Chapter Text
Many cookies would likely find Red Velvet Cookie’s affliction to be more of a curse. That is if anyone other than Pomegranate Cookie, the Cake Hounds, and Dark Enchantress Cookie herself knew. It was a secret he kept careful guard of, not out of fear of himself, but out of fear of other cookies. Many found his arm repulsing enough already, and he wasn’t eager for them to see the price it came at.
Nights like these, where the clouds choked out enough of the moonlight so that Red Velvet could safely hunt, were few and far between. Oftentimes, he found himself cooped up in the castle, evading his own companions, with nothing but the pull of the outdoors and his fellow cakes to keep him company. Nights like these were rare, so much so Red Velvet had yet to miss taking advantage of one.
Heavy, ruby-red claws thudded against the soft earthbread as he barreled between the trees, chasing down some poor cotton candy sheep that had escaped its pen and decided to try and explore the forest surrounding the ranch. The cool night air whistled past, rustling his red-and-black fur as he ran, his tongue lolling out like a dog’s.
Many cookies would likely find Red Velvet’s affliction to be a curse, but to him, it was the greatest gift he could ever ask for. Sure, it was inconvenient at times, but it was a small price to pay for the opportunity to be one and the same with his precious hounds, if only for just one night a month.
A sheep bleated weakly as Red Velvet snagged its leg in his long, icing-white fangs, savoring the taste of the strawberry jam oozing from the wound. The poor thing continued to struggle before Red Velvet dropped it, pinning it down with a heavy foreclaw. He glanced around to assure there was no one nearby, then leaned down with a wide, toothy grin, and took a bite out of the sheep’s neck. It gave one last pained squeal before going limp.
A high pitched bark behind him prompted Red Velvet to drop his prey and look over his shoulder. A slight smile crept across his face as a familiar vanilla cake hound ran across the brush to him, barking excitedly with its tongue hanging out of its mouth. The hound nuzzled up against Red Velvet’s leg, looking up at him with round, brown eyes. Red Velvet smiled, patting the cake hound with one of his claws and pushing the sheep over to it with the other.
“Aww, Chiffon, did you follow me all the way out here?” He chuckled as the cake hound took a big bite of the sheep’s cotton-candy wool. It gave a happy, albeit muffled, bark.”You’re such a little rascal.” Red Velvet tore off one of the sheep’s hind legs and sat down, taking a big bite out of the tender meat.
He and Chiffon relaxed there for a short while, savoring their meal and the comfortable midnight silence. After a long moment of quiet, Chiffon sat up, facing its jam-covered snout to the thick clouds above them, and let out a long, whistling howl. Red Velvet tilted his head for a moment, before he noticed the break in the clouds above them, allowing the silver moonlight through.
He chuckled a bit, “Not quite. Try this,” He took a deep breath, puffing up his chest, and lifted his nose skywards. A sideways glance revealed a very excited looking Chiffon staring at him expectantly. Red Velvet took a moment to calm his nerves, and let a deep, echoing howl escape his throat. He held the wolfish note for several seconds before lowering his snout to catch his breath and look at Chiffon.
The smaller cake hound looked stunned for a moment, before jumping to a standing position. It took a deep breath, holding it in its cheeks for a moment, before howling again. Red Velvet was halfway through another critique of Chiffon’s howl when he heard a twig snap behind them. He glanced over his shoulder and stood up slowly. Chiffon jumped up and growled in the direction of the sound, but stopped when Red Velvet crouched down, put a claw in front of it, and shook his head.
“I’ve got this, Chiffon… Go home, I’ll be right behind you.” He growled in a low voice. The cake hound looked at him for a long moment before barking, nuzzling his leg, and running off into the trees. Red Velvet watched it go before turning to the source of the sound, picking up his sword with a low growl.
* * *
The Godly would never make Cookies for such a barbaric purpose. To suggest so is nothing short of heresy. It was all just a bad dream…
Pastry Cookie muttered what had become her new mantra under her breath. It had been over a month since her exploration of the Cake Tower; over a month since she’d fallen into the Ultimate Dough and witnessed the Godly Banquet… The scene still gave her nightmares. The Witches eating cookies… Dark Enchantress Cookie… That half-cake heretic…
Pastry shook her head, wandering aimlessly through the thick cake roll woods. The heavy clouds blotted out the dim light of the moon, leaving only a few thin trails of silvery light to snake their way through the canopy of leaves. She couldn’t sleep. She rarely could recently. Every time she closed her eyes all she saw were those she once thought of as godly eating cookies. Cookies like her . She’d asked Reverend Mother Cookie a few days afterwards, and she’d assured Pastry it was merely a bad dream.
“It’s okay, Pastry Cookie,” she’d said, “It was just a nightmare. Nothing at all to dwell on.”
“Just a bad dream…” Pastry breathed. If that’s all it was… Then why did it seem so real…?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a panicked bleating. She stopped and looked around to find the source of the sound. The bleating continued as she began following what seemed like a distressed animal. A few moments later, the bleating came to an abrupt halt. Pastry picked up her pace. That couldn’t be good, right? No, it couldn’t. After a few moments, she was at a full sprint, silently racing forwards and weaving between the trees.
She almost stumbled over her own feet skidding to a stop when she heard someone talking. Another cookie? Out at this hour? She pondered what anyone could possibly be doing out so late… But then she realized she herself didn’t have much of an excuse. Pastry shook her head with a defeated sigh and slowly crept forwards until she could catch what was being said.
