Chapter Text
The cookie sat there, twiddling her thumbs as she was questioned. Her shredded dress and torn veil made her look like she had just lost a fight with a rabid cake monster. Almond did his best to question the lilac-haired cookie without frightening her.
“So…” he said, setting his coffee down on the table. “Tell me what happened with this whole Order ordeal.”
She stared at the ground, trembling. She nodded, before shakily telling her story.
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She had just returned from the tower. The world was spinning quicker than she could wrap her head around, and she practically stumbled back into the order’s base. Tripping right in the doorway, many of the sisters crowded her, asking if she was okay. Failing to respond, they parted, letting Reverend get to the front.
Reverend said something, but Pastry did not hear her. She could see her mouth move as her vision began to fade, black clouding the corners of her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she passed out, lying on the floor of the Order’s front gate.
***************************************
She woke up back in her bed, with Reverend across the room in a chair. “I see you’re awake now,” she said calmly, watching Pastry look around the room, confused.
“Did…you take me back here?” she asked.
Reverend smiled. “With a bit of help, but yes. You collapsed almost the minute you got here.”
“Oh,” she said. Her head was still pounding, and it felt like it was about to explode. She failed to remember what had happened, only remembering falling back into the order’s doors and passing out that Reverend had just mentioned.
Silence filled the room, and Pastry fiddled with the cotton white blanket that was draped over her. Then, out of nowhere, Reverend asked, “What happened in the pantry?”
“The pantry,” Pastry repeated, staring off into space. Suddenly, it all came back to her. Cake monsters. Red Velvet. Witches. The witches are eating the cookies. White Lily. She fell. White Lily is no more. Only Darkness remains.
She yelled out in pain, grabbing her head. The memories burned in her head more than any flame had ever burned her dough. “No, no, no, not the pantry. Anything but there!”
Reverend did nothing to calm her. “What happened there, Pastry?” she repeated, showing no signs of sympathy in her voice.
With tears still streaming down her face, she started to choke out the words. “The witches… were… eating,” she couldn’t finish her sentence. Her throat burned, and it hurt to talk.
“Stop crying, my child,” Reverend said. “Tell me, what were the witches eating?”
Pastry wiped the tears from her face. Stop crying, stop crying. With a deep inhale, she said, “Cookies. They were eating cookies.” Pastry bowed her head, waiting for the answer from the Reverend. A form of consolation, shock, anything. Instead, Pastry was the one who ended up in shock.
“And?” Reverend stood up and turned away from Pastry. Messing with the things on Pastry’s dresser, she picked up a feather from the currently molting bird that brought Pastry her assignments.
Pastry, swallowing hard, croaked out, “What do you mean ‘and’? Our creators only made us to kill us for their own enjoyment! Are you not concerned at all?!”
Pastry looked back at Pastry, and a chill went down her spine. The look on Reverend’s face was wildly out of character. Despite her usual smile, it instead threatened Pastry instead of comforting her. “Oh Pastry,” she said soothingly, approaching Pastry and putting her hands comfortingly on Pastry’s face. “Have you never, ever questioned your existence? You’ve never lied awake at night wondering why you were created so sweet?”
“I-I… What are you getting at?” she choked out, wanting to tear her face away from the cold hands on her face.
The ‘comforting’ smile that had once adorned her face turned sinister, her grip tightening slightly. “My child, the pantry has been making cake monsters for years.”
Pastry’s stomach dropped, and she finally knew what Reverend was getting at. “You- you wanted me to find out! Why?! What is the point of the order if what we stand for is fake?!”
Reverend shushed her. “Come now, you don’t want the others finding out, now do you?” Pastry, as much as she wanted to retort, bit her tongue. Reverend nodded her head, and released her hands from Pastry’s face. “The order is here to protect the secrets of the pantry, so we’re the ones who have to bear the truth of the situation.”
“Why?” Pastry asked shakily. “Why have you lied, all this time? Why would you tell me the truth now?”
“Because, my child,” she said. “Any cookie in the right sense would’ve run away right away if they learned the truth.” And without another word, she sat down back in her chair.
“I-I can still leave!” Pastry replied, removing the covers from herself, and standing up. She turned to walk away, but Reverend called out to her.
“But can you? Where else can you go?”
Pastry turned around to reply, but then she realized the full extent of the situation. She’s completely right. All my life, I’ve blindly believed what she was saying, and now, I have nowhere to go. Feeling like a mouse in a snake’s grasp, she bit her quivering lip and bowed her head down.
“Ah, so that’s what I thought,” she said, her cunning mouth forming another smile. “So now, I’ll present you with two options.”
Pastry looked up. “Options?”
She laughed, “Of course! Do you really think I’m so heartless that I won’t give you a choice?” When Pastry didn’t reply, Reverend said, “You have two options, and I’ll give you until after tomorrow’s morning prayer to decide.” She pulled back the window’s curtains, revealing the setting sun. “You either can become a Shadow Sister, protecting the secret and making sure it never gets out…”
“What’s the other option?” she asked cautiously, standing by the door, hand on the handle.
