Evan sat naked on the table. All around him was the hum of activity and the glare of spotlights. The scent of herbs, spices, and wine filled his nose. Cameras were everywhere. He looked behind him. There was a large board with the words "Legendary Dish Show".
Suddenly, Lady Onyx appeared beside him. She wasn't wearing her dominatrix outfit, but a chef's uniform. It felt strange on her, yet somehow it suited her perfectly.
"And now we present to you the greatest culinary revelation in all of Carnivora. A true mystery of flavor."
Evan looked around, but he couldn't see anything clearly.
"Here is the rarest delicacy in all of Carnivora. A young, tender, and juicy human."
Him? Again? He didn't know why, but he felt no panic, no fear, not even unease. Quite the opposite — he felt pleasantly complimented. He was proud.
He turned sideways and stretched out his leg.
"Look at these magnificent thighs — they're practically begging to be roasted."
Evan turned his back to the cameras and knelt down.
"Imagine these strong shoulders and soft buttocks. They must have such wonderful flavor qualities."
He pushed his ass out toward the audience and began shaking it. He did it almost unconsciously, as if something else was controlling his movements.
"Come on, just think about it — does anything even need to be said? Nothing but eat. Preferably right now."
For some reason, Evan felt excited at those words.
Suddenly, a stern voice spoke up.
"I disagree."
The space beneath him suddenly opened. He fell onto a conveyor belt that looked eerily similar to the one in the factory. He looked to the side. Commissioner Vollmond was standing there.
"He cannot be eaten yet. Before the meat is approved for consumption, it must undergo inspection to ensure it meets all standards."
The belt started moving. He went through the familiar process of washing, drying, and inspection.
"Class A. Approved for sale."
There was a brief silence, broken by the sound of an official stamp.
Evan expected the guillotine from the factory next, but it didn't happen. The transporter dropped him onto a tray, which was quickly sealed with foil. In an instant he found himself in a shop display case. Everywhere were nice white tiles and silver counters. Customers crowded around, wondering if they could afford him. He was rare and expensive.
Suddenly Arslan appeared in front of him. He bought him and took him to an exceptionally well-equipped kitchen.
"We have very special guests. We need to hurry with the cooking," he said as he unpacked him.
He laid him bound on a roasting pan and began rubbing him with butter.
"Such good meat doesn't need anything flashy. It needs simplicity to bring out the very best in it."
Evan felt he had to agree. Arslan sprinkled him with salt. Then he placed him in the oven. He felt the heat. He was sweating, and fat was collecting in the pan beneath him. From time to time he was taken out for basting. With excitement he wondered who he would be served to. He felt no fear — only arousal.
Finally, after finishing at a higher temperature, he was ready. Tender and juicy inside, crispy and golden on the outside.
Arslan arranged him on a platter with an apple in his mouth and covered him with a lid.
For a moment he was in complete darkness, but he could feel himself moving. He heard a sound, and then the lid was lifted.
He lay on the table along with roasted potatoes and a gravy boat filled with his own juices. At the table sat Callisa, Frida, Aiko, and Morona. They each had plates in front of them.
All of them were talking about how delicious he looked and how wonderful he smelled. Callisa stood up and picked up a knife and fork. He felt no fear — he was incredibly aroused.
Callisa stabbed the fork into him. She pressed the knife against his body and said sweetly:
"Thank you for the meal."
He felt truly fulfilled when she said that. As she began to move the knife, a horrible sound rang out. It sounded like fingernails scraping on glass mixed with the clinking of shattering glass. As if something was constantly being ground and cracking.
Evan jerked awake and realized he was lying in his bed in the dorm.
He looked up. The same familiar ceiling.
"Was that just a dream?"
He sat up in bed and sniffed his arm. Nothing unusual. Just a normal smell. No traces of herbs or spices.
Yes, it was only a dream… but why did he feel disappointed that it was only a dream?