Pure Vanilla: The Cake Tower Trio (2)

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TW: Brief mentions of euthanization + hand-wavey medical things

Fun fact: Pure Vanilla and the Dark Enchantress are the only ones who add "cookie" after saying a character's name. It's an old people thing here.

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His first memory was of a burning fire.

He gained consciousness, awoken by the crying of monsters. He felt a hint of annoyance at being interrupted from a deep, peaceful sleep, then faint shock upon the sight of something twisting around him. As the glowing tendrils curled around his body, he felt a searing sensation, that the prickling, biting feeling was bad. The child retreated from it, instead seeking the faint slits of light that didn't hurt to touch or look at.

He clawed with his misshapen body, scraping against the bars of the oven. The cake creatures were too large and bulky, but the child had only an arm. He was tiny enough to squeeze away. But once out of the fire, he froze. His newly formed body was still soft and he could only walk so far. Where was he supposed to go? He knew nothing of the world. Though the baking ovens were terrible, it was all he had. Accepting death came naturally, when he was baked into it.

Upon the platter, in the shadows behind an alcove, an angel watched. Red Velvet had never seen another cookie before. She was larger than him, he could tell, but not by much. On a closer glance, another small girl hovered next to her. The white figure turned to the kid and they had some kind of conversation.

He felt a stab of jealousy. Why couldn't it be him there, with the angel? The child expected to die, yet with the simple presence of a new figure, still and quiet just beyond the horizon, even something as trivial as the presence of another he yearned for more than he possessed. He did not wish to go into the cruel night alone.

He looked back at the creatures from within the oven. They were beastly things of dripping creme with red undertones. They screamed and bayed at the bars trapping them, at him for daring to escape, at the world for being borne into it. Young as he was, the half-cookie could tell he differed from them. He wished desperately for the company of something of his kind, like that white-haired angel on the platter. But she was too far away.

He slipped back into the bars, trembling in pain at the searing heat. A cake hound was clawing at the bars, farther from the fire than the others. The child hugged its fluffy hind leg and the monster let him, too intent upon breaking the oven to pay the pest any mind.

This was all he could get. At least the monsters would die with him. He watched the ghostly figure grab the smaller one's hand, trying to hide. They were too late. One of the hulking creators had noticed their scampering and headed their way. He gasped as its grizzled claws snapped them from their alcove, tossing the pair into the boiling liquid.

He buried his face into the beast's sizzling fur. It was as if the sight had truly solidified his fate. He would end up the same as the other cakes and cookies, in boiling stew or roaring flame.

Clang

He jerked up in surprise.

Drip, drip. Clang.

Something large dragged its upper body from the pot. Two horns sat upon their head, glowing liquid dripping from gleaming white hair. With a gasp, the child recognized that his angel had survived.

But she had changed.

Whatever had crawled out of that cauldron was larger, crueler. She had laughed as she rained carnage upon her creators, and he watched in awe. To his young mind, The Dark Enchantress was a hero, beating up the bad people who would bake and eat him. Glowing portals appeared in the oven as she created crystals and then shattered them, and the things trapped within, including him, ran free.

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