“Well, if you really want to know, then you’ll find out what exactly a Shadow Sister’s role is.”
Pastry’s stomach dropped. I need to get out of here. “What- do you mean?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean.”
The only way to make sure a secret remains a secret without being sworn to secrecy is…
Death.
Without missing a beat, Reverend lightingly said, “Well, you’ve heard my part. You have until tomorrow to decide, but don’t even try to escape. Not only are there bars over your windows, there is a shadow sister right outside your door, told that if you leave…it’s on sight.” And without another word, she was gone.
Pastry, stunned and shaking, fell onto her bed. While she didn’t cry, she found it very difficult to breathe. Inside, her mind was in panic mode, racing for the answer to Reverend’s question. If I become a Shadow Sister, who knows what she’ll make me do. But if I refuse… I’ll die. No matter what, I’ll lose. Not if I can’t get out of here.
***************************************
Throughout the night she paced. As the sun disappeared from the sky and the moon shone its elegant light down onto the nearby flower field, she raced for an idea. Any way she could get out of her predicament. But alas, it was hopeless.
“If I leave through the door, I’ll die. And there’s nowhere to hide in hopes of outsmarting her. There are bars on the window that the gaps are just too narrow for me to slide through. Is my only option at this point to become a Shadow Sister?” she said quietly aloud. Flopping down in desperation in front of her window, she stared up at the twinkling stars.
Seeing the stars made her frustrated. Out there, they were free, while she was a bird in a cage. The fact that she didn’t have much of a choice made her angry, something that she didn’t feel often. Blind with anger, she foolishly punched a bar on her window. With a yelp of pain, she reeled back her hand.
But, to her surprise, the bar had moved. Carefully touching the bar with her not hurt hand, she found that it was loose. And in that moment, a spark of hope was relit inside of her. Wrapping both of her hands around the bar, she pulled.
The bar shifted again, and slowly but surely, it bent. Now able to easily remove the bar, a slightly larger gap in the bars was made. She tried to wiggle more bars, but none of the others seemed to want to move.
She sighed. “It’s not ideal, but I’m sure I might be able to get through it,” she said aloud.
The gap was small, and would be hard to get through, even for a lean person such as herself. But, as she lifted herself up and put her leg through it, she knew this was the only way out. Her lanky legs fit through fairly easily, and she managed to twist her torso to get it out, but she had much trouble with her head.
Using her freed arms, she pushed against the outside of the wall. After some pressure on her head, she managed to slip out. However, she went falling with a crash, landing in some bushes. She had forgotten that her room was on the second floor, and without her head holding her to the window, she had fallen.
Shakily, she crawled out of the bushes. Her veil got caught on the branches, effectively tearing it. But soon enough, she was out and all she had to do now was to run like hell. Without looking back, she bolted to the forest. She knew that if she got far enough in here, the Order could never find her.
In the forest, the moon’s light could no longer be seen, impairing her vision. Along the path, she ran into many obstacles. Bushes would brush up against her tights that got torn by broken branches. She tripped over several roots, and the already torn up veil ripped further. Branches whipped at her face, but she just kept running.
She ran for what felt like hours. After a while, she slowed to a walking pace, tired and in pain. Still stumbling along in the forest blindly, she started to lose hope. I escaped to avoid the death of me or other innocent cookies, but was I destined to just die in this forest?
Sitting down, she began to cry, something she didn’t do often. As the tears streamed down her face, they stung her open wounds. She rested her head on what she thought was probably a tree behind her, and she wrung her hands together.
A rustling noise could be heard from in front of her, and her barely focused eyes could see a shape move. Her stomach dropped, and she knew it had all been in vain.
They found me.
But she couldn’t give up then. Silenting her sobs, she covered her mouth with her hand. Hopefully, the Order couldn’t see her or hadn’t heard her. If I stay quiet, maybe they won’t find me. Maybe, just maybe, I can get away.
But her prayers weren’t answered, for the figure appeared right in front of her. She knew that this cookie had seen her, for they were towering right over her.
Wiping her teary eyes, she held her hands out, as if she was accepting it. “Just… make this quick.”
“What do you mean?”
The graveley voice surprised her. The Order, composed of female cookies, had no members with a voice as deep as the one she heard. She squinted her eyes to focus them a bit more, and to her surprise, it was a cookie not from the Order.
He was very tall, and he had ears that of an animal’s. A tail stuck out from behind him, and he wore a cape. He spoke again, “It’s not safe for you to be out here so late.”
Pastry stuttered, looking for the right words. “P-please, help me.”
The cookie appeared to step back in shock. He muttered, “If you need help you’ve come to the wrong cookie. I’m- I - I have to go.”
He turned away, but Pastry called out. “Please! If you don’t help me… they’ll find me!”
She could see his head turn around. “Who?” But alas, she didn’t answer him. Instead, he sighed, “I can’t take you there, but there’s a city right over there. If you just keep walking, you’ll make it without any casualties.” He helped her stand up, then pointed the way for her. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the night.
Pastry stumbled along, now a bit more wary of her surroundings. Just as the cookie had told her, a light soon came to her vision. Quickening her pace, she headed toward the light that grew bigger and brighter with every step.
