Y/n never thought her life could get any worse when she moved to Texas. But now, she sits in an old, itchy dress, at a dinner table full of cannibals.

In front of her, Hoyt sets down a big pot of stew. Some broth splatters over the edge and splashes onto the table cloth, staining it dark brown. The room smells of burnt leather, making Y/n's stomach curl. Not even a week of not eating could get her to want any of that.

Luda Mae smiles at her from the seat to her left. Y/n doesn't meet it, keeping her eyes down at her lap.

When she first limped out of the basement, leaning on Thomas for support, she was delighted with the sight of the familiar old lady. But then, dread quickly washed over her when she realised that Luda knew she was down there the whole time, waiting to be killed and eaten, yet she didn't care at all until her marriage proposal to Thomas.

Until that day, Luda saw her as only a meal. The whole family in front of her did, except for Thomas, who stands behind y/n's chair.

"Doesn't she look just lovely in my old dress?" Luda asks

"She's quite the treat for the eyes, Luda. " Hoyt winks at y/n.

Her fingers grip the small ruffled edge of the dress, shaking.

The disabled man- Uncle Monty, as he was introduced to her earlier- grunts in his wheelchair.

"Whose ready to chow down?" Hoyt asks, slapping the bucket in front of them.

"Say Grace!" Luda says.

Everyone at the table bows their heads, except for Y/n. Thomas softly grabs her head and tilts it down. She complies.

"Father in heaven, thank you for blessing this food and watching over us as we introduce another member into our struggling family. May she prove herself useful in such times of need. Amen."

Hoyt starts dishing out bowls as Luda turns to Y/n.

"So, how long have you been in Poth?"

"Since I was 3." She clears her parched throat. "I moved away four years ago, but moved back a couple years ago."

"Oh? Was it the same when you came back."

Y/n eyes the bowl of steaming broth in front of her.

"No."

Luda laughs, taking a bite of the food. Y/n fights the urge to vomit.

"You know, I'm so glad Thomas has found someone. He's never had anyone but us in his life, you see." She sighs, twirling her spoon in the thick broth. "Ever since he met you, he's been acting strange. Out in space. And since you've been here, he's been avoiding you! He's so shy."

"Maybe he'll become a real man now." Hoyt chimes in, mouth full of food.

Y/n keeps her eyes in her lap. She hears Thomas shuffle behind her.

"So," Hoyt leans closer to her, "I heard you're a mask maker."

She nods.

"Suprised people can make money off of that pansy shit. You kids need real jobs."

"It's a family business. We've made plenty of money in the past." She finally speaks up.

"Oh? And how's business now?"

She chews her cheek, biting back a snarky comment.

Hoyt's eyes fall to her gloved hands.

"What? You couldn't get a better job with those mangled hands?"

Thomas makes a low noise. A growl? Maybe a grunt?

Hoyt laughs it off.

"As long as those hands prove useful around the house, It don't matter how ugly they are! Just keep them busy."

"Oh hush, Charlie. You'll be a prized member of the family either way, as long as you and Tommy love each other deeply."

Y/n smiles weakly. She doubts everyone at the table is in agreement with that statement.

Luda eyes the full bowl of stew in front of y/n, before turning to Thomas.

"Why don't you go upstairs and run a bath? She reeks like that damn basement."

He puts a hand on y/n's shoulder. She's happy for a reason to excuse herself. Thomas takes her hand and helps her up, supporting her as they walk up the stairs.

At one point she knocks her ankle on a step and winces. Thomas grabs her shoulder tightly, a pained expression on his face.

"I'm alright." She says.

She waits outside the door as Thomas starts a bath. Anxiety itches at her chest, unsure about showering in such an environment.

He finishes and leads her into the bathroom. Thankfully, he gives her some privacy and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

She sits on the toilet, pulling off her shoes with a pained grunt. She was too afraid to look at the mirror and see what she looked like. Her skin was surely stained with blood and grime. She had gotten use to the smell.

When she goes to unzip the dress, she finds it's stuck.

"Shit. " She mutters under her breathe.

She pauses, biting her lip, before calling Thomas in for help.

She pulls her hair away as his big fingers trace along her back, finding the zipper and unzipping the dress in one easy movement.

The dress slips off quickly, her hands flying up to keep the dress over he chest.

"Thanks."

Thomas grunts, before leaving. His hands did linger for a second on her waist.

She sighs as the warm water hits her. Instant relief of pain in her joints and ankle. She doesn't take her time, for the water turns a gross, grayish color from the grime.

Thomas had put a towel and clothes- probably Luda's- out for her. She dries off and changes, careful around her ankle.

She's thankful for the pair of thin shorts and t-shirt, the texas heat did not give up even in the latest hours of night.

When she's done, Thomas helps her to a bedroom. She sits down on the bed, watching as Thomas pulls out some blankets and pillows from the closet. She lets him, despite the sticky heat.

He turns to look at her, his hand on the door knob. She meets his gaze.

"Thanks, Thomas. "

He grunts again, leaving and closing the door behind him.

The bed is far nicer then the basement floor. Her head hits the soft pillows, relief hitting her again.

If it weren't for the comfort and lack of hydration, she would definitely be sobbing. Her thoughts still raced. How was she going to keep surviving? She made it past another night, but how much longer could she keep up the charade?

Her eyes close on their own. Despite anxious thoughts, she falls fast asleep.