Chapter 18 - Shion’s Cooking

We were jolted awake by the thunderous pounding on the door, as if Thor himself had decided to come calling. "RISE AND SHINE," a woman's voice bellowed from the hallway.

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"Wha—" My sentence was cut short when the door violently swung open, revealing an irate Shion standing in the doorway.

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"I said, Get. Up," she commanded, her gaze fixated on me with an intensity that could shatter glass.

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"Alright, alright, I get it!" I hastily scrambled out of bed, my lingering drowsiness vanishing into the ether.

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"Follow me," Shion ordered, her voice icy but firm. She promptly exited our room, leaving me in a state of utter bewilderment.

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Guiding me out of the guesthouse we had been graciously accommodated in, Shion led me into the biting chill of the night air.

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"Miss Shion, if I may inquire, where are we headed?" I cautiously asked, instantly regretting my audacity.

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"Haaa? Why do you care, brat?" Her retort dripped with contempt, although she never even turned to acknowledge me.

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Seriously, what did I do to annoy her? Sighing inwardly, I quickened my pace to keep up with her hurried strides.

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We arrived at a structure that I had never seen before, and she ushered me into a room that was filled with various kitchenware. Wait, kitchenware?

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Oh no. "Congratulations, you're my guinea pig for the morning!" Shion announced, a maniacal grin stretching across her face. "Shuna-sama said I need practice, so you should consider yourself honored to be my taste tester!"

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"Oh~ just imagine the look on Rimuru-sama's face when he takes a bite out of this-" she mused, lost in her bizarre reverie.

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Seizing the opportunity, I frantically scanned the room, desperate to identify any means of egress from this impending precarious predicament.

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Before I could even formulate an escape plan, her vice-like grip clamped down on my arm. "Sit. I insist," she said, her eyes piercing through me like laser beams.

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"Yes…" I meekly replied, obediently making my way to one of the vacant chairs, defeated. Women are scary.

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Shion brought out various carcasses of different animals, using her humongous Odachi to cut them into small(I lied, they were gigantic) chunks of meat, accidentally squishing some into a meat paste.

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Her treatment of the few available vegetables was equally merciless. They were obliterated, squashed into oblivion, and then unceremoniously dumped into a cauldron of boiling, PURPLE water.

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HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MESS UP BOILING WATER. I screamed internally, I really am going to die today, aren't I. A single tear trickled down my eye.

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"HISSSSSSSS" the abomination in the pot seemed to protest the 50 types of mystery meats that Shion was stuffing down its throat.

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Oh my god, did that thing just fucking move. A hand reached out from the mess, attempting to escape. It briefly emerged, wriggling in agony before Shion flicked it back into the depths of the boiling morass.

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"Bon appétit," she said as she set the pot of whatever-that-was in front of me. Her face was filled with a anticipation.

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I didn't dare move an inch, as an heavy silence descended upon the kitchen; broken only by the rhythmic 'plop' 'plop' 'plop' of bubbles that appeared from the eldritch horror.

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"Go on, no need to be shy," She encouraged, looking genuinely excited to see me try her 'masterpiece', "You two, come try it too!"

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Shiro and Kumo, who had been trying their best to remain silent and unnoticeable, jolted upright at the mention of their names. Their eyes locked onto mine, a silent plea for salvation.

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I could only offer them a rueful shake of my head; my predicament was far more dire than theirs.

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Raising my hand, I took hold of the metal scoop that lay against the walls of the pot. Peering into the abyss, the sight the awaited me was horrifying.

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I reluctantly picked up the metal ladle resting against the pot's rim and peered into the abyss.

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What awaited me was an abomination, a Frankenstein-esque amalgamation of flesh, feathers, and claws.

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With a grimace, I plunged the ladle into the stew, cringing at the awful 'goop' sounds that accompanied its descent.

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With a final flick of my wrist, I raised a ladle full of this unholy concoction towards my face.

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My luck had run out; a furry appendage was staring back at me from the scoop, and the goop appeared to be oozing malevolently.

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I gulped my saliva, fearing for what was to come.

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"Have a taste!" Shion egged me on.

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Bringing the ladle near my face, a absolutely PUTRID smell raided my nose. Holding in the urge to make a run for it, I steeled my will.

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I shut my eyes, stuffing a scoopful of goop into my mouth in one fluid motion. The awful taste ambushed my taste buds, quickly overwhelming them.

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And just like that, a wave of darkness washed over me, my eyes rolled back, foam erupting from my mouth.

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I regained consciousness with an agonizing headache, still in that accursed kitchen. Shion was at the other end of the room, engrossed in a conversation.

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Two direwolves lay beside me, foaming at the mouth, their limbs twitching spasmodically.

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"What the hell just happened? Where am I?" I mumbled, my memory hazy.

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Spotting the malevolent pot, my recollection of events returned in a flood, threatening to send me spiraling into unconsciousness again.

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Just as I teetered on the edge of blacking out, a gentle voice spoke.

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"Hey, I'm really sorry about all this," Rimuru said, concern etched on his face.

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"Don't worry, your friends will be fine," he reassured me.

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"Uh-huh," I could only nod weakly, on the verge of hitting the sack.

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"Shion, did you break him?" Rimuru questioned, staring incredulously at her.

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"I swear I didn't, I just gave him the chance to experience my cooking," she replied, her voice tinged with panic.

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Rimuru glanced between me, Shion, and the gastronomic monstrosity that lay before us.

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He clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and solemnly muttered, "May your souls find peace in the next life."