Have… have I made it?
***************************************
Parfait walked down the city streets, headphones in her ears. Without all of her toppings, she was able to go on late night walks without any fans crowding her for signatures. Her favorite trail took her right beside the forest on the outskirts of Parfaedia.
Humming along to the tune, she played with her hoodie strings. The late autumn weather made the nights chilly, so she ditched the usual oversized t-shirt for a much bigger hoodie.
Soon enough, she heard a beep, and her headphones stopped playing music. Stopping and taking them out of her ears, she disappointedly looked at them. “Damn, I forgot to charge them last night.” Right as she was to tuck it back away into her hoodie pocket, she heard a huge crash. Up ahead, a very disheveled cookie laid on the concrete, appearing to have fallen out of the forest.
“Are you okay?!” she yelled, running up to the cookie. Double taking, she was in a much worse condition than she had anticipated. Her face was all scratched up, and her clothes were shredded. Now, her chin started bleeding from the impact with the concrete.
She lilac-haired cookie stood up shakily, legs trembling as if she would collapse at any minute. She stared in awe at the city lights, ignoring Parfait's concern. “I… made it!” she said, stepping forward. But, instead of walking, she collapsed.
Parfait rushed forward, and found out she was out cold. “Oh no, what to do, what to do?” she panicked. She paced for a bit, before coming up with an idea. Hoisting the other cookie up onto her shoulder, she slowly started taking her to the police station. The cookie was much taller than her, at least a foot taller, proving the task to be very difficult. “Almond,” she said aloud. “Almond will know what to do.”
***************************************
“And now we’re here?” Almond asked, closing his notepad.
Pastry nodded, rubbing her chin. While she had been asleep, someone, presumably the police, had treated all her wounds, and a bandaid covered her chin. Upon her request, she hadn’t changed clothes, and instead kept wearing the torn up ones.
“Okay,” he said. Standing up and heading to the door, he asked, “Will you wait here for a bit?”
She nodded again, and he left. Looking up at the beige ceiling, she felt a sense of relief and panic. She had made it, but what would she do now? She had nowhere to live, and if the Order had ever found her, what would they do to her? She hadn’t told Almond the secret of the Pantry, but they would think she did. Drinking water from the nearby bottle Almond had given her, she sat there in silence.
She watched the clock, and after twenty minutes, Almond came back. Behind him trailed the cookie who had found her when she stumbled out of the forest.
“I have a proposal for you, Pastry. Would you hear me out?”
Without a word, Pastry nodded again.
He sighed, “As far as we’re concerned, you have nowhere to stay right now, right?” After she agreed, he continued with., “We have two possible options. The first one would be to go to a homeless shelter for a while. It’s a helpful place, but there would be many more people, and we couldn’t guarantee full protection for you in case the Order comes for you before we catch them.”
“What’s the other option?” she asked cautiously. Feeling a sense of deja vu, she hoped the options didn’t lead to a checkmate that would force her back into a corner.
“Well, Parfait here has offered her hospitality, if you would be interested in living with her for a while,” he said, gesturing towards her.
“You could stay as long as you’d like, and my house is fairly well protected,” Parfait said gently.
Almond nodded. “There would be many benefits to going with her. The only other person there would be Parfait, and as she mentioned, it would guarantee your safety a lot better. But, this is up to you.”
Pastry sat there, contemplating her options. Looking up from the floor, she said, “I’ll stay with Parfait, at least until I’m able to find somewhere to live.”
***************************************
Pastry finished signing a file, testifying her statement and stating that she was okay with staying with Parfait until she could provide for herself. She wandered back into the lobby, and there she saw Parfait sitting in an armchair, waiting for her.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked, weakly smiling. Pastry wordlessly nodded again, and the two of them left the station. “I’m sorry, I was on a walk, so we’ll have to walk back to my place.” Parfait said, laughing just a bit.
“I’ll be fine,” Pastry replied shortly. The two of them walked down the sidewalk, Parfait slightly in front of Pastry for she was guiding the way. The bitter wind sent chills down Pastry’s exposed arms, and she grabbed them for warmth. At the station, she thought remaining in her own clothes would be for the best. But now, she regretted her decision.
Parfait must have taken notice, because she removed her large hoodie and offered it to her. “Here, you look like you need it a bit more than me.”
Pastry thanked her, and to her pleasure, it was very warm. She stuck her numb hands in the pocket, and the two of them eventually made it home. In Parfait’s apartment room, she pulled out a few extra blankets from a closet.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, finding her spare pillows. “I don’t have any clean sheets right now, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch. But tomorrow, I’ll take them to the laundromat, and then you’ll be able to sleep on the pull-out bed.”
Pastry, too tired to ask what a pull out bed was, gratefully muttered, “I’ll be fine, thank you.”
Parfait said goodnight, and turned off the lights, leaving Pastry in the dark. And within seconds, Pastry was conked out, tired from that night’s events. Snuggling into the blankets and Parfait’s oversized hoodie that she still wore, she fell asleep.