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He could feel his jam boiling. First, he was hit by a literal AIRSHIP that PURE VANILLA COOKIE flew into him, then he was blown away by that stupid green bean, and then had to fight a dragon. Now, he doesn’t know where his other half is.
Shadow Milk Cookie growled, flying over the battlefield. He narrowed his eyes, seeing Silent Salt Cookie waiting patiently with his knights and horse. The jester grinned, deciding to say hello. He flew down, landing in front of the Beast of Silence.
“Salty! I take you haven’t seen that quarter soul yet, right? Such a drab. I was hoping to see you in action sooner.” Shadow Milk mused, floating around Silent Salt. “I am merely following orders. You should have done the same.” Shadow Milk scoffed, coming to a stop in front of the fallen knight.
“I don’t follow anyone’s orders. Not anymore.” He said, turning his back to the other beast. He didn’t hear the sword being lifted up behind him. The jester turned, his eyes flicking to the danger before crying out in pain as the blade was shoved straight through his gut.
His magic failed, forcing his weight onto the blade holding him up. He winced, looking up at the cookie in front of him. “Why…” He whispered. “It’s easier to be rid of one nuisance than all four at once. It’s time you crumbled. Judgement of Silence!”
Shadow Milk went limp, sliding off the sword and flopping to the ground. Silent Salt mounted Nox Black Salt and left with his knights in tow, leaving the blue cookie bleed out. There he lay in a puddle of blue jam, frustrated.
He was stuck in his own mind and in pain. How irritating. He opened his eyes and looked around at the gray box his conscious now sat in. He groaned, frustrated that he hadn’t seen it coming.
“Oh Fount of Knowledge!” Shadow Milk flinched hard, whipping around to see a cookie with their eyes distorted. Suddenly, everything felt to be too much. The pain in his gut, the feeling of jam oozing out, the tightness of his clothes, even the cold sensation of his Soul Jam.
“Oh Fount of Knowledge! Why were we created? Why did the witches bake us?” The cookie said, walking towards the jester. “No… not again.” Shadow Milk backed away, arms pressed against his abdomen. “Fount of Knowledge! Why does this world exist? What’s its purpose?” Another cookie appeared, cornering Shadow Milk.
“Fount of Knowledge! You don’t know anything. So why are you the Fount of Knowledge?” Another cookie. More kept appearing until the room was almost entirely full, leaving Shadow Milk pressed into the corner. He slid down the wall, leaving a large stain of blue jam in his wake. He curled up in a ball, shaking his head and panting.
“AAAAAAGHH. SILENCE. SHUT UP. PLEASE.” Shadow Milk cried, feeling his eyes prick. The nameless cookies kept approaching until they were pressing in entirely on his body, restricting him from even breathing. He gasps for air, feeling hot tears stream down his flushed cheeks.
It was too much. Everything was too much. The ringing of voices turned into one cacophony of noise, sending sharp waves of pain through his head like a metal spike. He tried to cry out, but no sound exited. He could feel his consciousness slipping from the asphyxiation.
Shadow Milk felt panic as he fought to stay awake. A part of him almost welcomed it though. Wanting to sleep and forget about everything. He yearned for it after almost a millennia of refusing sleep.
Just as the darkness closed in around him like an old friend, a bright and warm golden light seeped in, swallowing his vision. He gasped as he was wrenched back into reality.
Shadow Milks eyes shot open as he gasped for air. The first thing he saw was white robes embroidered with gold silk. He groaned and leaned into the warmth that the cookie holding him had.
Wait.
Cookie holding him?
White robes?
Warmth?
Shadow Milk growled, immediately squirming. He knew who this was, and he wasn’t going to let any form of understanding happen. He thrashed, trying his best to ignore the pain and feeling of his own jam pouring out of him.
“Shadow Milk Cookie! Please, stop! You’re only hurting yourself further!” Pure Vanilla Cookie begged, easily restraining the blue cookie and keeping him still. The jester hissed, shooting his most venomous glare up at the healer.
“Let me go you worm!” Shadow Milk growled, trying to thrash once more. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help!” He continued to thrash, kicking his legs and trying to pull his arms out of the firm grip Pure Vanilla had on his wrists, keeping them suspended in the air in front of him.
Shadow Milk rolled off of Pure Vanilla’s lap, landing on the hard ground with a sharp cry of pain. His vision spun as he slowly lifted himself up off the ground into a kneeling position on all fours. He panted, sweat running down his face as pain shot through all his body from the gaping hole in his gut.
He knew moving was a horrible idea, but quite frankly, he couldn’t care less. All Shadow Milk wanted was to get as far away from this place as possible. Maybe sleep for a millennia. That sounded nice. Or he could just die. That wouldn’t be so bad either. It would probably be for the better as well. Everyone would get their wish of wanting him dead, and he would finally be able to stop having those cursed hallucinations and memories about his past.
