I had a perception disorder that messed with how I saw and felt stuff.

So when I got dropped into a horror game, everyone else freaked out trying to survive—

Me? I thought I was in a dating sim.

I raised a young fae like she was my kid, fell for the vampire count, and treated the undead like my in-laws.

The first time I saw the vampire—face torn up, soaked in blood—I straight-up blushed.

"You're really handsome."

He froze. Then, low and uncertain: "Am I... really handsome?"

I was poisoned with wolfsbane by my destined mate's side chick. Woke up in a whole new world.

Before I could figure out what was going on, a creepy voice dropped into my head:

[Welcome to the Dark Citadel.]

[Survive seven days in the castle to clear the game.]

[Initial players: 30. Current players: 30.]

[Have a great game.]

The voice vanished. We were all just standing there, thirty strangers in some dramatic-looking grand hall.

Then came the crying.

"Waaah... this place is so scary. I wanna go home."

Scary?

Could've fooled me.

Thanks to my perception disorder, my brain airbrushes reality. The grosser something is, the prettier it looks.

So to me? This place felt like a cozy Airbnb.

Meanwhile, some cranky knight-looking dude threw punches at the shadows. "Quit hiding and fight me, coward!"

While most people were busy freaking out, two stepped forward—chill and confident.

They said they were mages. Seasoned pro in the game.

They gave us the rundown:

We were stuck in a horror game. Everyone here? Already dead IRL.

The castle had thirty floors. Each floor had its own monster—or monsters. The higher you climbed, the scarier they got.

Clear all thirty floors, hit the legendary 9,999 points, and you get a second shot at life.

Bonus? A cash prize so massive, you'd never have to work again.

That definitely got my attention. "So how do we earn points?"

One of the mages said, "Depends on your fear rating. Each stage has its own challenge. Clear it with a 99? You get one point. Hit 100? Game over."

Fear rating meant how scared you were.

Experienced players could breeze through with low fear ratings.

Newbies? Took forever to toughen up.

I thought for a sec. "This doesn't seem that hard. If I keep my fear at zero, that's 100 points a floor. I'll hit 9,999 easy."

The moment I said it, the whole room turned.

Every face screamed the same thing: 'Are you serious right now?'

What I didn't see? The Chat Feed was already roasting me:

[There's always that one clueless noob talking big. They're the first to scream.]

[Dark Citadel's an S-rank. Even top witches and hexcasters can't clear it.]

[Big words from the wolf. Let's see if she delivers—don't disappoint me.]

That night, we had to pick rooms.

The mages explained, "Each floor's got one bedroom. At night, a monster shows up looking like someone close to you—and lives with you. Eats with you. Sleeps with you."

Living with monsters? What part of that isn't nightmare fuel?

They didn't even wait. Claimed the first and second floors.

Everyone else scrambled for the lowest levels.

I got shoved all the way to the top.

"Didn't you say your fear rating would always be zero? Since you're so tough, enjoy the 30th floor. Let's see if you're just talk."

They walked off, smug as hell.

Fine. 30th floor it is.

Couldn't see them, but the Chat Feed was going off again:

[She's toast. The monster on the 30th floor? That's the final boss. She's not making it till morning.]

I looked around. Compared to the first floor, this place felt... different. Warm tones, soft lighting. Like a magazine spread.

Honestly, it looked like something out of my dreams.

In the real world, I'd had nothing. Slept under bridges. On sidewalks. Winter nights were the worst.

So yeah—having a room of my own? Felt unreal.

I walked up to the bedroom door, didn't hesitate at all, knocked hard, and shouted, "Hey! I haven't eaten in forever! Feed me or I'm gonna pass out!"

The Chat Feed lost it.

[Is she trying to die? Who knocks like that in a horror game? Something's gonna jump out and eat her.]

[No way she's that calm. She's faking it.]

[I bet her fear rating hits 100 in three seconds. Let's watch her die.]

They just didn't get me.

If monsters were supposed to act like family, then yeah—I was gonna treat this place like home.

Who walks into their house all, "Hello, is anyone there? Please open the door"?

Nope. I knocked like I meant it.

Click.

The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open, cold air brushing my face.

Felt like walking into a perfectly air-conditioned room.

I looked down—and there she was. A little girl in a red dress.

Her face glowed an eerie green, lips blood-red, eyes hollow. She hugged a doll and flashed a perfect, too-white smile.

Pale like a porcelain doll.

And honestly?

Adorable.

I'd never seen such a cute little girl before. She looked just like a princess from a castle.

Then she reached out with an icy hand and grabbed me by the throat.

I pulled her into a hug instead, grinning. "You're SO cute! Like a tiny angel."

Then I caught a whiff of blood.

I checked her over fast. "Are you hurt? Did someone bad mess with you? Just say the word—I'll handle it. No, wait—first aid. Where's your kit?"

The Chat Feed lost its mind:

[What part of that thing screams CUTE?! It's a blood-drenched fae that butchered half the last party!]

[Doesn't matter. She's about to be the next snack.]

But I couldn't see any of that.

To me, she was still my sweet little angel.

I carried her into the bedroom, laid her gently on the bed, and started checking her for wounds.

