as possible? I reasoned silently, my heart pounding rapidly against my ribs. If I take giant, overflowing scoops and force them straight down my throat, I can clear this entire container in just four massive mouthfuls! That means I will only have to endure the terrible agony four times instead of twenty.

It was a risky, terrifying plan, but it was the only chance I had to pass this trial and earn my freedom.

Determined to get it over with, I grabbed the heavy wooden spoon resting beside the tray. My hand shook violently, the utensil rattling against the side of the bowl as I dug deep into the warm pasta. I piled a massive, towering scoop onto the wooden spoon—so much that pieces of cheese were spilling over the edges.

I took a deep breath, opened my mouth wide, and shoved the entire overflowing spoon deep into the back of my throat.

I didn't chew. I didn't let my tongue taste the flavor. I compressed the thick mass in the back of my throat and swallowed hard, forcing my neck muscles to drag the heavy wad down my esophagus.

The moment it went down, a horrific, unnatural lump formed in my throat, making me gasp for air. Panicking, I grabbed the cup of warm milk with both hands and poured the sweet liquid down my throat, gulping frantically to flush the food down into my stomach.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, panting heavily as the liquid settled into my belly. I froze, holding my breath, waiting in absolute terror to see if my stomach would violently reject it.

One second passed... then two... then three.

It worked... oh my god, it actually worked! Relief flooded through my veins, and a tear of pure joy slipped down my flushed cheek.

Then, without a single second of warning, an explosive, supernatural force detonated inside my chest.

Before I could even process what was happening, an invisible, crushing weight blasted upward from the floorboards, lifting my entire body straight off the ground with terrifying, unnatural speed. I launched into the air like a ragdoll, screaming as my head and back slammed violently into t

he hard, wooden ceiling above.