“Shadow Milk, no!” He was startled out of his thoughts, shifting his gaze from the ground to the vanilla cookie next to him. “Don’t say that! Death isn’t a nice thing! It never will be!” Fudge. He had said that out loud, hadn’t he. “Yes, you did. And you did again just now.” Shadow Milk groaned, curling in on himself and letting his forehead lay against the ground.
The jester side eyed the healer, noting the blue jam staining his pristine robes, the tangles in his long hair, and the small scratches and cuts covering his dough. He looked terrible to say the least. “You look horrible.” Shadow Milk rasped out.
Pure Vanilla smiled softly. “And you look like you got hit by fifty airships.” Shadow Milk rolled his eyes, huffing. “The first airship was your fault. This ‘second’ airship was someone else.” He said, wincing again as a fresh wave of pain began to worm its way up his chest and down his legs.
“What did happen anyway? We were continuing our journey on and came across you bleeding out behind some boulders. You were unconscious, and looked quite distressed. You also mumbled a few times. Something about telling someone to stop.”
Shadow Milk tensed, his protective barriers immediately snapping back up. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Shadow Milk mumbled, gritting his teeth. “Shadow Milk please. I need to know what happened.”
He groaned, lowering himself fully onto the ground and curling onto a loaf with his cheek pressed against the rough dirt. “I… got stabbed.” Shadow Milk said weakly, letting his eyes slip shut. The dizziness had hit a new level. Everything was spinning in a way he had never experienced before.
His head was heavy with pain, yet light at the same time. He hissed as tinnitus began to ring in his ears, making the stabbing headache worse. Shadow Milk blearily opened his eyes, seeing the blurry shape of Pure Vanilla Cookie leaning over him.
The healer was saying something, but Shadow Milk was too tired to try to decipher it. He shifted his head slightly, curling up tighter into a ball as he lay on his side. Faintly, Shadow Milk wondered how he had ended up on his side, but he brushed the thought aside.
He lay there panting for a bit, trying to get as much oxygen as he could into his tight lungs. After a few moments, the loud ringing started to fade, allowing him to hear again.
“Shadow Milk! Stay with me!” He could feel pressure being applied to his torso and something stuffed into the gaping hole. Stopping the bleeding. Smart. He looked up, staring at Pure Vanilla with cloudy eyes.
The shepherds robe was torn, a chunk of the bottom missing. Shadow Milk slowly shifted his gaze down to the now packed wound, seeing the fine white and gold silk from Pure Vanilla’s robes soaked in his own blue jam. He blinked, turning back to Pure Vanilla.
“Why… are you saving… me?” He asked, his voice hitching from the pain. “Because I care about you, Shadow Milk Cookie.” The jester blinked. A small giggle exited his mouth. Then another. He chuckled breathlessly, his outburst turning into a wheezing and wet coughing fit. He lay there gasping for air for a few seconds before finally looking up at his other half.
“Cut the cake, Pure Vanilla Cookie. Anyone who has ever said that has had an ulterior motive, unless it’s Candy Apple and Black Sapphire.” Shadow Milk sighed, allowing his tense body to relax slightly. He looked up at the vanilla cookie before noticing a few other figures standing behind the healer.
There Dark Cacao Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, and their lackeys stood, watching the scene unfold. Shadow Milk Cookie went limp, feeling a few tears slip out and down his face. He didn’t deserve any love. He didn’t deserve this life. The amount of cookies he had hurt, the amount of pain and suffering he has caused, the amount of hate and anger he has stirred up is beyond comprehension.
He’s no beast. He’s a monster.
Shadow Milk Cookie let his eyes slip shut as he curled up further, ignoring the pain in his abdomen. He felt someone’s warm arms gingerly lift him up off the ground with a type of care he never knew, and set him down onto another cookies lap. He let it happen, as fighting was worthless at this point.
Why fight, when there is no more to fight for? Why try, when all you get is hate and suffering? Why live, when all you feel is pain?
Shadow Milk thought over those questions coming to the conclusion that there was no right or wrong answer for them. There were two main ones. One being that to keep fighting was to be strong, while the other was to give up and finally rest.
He opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. Slowly, Shadow Milk scanned his surroundings absentmindedly, taking in the fact that all of the hero’s were conversing and that he was in Pure Vanillas warm embrace. He felt small. Very small. And not in the usual bad way. In a way where he was safe for once. Truly safe.
He felt… okay, for once.
A loud, gut wrenching sob ripped its way out of Shadow Milks throat as a fresh batch of large hot tears streamed down his already soaked face. He cried without any hesitation. He didn’t hold back. He just let himself cry for once. Because never before had he felt what it was like to be held and comforted. Because never before was he given any form of affection and care by another.
He loved it. The feeling of finally being cared for. He loved it as much as he hated it. He was weak enough to need someone to care for him, but he couldn’t help but feel the relief that he didn’t have to keep up his act.
Shadow Milk could finally let the mask drop. He was free.