The human Sister from the infirmary stopped in to clean up Itzal’s wounds. She was as gentle as she could be, but it still stung like hell, and by the time she was done, he wasn’t doing too well. Having someone so close to him for so long, especially while he was in pain, was difficult. A low buzz of panic was beginning to build under his skin.
Then came the next ordeal: breakfast. A minefield disguised as a buffet.
A kitchen ghoul had laid out an entire banquet on the long table. Pastries, pancakes, fruit, bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, juice, every condiment imaginable. The others were already piling their plates, chatting as they loaded up.
Itzal stayed put, curled up in an armchair near the wall, eyes fixed on the food. Sunshine had stopped by. She’d heard what happened and, with a free morning ahead, came to check in. She stayed to be helpful, and, she admitted, the breakfast spread was just too tempting. She came over, plate in hand.
“Aren’t you hungry? You should grab something before the ghouls inhale it all. They eat like horses. What do you want? I’ll make a plate up for you.”
She smiled at him, bright and expectant. But the simple question twisted something in him. His mind blanked. The pressure of making a decision, any decision, was suddenly too much.
He’d never had a choice in things like this. In anything.
“I’m not sure. I’m fine. I’m not really hungry anyway,” he said, just as his stomach growled and betrayed him.
He was absolutely starving.
Sunshine’s expression softened.
“How about I just make you a plate, and you can leave anything you don’t like. No pressure.”
Itzal exhaled, relieved, and nodded. Thankfully, the others were too wrapped up in their food and conversations to notice him spiralling over what to eat for breakfast.
She returned a few minutes later with a plate stacked with a little bit of everything. Then she fetched him a coffee and a glass of orange juice, setting them gently on the table beside him before sitting in the next chair over.
“There you go. The pancakes are amazing, by the way. I recommend starting there.”
He thanked her and took a sip of juice, then picked up the fork she’d brought. He cut into the pancake—it was soaked in syrup and melted butter—and took a bite.
His eyes closed. He let out a quiet, involuntary moan.
“You like?” Sunshine asked, pleased.
“Wow. Yes. These are fantastic,” he said through another bite.
She laughed.
“Ha! It’s like you’ve never had pancakes before.”
“I haven’t.”
Her smile faltered.
“You’re kidding? Never? Then you don’t know how to make them either?”
“Nope. I can make toast. And heat something from a can. That’s about it.”
She sighed dramatically, then her eyes lit up with mischief.
“If you’ve got time tomorrow, I’ll show you. They’re super easy. You can come up to the ghoul lair. We’ll use the kitchen there. I’m sure Papa won’t mind. There’s a rehearsal in the afternoon, but I’m free until lunch. I’ll come get you?”
He smiled and nodded, hopeful that Papa would approve. It would pass the time. And he liked spending time with Sunshine. She made him feel... normal. Like he wasn’t just a tool or a threat. Like he mattered.
YOU ARE READING
Nameless Ghoul
ParanormalA ghoul is summoned illegally and enslaved by a rogue sect of the Clergy. For the past twenty years, an evil Satanic sorcerer has held Itzal captive. He took control of his will, subjecting him to unimaginable horrors, and forced him to commit acts...
