Lily Flower

Dark Enchantress: Origins

TW: visual psychosis, corpses, body horror, graphic depictions of being burned alive

This is the longest singular chapter I have ever written and it's for goddamn cookie run I'm gonna fucking cry-

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It's a body. I just killed someone. She blinked and shook her head, as if the action would dispel the fog that settled around her brain. No, it doesn't count. It was just an experiment. Her hands were stained with the baby's jam, the headmaster's jam. It dripped lethargically from her palms, slowly sinking into her dough as if trying to burrow into her soul.

A corpse lay prone before her.

What was she supposed to do?

Something shuffled in the distance. Snapping out of her stupor, White Lily became aware of just how incriminating her position was. She was practically straddling a corpse of a newly baked cookie, its neck separated from its head, and stray jam splattered across the room. Anyone who came in would assume the absolute worst.

The body had to go.

She quickly contemplated a list of options. She had to work quickly: If anyone found the scene, the jam may be tested and linked back to the headmaster, and he could possibly reveal their actions. Little could be worse than some form of law enforcement discovering Pure Vanilla and her use of forbidden magic.

Burning it wouldn't work. It would create a foul smell, and may attract unwanted passersby. Plus, the corpse was more likely to char than to disintegrate entirely. Tossing it into the river wouldn't suffice either, since cookies float on water and she had no way to weigh it down. She just had to hide it and hope no one discovers the body.

With the help of her magic, she gouged out a pit halfway under the ground of a nearby viguiera bush, dragging the body and dumping it in the hole. She pushed all the dirt into place, then cast a small growth spell so that grass covered the upended soil. Small flower buds sprouted from the ground, no doubt feeding on the jam. White Lily cringed, but let them be. She got a towel from the gardening shed and meticulously washed away the blood splatters, cleaning the rag in the river near the school entrance.

She returned to the glass dome and collapsed on the floor. The rag was haphazardly thrown in a corner. White Lily curled into a ball, head in her knees. She didn't feel like going back to class. Pretending to go about her day in a normal capacity felt too far beyond her reach.

She stayed in the secret garden for hours. The brightness of the day gave way to dusk, then night. Eventually, someone stepped into the private garden. She tensed, wondering if a student, teacher, or the headmaster had found jam strewn near the river, or somewhere she had missed cleaning.

Pure Vanilla stepped into the secret garden. She sighed in relief. It was just him.

"The headmaster collapsed today. Did you go through with the procedure after all?" He did not really phrase it as a question, but as an assertion of fact. She realized with a jolt that he was truly disappointed in her. His mood made her feel slimy. He hadn't ever regarded her with disappointment before. She nodded silently.

He sighed. "Well, did it work?"

She thought of the cries of the baby cookie, the overly crisp dough beneath her hands, and the resounding snap when its neck tore from its body.

"No."

He seemed to accept her answer. "I'm relieved. To be honest, I'm not sure what we would have done if such a method worked."

"I guess so," she said, "It would be a problem if it were alive, huh. Lots of negative implications." White Lily paused. "The headmaster, is he alright?"