“You’re such a little rascal.” The voice chuckled in a low, gravelly tone.
Pastry, her curiosity piqued, slowly moved forwards until she could see who was talking. It was slow progress, but eventually, she could see the silhouettes of the creatures. She felt her jam run cold in her veins. It wasn’t a cookie… It was a pair of cake monsters. A small cake hound and a much larger werehound brute. They were facing away from her, luckily. Pastry raised her crossbow, aiming the brute, but… Something about it seemed oddly familiar. She couldn’t quite place it, but… She felt like she’d seen it before. Its bright red body, decorated with black and white frosting fur; its sharp, red claws and the long, jagged scar cutting across its shoulder and upper back… Pastry shook her head and adjusted her aim. It was just a werehound. Sure, she’d never seen a red werehound brute before, but it wasn’t too far of a stretch to assume that a certain cake-armed heretic had baked it. He did seem oddly fond of those tainted desserts.
She found herself hesitating when the smaller cake hound started howling. It was, in some odd way, cute, in the sort of way only a small beast could be. Its maw was stained with strawberry jam. When it shifted to sit up, Pastry saw the source of the panicked cries from earlier; a cotton candy sheep, now deceased and half-eaten. The cookie’s stomach churned at the image. That poor innocent creature… Suddenly, the small cake hound didn’t seem so cute.
It finished its high, squeaky howl, and looked up at the werehound brute expectantly. The brute chuckled, and spoke in a gravelly voice; “Not quite. Try this,” the werehound brute took a deep breath, and let out a booming howl. The sound was a deep, echoing roar that seemed to rattle the very trees. Pastry could have sworn she saw birds fluttering from their midnight perches, but she couldn’t be entirely sure.
The sound froze her in place, fear overwhelming her senses. Why was she so scared? It was just a cake monster. She’d slain hundreds of them before… Why was she so scared of this one? She realized she was shaking and struggled to calm her nerves. She knew she needed to get out of there, run before the beast noticed her… But some primal instinct, previously buried deep in her dough, baked her feet to the dirt below her, praying that, if she just stood still, she wouldn’t be seen.
She breathed out a breath she hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding when the brute finished its petrifying call. The smaller hound attempted to replicate the sound, but its high pitch kept it from quite reaching the awe-inspiring tone of its larger companion.
Breaking free from her terror, Pastry took a careful step backwards as the werehound brute opened its mouth to speak again. Apparently, she wasn’t careful enough, as her foot landed on a twig, snapping it under her weight. She froze, her jam turning to ice. The cake hound jumped up, turning to face where she was, and growled. Slowly, the werehound brute looked over its shoulder and stood, turning around.
It was tall, taller than any werehound Pastry had seen before, and easily twice as tall as any cookie. Its scar reached from its shoulder down its chest, stopping just below the thick layer of red-black frosting-fur that covered its shoulders and upper arms. Two long strands of fur hung down from either side of its wedge-shaped skull, framing narrow black eyes with icy blue slit pupils. It bared its sugar-white teeth and crouched down, placing a large claw in front of the small cake hound, and looked down at its companion.
“I’ve got this, Chiffon… Go home, I’ll be right behind you.”
Chiffon … Pastry recognized that name… Where had she heard it before-?
The Cake Tower.
That’s what that Cake-Armed Cookie had called his cake hound… Chiffon… Was that the same hound? If that was the case… Then that werehound brute must have some connection to the Cake Monster Cookie.
She filed that thought away as the cake hound ran off into the woods with a quiet whimper. The werehound brute turned to look in Pastry’s direction, scanning the trees with cautious eyes. It snarled and drew a long, serrated silver blade with ruby-red ornaments. The same weapon the Cake Monster Cookie had wielded in the Cake Tower.
Pastry didn’t have time to ponder the connection between the two cake beasts. She raised her crossbow, taking careful aim at the werehound. She took a breath and uttered a prayer,
“Book of Flour 18:9 ‘...Let the Godly guide thine blade to purge the fallen of their spoiled dough…’”
The werehound brute’s head snapped around as it tried to find where Pastry was hidden. While it was confused, she fired her crossbow, striking the beast in the chest. It roared and fell to its knees, clutching its sword in one claw and its wound in the other. It curled its ruby-red claws around the handle of the fork embedded in its fur and ripped it free with a grunt, flinging droplets of white frosting across the grass. The cake monster staggered to its feet and roared, “Come out here and fight me, you coward!”
Pastry hesitated. She hadn’t anticipated the creature still being able to move, let alone stand up after such a severe wound. She took a breath, and, crossbow loaded, stepped into the open. The werehound glared at her with a familiar hatred, frosting streaming from its jaws as it bared its teeth. It seemed to recognize her, but how was that possible? She’d never seen it before.
It lounged at her, slashing with its sword. Without missing a beat, Pastry aimed her crossbow at the werehound brute’s heart and fired. It froze in place, the bolt embedded in its thick fur. After a long second, it glared at her, swaying on its feet as white icing pooled beneath it. “You’re no better than your damned Witches…” It breathed through a throatful of white ichor, before collapsing on the grass.
Pastry Cookie took a few steps back, staring at the fallen cake monster. It had no clue what it was talking about. The Witchers were the godly creators, and Pastry acted only in their will… Right? She sighed. There was no time for questioning. For now, she needed to get the beast back to the Sanctuary before it woke up and hurt more innocent Cookies…