Nobody is stupid enough to venture into unknown territories, except for Ilya. Don't get him wrong! He never meant to enter that mysterious village.
Fate led him there to save, or be saved.
"Peekaboo!"
Beast is a cruel creature that used to be human...
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Charlie was so excited about dinner. It was practically all he talked about since this kind beautiful boy blessed his house with his presence.
"I told you," Ilya jolted up to his feet, protesting, "I'm not staying for dinner."
The feisty teenager tried to compose himself as soon as he remembered who he was talking to—An unstable lonely old man with a muscular hulky body. He could squash him like a bug.
Charlie was surprised at first, but his toothy smile quickly came back.
"Nonsense!" He walked into the kitchen, shaking his head. "I can't let my guests leave without a proper feast. Look what I got for ye."
Charlie pointed at a small cage with a live animal inside it, a feathery animal. He opened the cage door and the animal started fluttering its wings. Charlie pulled it out and held it on the counter.
"Cook fresh, never frozen," Charlie said as he positioned the bird's head on the rough surface. "My mum always said."
"What?" Ilya froze, both eyes wide open. "What are you doing?"
Charlie flashed a smile at Ilya and said, "Serving my dear guest the best bloody chicken ever."
Ilya shook when that chicken flapped and clucked loudly, struggling to get out of Charlie's broad hands. Then Ilya saw Charlie reaching for the biggest knife he had—a cleaver.
"Wait."
Ilya maneuvered around the coffee table and desperately tried to reach the kitchen and stop Charlie from butchering that chicken.
It was too late.
Charlie lifted the knife and sent it down on that chicken's neck. As soon as the blade reached the surface of the counter, the head of that helpless bird was severed from its body.
Swish—Pop!
With an involuntary jerk of his hands, Ilya covered his ears. It was the first time he ever saw such a savage way of killing an animal.
The chicken continued to flap its wings even while missing its head. Blood poured out of the hole in its neck as Charlie waited for it to stop moving.
So much blood. So many horrible noises. Ilya cringed and held back a scream.
He wanted to look away, but his eyes refused to move. His stomach flipped. There was no way he would eat that chicken after what he saw.
Ilya wasn't clueless. He knew that was how humans got chicken meat, but to see it happening in front of his eyes, the killing, the flapping, the gurgling, it was all too barbaric.
Finally, the horrible scene came to an end. The chicken stopped moving. The blood stopped pouring, leaving a messy red stain on the marble surface.
Ilya was surprised that Charlie didn't even blink, which meant he did this often; he didn't even mind the blood on his hands and the red on his sleeves.
