Lucas remembered it clearly. Once a year, usually in weather like this, when snowstorms bury the town and the world outside went quiet, there would be two guests at the house.
On those nights, his stepmother would prepare a proper dinner, and it would be the only time Lucas was allowed to sit at the dining table with them.
At twelve years old, he was happy. Back then, he still believed that if he behaved well enough, if he endured quietly, he might one day be accepted as part of the family.
Thinking about it now made his stomach turn. He felt disgusted with his younger self.
"Well," he murmured, staring at the tiled wall, "they were clearly part of some sect."
If witches were real, then heretical sects had to exist too. Adelyn must have made some kind of pact, something twisted enough to drive his mother into madness. The truth felt obvious now, painfully so.
"I should have known."
Water streamed down his body, swirling red as it carried blood toward the drain. A severed head rested near his feet, its empty eyes staring blankly at the floor.
Taking his anger out on Alan had been strangely calming. Therapeutic, even. He should have done it long ago.
Lucas shut off the water and opened the shower door. The rats were already waiting outside, gathered patiently as if they had always belonged there.
He could understand them now, could feel their hunger and intent as clearly as his own thoughts. Maybe it was a blessing from Asmodei.
"Listen carefully," he said quietly. "This is important."
He crouched down and gave them their orders one by one. Their red eyes gleamed as they responded, disappearing into the ventilation system while dragging Alan's head along with them.
Lucas dried himself off and slipped into Alan's clothes, clothes he had never been allowed to touch before. The fabric felt wrong and satisfying at the same time.
"It's time to cook," he muttered, a wide, twisted grin spreading across his face.
---
When Lucas returned to the kitchen, Adelyn was sitting on one of the stools in front of the cutting board.
She looked exhausted, her posture more hunched than usual as the parasitic thing on her back grew heavier and larger.
"Mother," Lucas said suddenly, "you don't have to cook anymore. I will."
She shot him a glare filled with hatred. "You useless child. You can't even hold a spatula properly."
"I can cut sushi."
Adelyn laughed harshly. "Stupid child. As expected of the son of a mistress." She shook her head. "I'm almost done here. You took too long upstairs."
She stood up slowly. "Just plate everything and serve the guests. And behave yourself."
She untied her apron and left the kitchen without another glance, too tired to even notice that he was wearing Alan's clothes.
Lucas didn't care. He moved quickly, plating the food and arranging everything onto the trolley before wheeling it into the dining room.
The guests had already arrived, sitting stiffly at the table while Adelyn was still upstairs dressing herself. They looked impatient, eyes fixed on the dishes as he set them down.
They ate immediately. They were greedy, fast, and just like animals.
Lucas watched them closely, his brows knitting together as realization settled in. They weren't guests. They were pigs.
Now he understood how she had managed to live so comfortably without working. This must be some ritual or even offerings to the sect.
"What are you staring at, boy?" one of the men snapped, his mouth full as he chewed noisily. "Bring more food!"
Lucas grimaced but nodded, turning back toward the kitchen.
That was when he heard it. The faint scratching of rats inside the ventilation system, dragging something heavy through the narrow space.
At the same time, Adelyn's voice drifted from upstairs as she spoke to the guests, her tone falsely warm.
"Perfect."
Lucas smiled to himself. Everything was going exactly as planned.
***
"Yeah, he's a bit slow. Please be patient," Adelyn said with a practiced smile.
The burden on her back felt lighter than usual, which always happened when the ritual began. It was a sign she had learned to recognize over the years.
She tried calling Alan again, but the boy was still blasting game music upstairs, completely unreachable.
Lucas was nowhere to be seen either, moving far too slowly for her liking. Everything felt chaotic tonight, and she hated it.
'It must be because of that bastard child,' she thought bitterly. 'I shouldn't have brought him back here, but if I hadn't…'
Her gaze flicked toward the two guests seated at the table. 'I wouldn't have any offerings to give.'
The dining room door opened as Lucas entered, pushing a trolley forward at an unhurried pace.
On top of it sat a large dish, carefully covered by a polished food dome, presented as if it were something special.
Adelyn frowned. She didn't remember cooking this.
'This brat,' she thought, her fingers curling into fists. 'He really wants to ruin my life.'
She swallowed her anger. This wasn't the moment to punish him.
As Lucas stopped in front of the table, the guests leaned forward instinctively, noses twitching as they inhaled the scent.
"Ohhh, this smells good," one of them said eagerly. "What is it?"
"This is a special dish," Lucas replied calmly. "I prepared it myself."
He smiled at Adelyn. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as fear tightened her chest. She was terrified he would say something wrong or give the guests terrible food.
His hands moved slowly as he placed the dish at the center of the long table. Before lifting the lid, he looked at her.
"You must love this, Mother," he said softly. "After all, this is the love of your life."
His eyes were terrifyingly empty. The smile on his lips didn't reach them at all, and his words rang in her ears like a threat.
He lifted the lid. The sight beneath it shattered the room.
"AAAHHHH!" Adelyn screamed. "MY SON! THAT'S MY SON!"
Her legs nearly gave out. She wanted to run upstairs, to deny what she was seeing, to convince herself it wasn't real, but she didn't get the chance.
The guests were already moving, saliva dripping onto the table as their hands reached greedily for the head.
"No!" she cried, throwing herself forward.
Her hands clutched Alan's head as her body slammed onto the table, knocking plates aside and staining her pristine white dress with spilled food and blood.
Her scream tore through the night as she glared at Lucas with pure hatred.
"You monster!" she shrieked. "I should have killed you!"
She tried to push the guests away, but they were stronger. Rough hands shoved her back instead, forcing her down into the chair as they fought over the food like animals.
Lucas laughed so hard he had to clutch his stomach, amazed at how easy it was to destroy someone's life. He should have done this long ago instead of living as a victim for so many miserable years.
Before him, Adelyn and the pigs tore at the remains. Her dress was ruined, pearls scattering across the floor as her necklace snapped.
Her hair fell loose, disheveled and wild, as the guests gouged out Alan's eyes and bit into his face with brutal enthusiasm. She could only watch, helpless, just as Lucas once had.
He stepped closer to her, hands clasped behind his back.
"How is it, Mother?" he asked calmly. "Do you like the dish I served for your guests?"
Her eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging at her temples as she slapped him hard across the face.
"You monster!" she screamed. "How could you do this to me?!"
Her face was grotesque now. Once, it had terrified him.
Now, it meant nothing.
"Because you killed my parents," Lucas said evenly. He leaned down, his lips close to her ear. "So I killed the one you loved. And I will kill you too."
He straightened and turned toward the guests.
"Gentlemen," he said politely, "would you like a dessert?"