Chapter 2

Even if this was hell, shouldn't the creatures here at least look decent?

Half an hour later, I sat at the dining table. As I stared at the tableful of monsters, I was lost in thought.

If this was hell, then the King of Hell had terrible taste in decor.

The crystal chandelier looked like it hadn't been cleaned in 800 years. There were sauce stains on the tablecloth that I'd no idea who had left behind. The edges of the plates were chipped, too.

I looked at the maid who brought over the soup.

The health bar above her head was so short it looked like a phone with only 1% battery left. Her face was crooked, so one side looked higher than the other. Fish scales covered the back of her hand, and when she held the bowl, I saw the green grime beneath her fingernails.

I stared at the bowl of soup and quietly put down my spoon.

"Why aren't you eating, Ruthie?" Thalia asked, sitting across from me.

The three snakes around her neck were all raising their heads, hissing as they flicked their tongues. Their eerie green eyes were fixed on me.

She continued, "We had the kitchen make this just for you. You didn't get to celebrate your birthday yesterday, so we're making it up to you today."

I looked up at the three snakes. Then, I looked down at the soup.

There were parsley flakes floating on the surface, and the color of the soup seemed normal and pretty appetizing. It looked quite normal.

But I couldn't be sure that those three snakes wouldn't suddenly slither into my bowl of soup.

"Whatever. It's fine," I responded, pushing the bowl a little farther away.

Lorraine leaned closer. A greasy sheen glistened on the tips of her fangs.

She said, "Rue, you've been acting strange since you got up this morning. Your face is so pale."

"I think I'm sick."

I was telling the truth. If I saw everyone as monsters, there had to be something wrong with me.

As soon as I finished speaking, someone walked in through the door. He nodded at Lorraine first and greeted her politely. Then, he smiled at Thalia before finally looking at me.

My stomach churned.

Could I even call that being a person?

In my eyes, a pig had suddenly barged into the room. It had a pink snout, two dark nostrils opening and closing as they puffed out hot air. Its ears stuck straight up, and a strand of sticky drool was hanging from the corner of its mouth.

It came over and sat down beside me.

The pig mouth opened and closed. "Well, you look pretty awful. Are you pretending to be sick?"

I said nothing because I was afraid I'd throw up if I opened my mouth.

When Dwayne didn't get an answer from me, his smile grew even wider.

The pig's head moved closer to me. Hot breath blew from its nostrils onto my face. It carried an indescribably foul and gamey smell.

"Ruthie, I've seen plenty of your tricks. You just want attention, don't you? I'm a doctor. I can tell at a glance whether you're really sick or faking it."

The pig's mouth stretched into a grin, revealing two rows of yellow teeth.

A pig hoof… No, a hand reached toward my shoulder.

That was the hay that broke the camel's back—something in me snapped.

"Have you ever looked in a mirror?" I asked, disgusted.

The pig froze.

I stared at his pink, greasy face with those nostrils opening and closing as they blasted hot air.

Without holding back, I said exactly what I was thinking, word for word, "You look like a rotten tomato that got run over by a tractor three times and then stepped on by a pig. Looking at your face makes me want to throw up."

The dining room fell completely silent.

The pig's face flushed until it took on a brownish red shade.