The Cure To A Broken Mind

Chapter 10 ~ Sure as Hell

        As I followed him into the kitchen, I was met with a smell similar to no other. I couldn't quite describe it or put my finger on it as it hit me in waves; it was both nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky all at the same time. So thick and rich, it was almost a taste within itself.

        In a way, It could have been described as beef in a frying pan or particularly fatty pork on a grill. It was truly something else. Altogether, though, the scent within itself only raised more questions as to what the hell the doctor had cooked up.

        In silence, he led me to the dining table, pulling a chair out for me to sit in. I took my seat there, glancing over to him as he wandered back to the counter.

        On his way back, he presented me with a ceramic plate with what looked akin to steak on it. Accompanied by a fork and a knife, of course.

        I stared down at it in thought as he walked to the other side of the table, seating himself across from me. Ignoring the pungent scent in the room, it appeared that the food in front of me was completely odorless...

        "Hey, Doc..?" I uttered, finally looking up at him. He gazed my direction, smiling slightly.

        "Yes, doll?" he questioned now, tilting his head just a bit to the side and raising an eyebrow as he glanced my way.

        "Where did you- uh..." I looked back to my plate, "...where'd you get this?" I cleared my throat.

        "Oh darling, worry not, the cabin provided." he gives a distant laugh at the end of his sentence. It nearly sent a chill up my spine.

        "D-Doctor, I-"

        "It's okay, darling. I found it in the fridge, the expiration date hadn't hit yet. I'm assuming someone's been here more recently than we presumed." he concludes, interrupting me entirely. My trust in him was mangled, and I wasn't quite convinced in his words. Though, as I turned the thought over in my mind, the cabin didn't really seem all that abandon, to begin with.

        The fireplace had still been burning upon arrival and the room appeared to be clean and lacking of dust. With hesitance, I warmed myself up to it.

        Cautiously, I sliced a piece loose on my fork, immediately noting the meat's stringy, almost oily texture. A sigh escaped my lips as I looked at the bite, finally mustering to eat it after a moment of self-coaxing.

        Thankfully, it didn't taste half bad, nor rotten. In fact, it was relatively good, cooked nearly to perfection. It tasted much like fully developed veal, not young, though not mature enough to be considered beef. Though, at the same moment, it was unlike any mear I'd ever tasted, and couldn't be called 'veal' exactly. Nonetheless, comparable.

        Sure, it had been both tough and stringy, but not quite to the point, it wasn't agreeably edible. Thus, it didn't take me long to get about halfway through my portion. As I worked through the food, though, a question in my head kindly lingered.

        "Hey, doc, what kind of meat is this, anyway?" I inquired, looking back up to him, fork ready in hand.

        "Ah," there was a moment of hesitance, but he replied smoothly, "Veal, I'd suppose." he hushed a bit.

        "You suppose?" I asked now, almost inspired to stop eating by the mere uncertainty and nervousness in his voice. Not that the food in itself wasn't good, though.

        "Why?" he asked, "Is it any good?" he murmured before huffing, translating another small, cautious smile to me.

        I was quick to nod in response, concluding in a silent confirmation.

        "There's more in the fridge...enough to last us a few days, at least," he announces this confidently. Kind of strange, though, that someone would keep that much veal in the fridge. It would have at least been slightly more understandable if it had been deer, or something perhaps gamier.

        Though I lacked any more questions to ask, and I proceeded in finishing the meal, something in my mind didn't quite stack up. There was an odd peculiarity to the situation I couldn't quite define. It just didn't add up.

        Nevertheless, I finished the meal, and the doctor was quick to take our plates to the sink and clean them by hand.

        I watched him silently for a moment before promptly getting to my feet and joining him, propping myself up on the counter next to him.

        "Thanks for cooking, doctor..." I hushed a bit, giving a sweet smile toward him as I stared at his hands. There was something caked up under his nails; burgundy in color.

        "Of course, my sweet. Thanks for joining me for dinner~" he cooed almost jokingly, looking over at me for a second as he smirked. I gave a small, near forced laugh.

        "Not like I have much choice, doc." I teased in return, cackling slightly beneath my breath. I caught his eyebrows knitting together a bit at the comment, though. "Kidding, of course.." I concluded.

        "Of course," he replied quietly.

        There was a long pause in silence, nothing but the sound of running water as the doctor cleaned the plates off. It wasn't until he'd finished cleaning them off and turned the water off that he spoke again.

        "Anyways. I'd suggest a nap, there's not much left to do as of the current moment," he suggested. I merely nodded a bit in disappointed agreement. As long as I'd be snuggled up with him, I suppose.

        "Bed in the bedroom look comfortable, then?" I questioned him, hopping back down from the counter.

        "About that," he retorted quickly as I hooked my arm around his, "I'm working in there at the moment if you could just take up the couch-"

        "But- I thought you said there wasn't anything to do-" I interrupted him, looking at him almost accusingly as we drifted back into the main living quarters.

        "Not- for you." he lifted his chin, "Now go rest up." and with that, he left my side, retreating back into that stupid room of his. I feel quiet, sighing in defeat as I slowly begun to hug myself.

        I sure as hell wasn't about to go back to sleep.