Can Cosmic Horror be Grounds for Divorce?

“You’re not… going to run away, are you?”

Looking at my husband, who had appeared out of nowhere, I cautiously hid my bundle.

As expected, my husband had an uncanny knack for sensing when I was about to flee.

‘…Or maybe he’s actually a ghost.’

As I clamped my mouth shut to hide my panic, he spoke in a low voice.

“Darling, I don’t like people who break promises.”

“No, it’s not… that.”

“So, put that bundle down. And look at me when you say you’re not leaving.”

‘He’s starting to show his true colors as he gets angry. Could you please stop?’

I sighed, watching my husband’s form shift—black mist, grotesque tent**les, and eyes turning beastly. With a weary nod, I gave in.

“…Why would I leave such a nice house? You’re mistaken.”

“Right? I must have misjudged. I’m sorry.”

In an instant, my husband flashed a radiant smile and returned to his human form.

There’s something strange about the house I married into.

The maid wanders the halls sobbing every night,

the stablehand occasionally sheds scales from his body,

and an eerie, unidentifiable hymn echoes from the castle’s chapel.

I even witnessed the knight commander’s hand transform into something like an octopus arm.

One of the vassals was muttering in a bizarre language and, upon being caught, invited me with, “Would you also follow ■■?”

“Count, I believe a married couple should always be honest with each other.”

“Well… yes, I suppose.”

“So, I’ll ask just one thing. Count… you’re not human, are you?”

“…”

My husband began to sweat profusely, like a waterfall.

I rubbed my temples as I watched him.

My in-laws’ house was a den of all sorts of monsters.