STAW Vol 1. pt. 8

If you’re going to try being an evil overlord, do it correctly.

There are three doors in this hallway. I assume that one is for Lilith, one is for her now-dead brother, and the final one leads to her late parent’s room.

I open the nearest door and am immediately met with a clean, tidy room full of “cute” things and bright colors. This is definitely Lilith’s room.

A pile of stuffed animals – or rather, stuffed monsters, sits on her bed. There are dragons, tentacle abominations, demonic animals, and… is that supposed to be that fireproof Nessie?

Almost every single one of the toys has been patched up and sewn back together at least once. It looks like none of them have been spared from whatever has torn them up.

The vanity mirror in the room looks like it would be beautiful – something priceless that would be found in a classic Victorian mansion, but that is only if it were not for the glass being shattered.

Not a single thing in this room looks like it hasn’t been broken and then poorly fixed in one way or another. The mirror, the stuffed monsters, the bed frame, the window and blinds – nothing in this room is in good condition.

I pick up one of the stuffed monsters.

It reminds me of one of the toys my daughter had when she was a child. Its right eye has been replaced by a button on top of some patched fabric, and the sewing work leaves much to be desired. Going by the fact that there is a sewing kit tucked away in the corner of the room, I can only assume that Lilith is the one whom has been trying to put everything back together.

Such a incompetent girl. Can’t even sew properly. Is there anything she can do right?

I head into the next room once I’m done with hers.

Everything in this room is still in decent condition, and it all looks to have been recently used. Must be that dead brother’s of hers.

Whereas her room was cutesy and bright, his is dark and edgy. Would it be right to say “was” in this case rather than “is?” I’m not sure. I only killed him about two hours ago, and when people in movies or television show off the rooms of their children whom have died or moved out, they usually use past tense. Well, let’s go with “was.” His room was dark and edgy. Everything is black or red with a few emptied bags and boxes of snacks left sitting around.

I even see one of those tentacle roaches crawl out of a box.

I’ll let the goblins clean this room. If they do a good enough job of cleaning it, those who do not get fed to the kitchen cellar’s monster may get to stay in it.

There is only one room left.

Going into the room at the end of the hallway, I am greeted by a large portrait directly in front of me featuring whom I assume is Lilith’s dad. They have the same hair, eyes, and horns, but he has a twisted and black goatee. At least he has a good sense for facial hair. However, having a large portrait of one’s head over the bed and directly across from the door is in horrible taste. I feel bad for his wife if she had to wake up every morning to see that hanging on the wall above her. The moment I stepped into this room, I felt violated by the portrait’s stern glare.

The first thing I do is take the portrait off the wall and lean it front-first against the wall. Nobody wants to see that face.

The next thing I do is check the sheets to make sure that they are clean and not bug infested. In all my times traveling for business meetings and staying in hotels, the first thing I learned to do when in a new room is to check for any stains and/or bugs. Next is to check for hidden cameras, but I doubt that there are any of those in this world… well, if there is a modernized sink of all things, I may as well check for cameras.

After a thorough investigation of anything that could possibly be hiding a camera, I come to the conclusion that there are no potential spies.

Now, back to the bed. It is rather sizeable, easily large enough for my purposes. The pillows and mattress are both soft, but not too soft. The bed is not so high off the ground that getting into it would be annoying, nor is it so short that getting out of it would be an issue. This bed is the only perfect thing that I have encountered in this new world thus far.

There is a grand closet, mirror, bookcase, and – bookcase? I walk over to it and check out its books. It has books about the world’s history, history of the various devil tribes, a bestiary of the many monsters and animals of the world, and more – all incredibly useful information. Now I have something to read. I am sure they will serve as splendid expositional info dumps to make all of this easier.

One more door is connected to this room. Opening it, I see a large bathroom with a toilet, sink, and a large tub. There may not be a showerhead, but the tub looks just as modern as the sinks do.

The good: I can take normal baths.

The bad: this makes no sense and I despise it.

This is one of those cases where the good outweighs the bad. As much as I hate how modern sinks and tubs are in this world, I do not hate them more than I prefer being clean. Having to manually fill the tub with water does not appeal to me either.

I look at the toilet. One of the downsides of growing older is less bladder control, so as soon as I see it, the urge suddenly hits me like a waterfall being held back by a dam made of toothpicks.

I am happy to report that the toilet does, in fact, work like a modern toilet.

Now, it is time to test the bed.

I take off my jacket and set it on the chair in front of the bedroom’s vanity before I crawl onto the bed. It’s comfortable. Actually, this bed is far better than the one I had on Earth. I might even take a short nap here.

I have no idea whether it is safe or not to go to sleep as a human in a realm full of demons, devils, and fireproof Nessies, but any potential concerns are not going to stop my eyes from drifting shut once my head hits the pillows.

When I wake up, I have no idea how much time has passed. It looks the exact same outside as it did before I fell asleep. However, I do feel rested, so enough time passed which is all that really matters. Well, being alive also matters to some degree. If I’m going to die in this world, I would at least like to know how I die. I am sure that all manners of interesting deaths are possible in this world that would have been impossible on Earth. Though, as soon as I think they may possibly be interesting, I am reminded of how unoriginal this world is and wish I would have never woken up.

I should probably go check on that failure of a seamstress outside.

First, stretches. Stretching in the morning is important for physical health. I would rather not have back pain or any sort of other physical, chronic pain later on in life because I did not take care of my body while I could.

Next, Lilith.

I reach the entrance to the mansion after walking by six goblins passed out in the middle of the hallway downstairs.

I wonder if they are even smart enough to realize that Albert is gone?

Anyways, I open the door to the outdoors and see one certain Lilith curled up into a ball with her knees to her chest, eyes shut, and the grass in the yard cut down to a more manageable height.

At least she knows how to cut grass.

Though, I wonder where all of it went. I would have thought there would be a pile or two of cut grass sitting around, but there are none. Curious. But, not curious enough to make me care for longer than it took to realize that. It will forever be a mystery left unknown.

A few more hours pass by.

I am sitting on my new bed with my back to the wall and a book about this world’s history in my hands. Thus far, I have learned that – well, to be honest, it is really rather boring. It is essentially the same as human history but with real demons and angels. Humans are just as cruel and as stupid in this world as the demons try to be, apparently. I also learned that the most powerful dark lord of all time—

“Milord?” Lilith asks from the entrance to my room.

“What?” I answer her.

“Ummm… how – how did I end up in bed?”

“You must have sleepwalked to it.”

“B-but, wasn’t the door locked, Milord? I tried opening it for an hour, but it wouldn’t open…”

“Maybe you are stronger in your sleep.”

I take a quick glance at her and see a smile creeping onto her face. Good, she “sees through me.” If she thinks that I actually care about her and am bashful about having carried her to her bed, she will be more likely to obey me and more eager to repay me. The more I make her think I care about her, the more she will devote herself to me. Well, she already is, but there is always space for even more devotion. I need to train her into being willing to kill herself for me if I so demand her to.

“A-and, about the umm,” Lilith pauses.

“About the what?” I ask.

“Nevermind! Nevermind, Milord. I umm – I hope that I did not harm the door when I opened it in my sleep. I will be back soon to help you!” Lilith says, keeping one hand behind her back as if hiding something, and closes the door before walking back to her room.

Hopefully, she’ll learn how to fix her toys better with the examples I left for her. I couldn’t just leave those pathetic attempts at repairs sitting around. If you’re going to sew a stuffed monster back together, do it correctly.