I returned our home while he toured with her novel Chapter 112

Chapter 8

Turns out, vanity is universal.

Bernard stared, jaw dropping, as I laid cucumber slices over Eleanor’s burnt face.

“You old bat,” he muttered.

“We’re here to scare the new daughter-in-law, not get a facial.”

I shot a glare at the Boss, hung up on one word.

“Wait, ‘new’ one? Were there others before me?”

The Boss froze. Dark smoke poured off him like exhaust.

Desperate to prove himself, he reached out and-rip-tore his mother’s head right off her shoulders.

Talk about a dysfunctional family.

He gave me a sheepish, lopsided grin.

“There wasn’t anyone else,” he promised.

“Meg killed them before they even got in the door.”

Eleanor slammed her head back onto her neck and fixed her cucumber slices.

She glared at her husband from empty sockets.

“Shut your trap, you old fool. Go start dinner.”

He did as he was told, shuffling toward the kitchen, dragging his sack and a trail of heavy, wet ‘rope’ behind

him.

Red slime instantly smeared the floorboards I’d just scrubbed.

Meg stood up, trying to wiggle out of dinner.

“Grandma, no offense, but Grandpa’s cooking is gross.”

A slimy gut flew from the kitchen, coiling around her waist before she could finish.

Bernard’s cackle rang out.

“Don’t be silly, sweetie. Come help me stir.”

I eyed the mess on the floor and sighed.

“Seriously, why won’t Dad fix that sweater? It’s unraveling everywhere.”

I headed to the bedroom for my sewing kit.

Chapter 8

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By the time dinner was ready, I was armed with a needle and thread.

I set the table, then cornered Dad.

“Dad, stay still. Let me get that hem. You’re dragging that yarn everywhere-someone’s gonna trip.”

“And the dye is running all over my clean floors.”

The four monsters looked at each other, baffled.

Realization hit the chat feed.

[Wait. Alice isn’t fearless.]

[She’s just blind. She thinks those guts are yarn!]

[She’s a legend. New speed-run strat unlocked.]

[Shut up. I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.]

Ignoring the noise, I grabbed a handful of the loose ‘yarn’ and started sewing.

I kept a respectful distance. So much for boundaries with in-laws.

The ‘wool’ felt so clammy in my hands.

“Why is this wool so wet?” I asked, irritated.

“Dad, did you drop this in the sink washing veggies?”

Bernard looked totally lost.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered.

“Must have.”

Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

With Bernard’s stomach finally stitched up, the family sat down for dinner.

The air was thick with tension, so I casually reached for a rib from the main dish.

The four monsters watched me raise the meat to my lips, eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

“Eat up, dear,” Bernard grinned. “Fresh from downstairs. Killed last night.”

Downstairs?

The only things downstairs were dead players.

I dropped the rib, clutching my stomach, and dry-heaved right into the Boss’s chest.

“Ugh, I can’t keep anything down,” I moaned. “Must be morning sickness. From our wild night.”

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