Chapter 4I’m Just Cannon Fodder NPC in a Horror Game

To be honest, my memory of my first love was incredibly blurry.

Perhaps spending so much time in the horror game had eroded my past.

The earliest memory I possessed was of a man holding me tightly, weeping, promising he wouldn't let anything happen to me.

Seeing him cry had torn my heart apart. Even with only that fragment, I knew he was the most important person in my life.

But when I next opened my eyes, I was staring at a throne made of blood and bones. A man draped in shadows sat upon it, eyes closed, resting.

He looked seventy percent like the face in my memories, but his aura was entirely different. When his eyes snapped open, they were a deep, crimson red.

Sensing I was awake, a long black tentacle slithered from his shadow, gently tilting my chin up.

"You're quite beautiful," he murmured. "How would you like to be my thirteenth wife?"

And so, I became his thirteenth wife.

He claimed he couldn't stand a marriage that wasn't real, routinely ignoring the game's boundaries just to tease and torment me.

And now, a man who looked identical to my memory had appeared, bearing the exact same temperament.

I couldn't help but ask, "Addison... have we met before?"

Addison pushed open the door to a bedroom. As I stepped inside, he turned, his arm brushing past my cheek to click the door shut.

"Why do you ask?"

The room was dark, but his eyes caught the faint light from the hallway, gleaming with a dangerous intensity.

"Nothing. You just feel very familiar."

He leaned in, his breath smelling of cold cedar enveloping me. "Because I look like him?"

"What?"

Which "him" did he mean?

Before I could process it, his hand slid down to my waist, slowly tracing upward. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver straight down my spine.

"Did he touch you like this too?"

As our breath mingled, he let out a low, husky laugh. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear before he pulled back.

"Get some rest," he murmured, leaving me flushed, breathless, and utterly confused as he slipped out the door.

Well. He was a professional tease.

I took a cold shower to calm down, then crawled under the covers and drifted into a heavy sleep.

The bed felt strangely similar to the one back in my castle.

In the middle of the night, I vaguely heard the door click open. A dark shadow swiftly moved toward me.

He stood by the bedside, watching me for a long time, before leaning down to press a fierce, almost punishing kiss against my lips.

"Mmh..." I whimpered, struggling against the intensity of it, but my eyelids felt like lead.

A pair of dark, possessive eyes stared down at me through the gloom.

Surprisingly, the familiar gaze put me at ease. I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck and hooking my legs around his waist. "Stop playing... go to sleep."

"Esme, who exactly are you calling?"

His hand slid beneath my nightgown, his fingers digging into my waist with bruising force. Exhausted, I patted his wrist weakly. "My husband just died. Not yet..."

"..."

I could hear the sound of his teeth grinding. "You little witch. So you do remember your husband just died."

"You swore you'd never betray me. Yet the moment I close my eyes, you throw yourself into the arms of a lover? Hmm?"

He seemed genuinely furious. Pulling my gown up, his lips trailed fire from my waist upward. "Where did he touch you? Here? Or here?"

He bit down hard enough to sting. I kicked out in irritation. "Leave me alone!"

But my foot hit nothing but empty air.

I snapped awake. The room was pitch black, and I was entirely alone.

I shrank back against the headboard, my hand trembling as I touched my waist. The faint, red marks left on my skin were painfully real.

Oh my god. My dead husband had come back from the grave to claim my soul.