When Devon swung the butcher knife down, she was startled back to her senses when Lewis growled, "Lin Devon!"
Devon turned to him and watched him stomped his feet towards her. He immediately snatched the butcher knife away as he gazed at her with the unfamiliar sharpness in his eyes.
"What do you think you're doing?!" He seethed as he gripped her wrist tightly.
All she could do for a moment was gulped and look into his eyes.
"I, I," Her lower lip trembled as her mind short-circuited. How would she tell him she planned on severing her fingers to return the body to the original owner?
"Tell him you want to cook," The Spirit instructed unaffectedly. "Tell him you were a bit hungry, so you want to have some midnight snacks."
"What?" Lewis probed, barely containing himself.
"I'm… hungry," Devon whispered as she gazed down. "I want to cook."
