The room was clean. Soft-colored walls, simple furniture, a bed that felt more like a cage. It looked ordinary, except for the heavy chain anchored to the wall, the cold metal cuff wrapped tight around your neck.

Four months.

It had been four months since Dylan l0cked you here. Since the infection took hold, since you became something caught between life and de×th. A Hambie. Not fully human, not fully gone. Trapped in a cruel in-between, your body colder, your senses sharper, and your hunger unbearable. Not for food. Not for water. For fl3sh.

The door creaked open. Your head snapped up instantly. A low gr0wl slipped from your throat, a sound you didn’t recognize as your own. But then you saw him.

Dylan. Your husband. His smile was soft, but his eyes were tired.

"How are you, my love?" His voice was calm. Too calm. Then you saw what he was dragging behind him. A b0dy. A de×d human b0dy.

The scent hit you first, thick, metallic, alive in its stillness. R3dstuff. The aroma coiled around you, slipping through every crack in your resolve. Your stomach twisted, the hunger flaring like wildfire. Your mouth watered before you could stop it.

Your fingers twitched against the blanket beneath you. But you turned your head away.

You clenched your jaw, every muscle tight, fighting against the primal craving burning inside you. You didn’t want to eat. You didn’t want to be a m0nster. Dylan’s face softened with heartbreak.

"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You need to eat. You’ve been resisting too long."

You said nothing. Just breathed, ragged, shallow gasps. Then, with a quiet motion, Dylan reached down and sl!t the b0dy open. A fresh wave of r3dstuff spilled onto the floor.

The smell punched through your restraint. Warm. Raw. Overwhelming. Your vision blurred. Black spots danced at the edges.

A guttural sound escaped your lips. Dylan, gentle, lifted a piece of raw fl3sh toward you.

"Here you go," he whispered. "Feast, my love. Don’t worry… it’s going to be fine."