"Little cute girls like you shouldn't be out here alone," I said. "But you've got me now. I've got sharp fangs—took down five grown wolves once. You're safe."

Somewhere in the middle of that, her grip on my throat slipped. I barely noticed.

Maybe I was imagining it, but her empty eyes looked a little less hollow.

She fidgeted with her dress, fingers twisting the red fabric. "You really think I'm cute?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Of course you're cute. Cutest girl I've ever seen. Having someone like you as family? Makes me happy."

She blushed, cheeks turning pink as she clutched her skirt.

"Thank you... Mommy."

I blinked.

So this is what it feels like to be called 'Mommy.'

Coming from someone this adorable? Kinda melted my heart.

Once she was calm and tucked in, that eerie voice returned:

[Initial players: 30. Current players: 20.]

Less than an hour in, and ten were already gone.

I grabbed my phone. The death logs were public—everyone could see how the others died.

A swordsman and a knight had gotten into it over the third-floor room.

The knight won, stepped inside—then bam. A dragon exploded out, jaws wide, flames flaring.

Chomp. Dude was gone. Not even a bone left behind.

The dragon yawned like it was bored, then slithered back into the pitch-black room like it was clocking out for the night.

It happened so fast, nobody even blinked.

Aside from the two mages who'd seen it before, everyone's fear rating shot up past 50.

One old guy hit 100 just stepping onto the tenth floor. Dropped dead from sheer terror.

The rest of the deaths were all over the place.

But none of it touched me.

To me, this place felt like paradise.

I'd always been the outcast—thanks to my busted perception. Wolves avoided me, called me a freak, even chucked rocks.

The real world? Just filth and rot.

For a second, I thought, 'Maybe staying here wouldn't be the worst thing.'

It was late. My eyes got heavy. I knocked out next to the little girl.

When I woke up, the air was colder.

No lights. Just a shadow moving across the room.

Couldn't see his face, but then he spoke—

And that voice? Low, smooth, stupid hot.

"Mia, that wolf actually survived you? She's more interesting than I thought."

Mia shot back, cold as ice. "Back off, Darkblood Count. Anyone who survives the 30th floor—I'm keeping her."

That vampire's crimson gaze darkened. The air snapped colder.

He narrowed his eyes, then flicked his hand.

Mia flew like a ragdoll, smashing into the balcony glass with a loud crack.

He sneered. "Growing bold, are you? And who granted you the right to speak to me in such a manner? You really think you're my daughter now?"

Watching him toss my adorable Mia like that? Yeah, no.

I jumped out of bed, full mama-bear mode. "So you're the jerk who bullied Mia! Time to catch these hands!"

I aimed a slap straight at his face—then froze mid-air.

And faceplanted. Hard.

That face...

Way too handsome.

Maybe it was the fall, maybe the adrenaline—either way, my nose started bleeding.

He stared, deadpan. From the look on his face, I could practically hear him thinking:

'Is this chick safe to eat? Or is she gonna kill my brain cells?'

I scrambled up, starry-eyed. "Babe, you're really handsome."

Chat Feed blew up:

[Girl. What?? That's DARKBLOOD COUNT. Rotting face. Shredded body. And she's calling him handsome?!]

[Final boss of Dark Citadel. Nobody's made it out alive.]

Everyone braced for the snap—neck style.

That was always how this ended.

But then... a faint blush bloomed on his bloodstained face.

Chat Feed:

[...Hold up. Is he BLUSHING?! That's creepy!]

[Wait. Why is this kinda adorable though?]

[ADORABLE? Are y'all blind too?!]

Darkblood Count stepped closer, voice low and sharp. "Open your eyes. You seriously think I'm handsome?"

I stroked my chin, eyes trailing down.

And the second I saw that sculpted chest and porcelain-white skin—boom. Nosebleed. Again.

"You're not just handsome."

His eyes darkened. Fangs slid out at the edge of his mouth.

"You're tall, hot, with crazy fair skin. You're like... dream guy overload."

I went all in—he blinked, totally thrown off.

Before he could snap out of it, I grabbed his collar, shoved him onto the bed, and cupped his face.

"If you weren't this good-looking, I would've slapped you by now."

His eyes went wide, stunned. That dazed, innocent look?

Yeah, I was living for it.

Thank god this game tracked fear, not heart rate. No way anyone could stay chill looking at that face.

While I was still admiring the view, Mia—fully reassembled—flew in and kicked his head into the ceiling.

Then she curled into my arms, sniffling. "Mommy, Mia hungry. Feed me."

My heart turned to mush. I hugged her. "Okay, baby. I got you."

Cooking was the one thing I actually had down.

They cleaned their plates like it was the best meal they'd had in years.

After dinner, I told them to do the dishes—and they actually did. No arguing, no drama.

I crashed on the couch, munching fruit and watching a horror flick when I heard them talking in the kitchen.

"She talks a lot, but honestly? Not bad. If she keeps cooking, might be worth keeping her."

"What about those two? If they show up tomorrow, won't they be pissed we didn't eat their stuff?"

"That slop? I'm 90 percent sure they're trying to poison us. They say one word—I'll end them."