Hot Dog Lady - Chapter 2

A little girl in a tattered antique wedding dress stared up at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

Oh, not invisible.

Just a really short kid.

Her pouch seemed full.

At least 20 gold coins.

I sorted through them, found the smallest copper coin, and handed the rest back.

This one is enough.

Then I began making the hot dog.

Seeing how thin and small she was, my heart achd.

I piled on five sausages, threw everything into the buns.

Bacon, crispy chicken strips, fried onions, melted cheese, spicy chili mac.

The bun split in several places under the mountain of toppings.

I handed it to her.

Enough, kiddo.

The girl stared, stunned at the enormous hot dog.

Then, suddenly, her body seemed to swell, her mouth stretching wide, and she shoved the entire thing in at once.

“Munch, munch, munch.

This This is heavenly.

So good,” she mumbled mid-bite.

I slowly raised Epheina.

“Damn impressive.

First time anyone had ever finished one of my super duper deluxe Chicago dogs in a single bite.

I was moved to tears.

A 100 customers like this, please.

The next day, she brought friends.

A lanky guy with a rope burn on his neck, a waterlogged woman dripping everywhere, and another in tattered wedding fragments.

All of them wore antique tattered dresses.

Feeling sorry for them, I made each a super hot dog, 10 sausages each.

They stuffed their faces, cheeks bulging.

This hot dog is amazing.

I’ve never tasted anything so good.

They relaxed, chatting with me.

I learned they’d all been tied up as sacrifices to forest spirits by villagers.

My heart broke.

I made each of them three more hot dogs to take away.

Anytime you guys want to eat, just come by.

Stalls free.

Hot dogs on me.

They left happy and full, promising to spread the word.

Sweet kids.

By afternoon, my stall was packed with monsters.

I wished for extra arms as I worked.

Every customer became an instant convert.

Just like that, my hot dogs became famous in the horror game.

Every monster stopped by after work for a delicious, sizzling Chicago dog.

The toasted bun hugged the savory sausage piled high with juicy toppings, crispy bacon, and melted cheese.

One bite, pure flavor explosion.

Even a monster covered in eyeballs only could taste this and swoon.

Is life worth living? Business boomed.

I kept running out of supplies, making frequent trips to the real world to restock.

Players had started noticing me, always coming back alive.

They tried recruiting me.

I flat out refused.

I was a player, yes, but I never entered a dungeon to kill monsters to level up.

I just ran my stall.

I figured I must be a special case.

My secret was safe.

I hid whenever players came near.

But one day, a dozen of them walked straight into my stall.

My spot was remote, deep in the dungeon.

They must have gotten lost.

I ducked behind the counter, hoping they’d leave.

They wore matching gear, faces masked, weapons ready.

At first, they were jumpy.

A sausage popped loudly in the warmer.

Instant chaos.

My carefully setup stall became a war zone.

Tables splintered, chairs flew.

Realizing no threats or NPCs appeared, they lowered their masks and collapsed onto the floor.

“We can chill here a bit,” one said.

The leader nodded, removing his mask.

My eyes widened.

Dense familiar.

My ex-husband.