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In the all-encompassing nothingness, there was a spark of something. A sensation shone through the nonexistence, shimmering like a cursed stone. Perhaps it was a curse– not that there was anything to be done. The fate it held had begun to unfold long, long before the thing ever found itself reaching for it.
Heat.
Heat, that was the first thing to break through the numbness, that something which had pierced through the cold. The sensation was seemingly comforting and nurturing at first, warmth wrapping around the tiny spark of life like a blanket holding it tight. It could feel the heat all around itself, getting warmer and warmer…
Alas, this sense of bliss was sinister and short-lived. The warmth slowly morphed into something unbearably hot, its hold strangling the poor thing as it began to burn. This wasn’t comforting anymore– this wasn’t comforting at all.
A searing pain blossomed across its back, hot air scorching everything else. The now-living creature’s chest expanded, taking a sharp breath before choking and wheezing in disgust. There was a terrible taste in the back of its throat, akin to burnt food.
It could feel something resting in its hand, but couldn’t find the strength to hold it. Everything was scary and unfamiliar, like it had been thrust into the cockpit of a plane and told it already knew the controls. It couldn’t tell what it was moving, what hurt, or why. It didn’t even know what it was. The poor, tiny thing could feel panic and confusion rising in its chest.
Vision began to materialize in its already-opened eyes but all it revealed was a blinding orange glare, so it immediately clamped its eyes shut. It already wanted nothing but to get away from whatever this was, this burning pain, but it couldn’t move. Its back was stuck to the scalding metal surface beneath it, unable to pull away even as it struggled. Smoke was all that filled its lungs, choking it as it tried to breathe. The air itself burned the thing’s chest from the inside out. It frantically tried to break away. It had to survive, it had to get up, it had to.
Its hand wrapped around the thing it held, and it winced as the back of its hand throbbed with a new stinging sensation. The still-baking dessert took as deep a breath as it could through the smoke, and roughly tore its arm away from the surface.
It let out a small, sharp cry at the pain– little crumbs of its arm had been ripped off, left behind on the metal. Its arm was sore and stiff, shaking from the agony. The limb felt like it would crack into pieces and fall off if it kept moving. Still, it had to get up, something deep inside its chest was screaming at it to get up. Fear and panic swirled in its dough as it painstakingly pried its other arm off the surface. Tears welled up in the corners of its eyes. Its breathing quickened. It desperately didn’t want to be stuck on the ground, unable to move as it burned to death.
Slowly and agonizingly, with gritted teeth, it pulled the rest of its body from the burning metal. Everything was hot and painful, and the scalding air swirled all around the tiny creature. It groaned, trying not to scream. Through all the strain and movement, it was beginning to form an idea of what its body was shaped like.
Out of all the parts of their body, its head was the least willing to separate from the ground. It contorted its body, twisting and trying to wrench it off the floor without snapping it clean off its body. Its dough cried out at every movement, aches stabbing through its body.
What if it couldn’t escape, and just died here? It didn’t wanna die like this! The poor thing was terrified, struggling alone on the floor.
With one last twist, they finally pulled their head free and rolled onto their side with a gasp, letting themself fall back to the ground. Their head pounded and their ears rang. The suffering hardly subsided now that they were free; if anything, it was worse. Their fresh dough ached all over, deep pains shooting throughout it. The backs of their arms and legs (and presumably the rest of their body) was charred black. This body felt foreign and unfamiliar; their very dough was hardly cooperating, almost like it was never meant to move in the first place.
Maybe it wasn’t.
Still choking through the acrid smoke, the shaking cookie grasped the object in their hand and propped themself up on their elbows. There was no time to lay on the floor and pity themself. This strange space was so hot, the poor child felt they were being cooked alive in here. Beads of sweat rolled down their face, their dough burning more with every second.
They tilted their head up, getting a full view of the space. Angry reds and oranges danced on the walls, in every direction they could look without turning around. Fire, fire, blinding light and heat everywhere. The flames seemed alive, alive and hungry, like they would devour anything that dared venture too close.
Once again, panic began to strangle them. Their instincts told them to run, run, get away from the fire as fast as they could! Unfortunately, they had no idea where to run, did they?
Fighting for air, they glanced downwards to see what was around them on the floor. There had to be an exit somewhere, or at least something that could help–
The tiny cookie’s face blanched. They nearly choked.
It was awful, the scene a mess of butchery and death. Bodies, so many bodies and crumbs littered the ground. Crushed chunks of dough, burnt red splatters and puddles, broken lollipops and candy canes, unidentifiable pieces of char. Cookies, just like themself, lay burnt, mangled, and unmoving on the ground. Some were crushed to pieces, others so charred it was a wonder they weren’t. Their half-melted icing and disfigured faces stared wide-eyed at the brick ceiling, wearing a hollow smile that betrayed no spark of life within. Some of them didn’t even have faces, and there was no way of telling if they ever had in the first place.
The child drew backwards, letting out a scream of horror. Their trembling hand flew to their mouth as the stomach-churning massacre before them burned into their wide, teary eyes. The other cookies… Why were they– how come– were they–
No. No, no, no, they couldn’t be the sole survivor, they couldn’t. They– some of them had to be alive, right? There were a few that were still in one piece! Their mind spiralled as their breathing faltered for a moment, hands trembling. They weren’t dead, they weren’t, they weren’t. There was still time; some of them could be saved! He just needed to be brave. He had already woken up, he could- no, he HAD to wake the others. He was the first, so he needed to help the rest. No one else was coming, no one else could.
He shook his head and scrambled over to the nearest cookie as quickly as he was able. They would be fine, he just needed to save them in time. The metal tray singed his knees and hands, and he grimaced in pain. It hurt so much.
He leaned over the small form on the pan and quickly glanced over their body, hoping with bated breath and shaking hands that they were still somewhat intact. The moment he saw that they were, he grabbed their arm and shook it as hard as he could.
The cookie stayed stiff and unmoving.
“Hey, wake up!”, he yelled as shook them by their shoulders. He was choking on his words through the suffocating smoke. “C’mon, you gotta get up!”
But they didn’t move.
“Hello? Can you hear me? You’ll- you’re gonna wake up, right?” he asked with a trembling voice. A horrible, sinking feeling filled his chest. He stared down at the unmoving body, terrified that the worst was true. They had to be alive, they had to.
“Mm… wanna sleep more…”, came a whisper from the limp cookie. They closed their little already-opened eyes, stirring slightly. The larger cookie’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. They were alive! He wasn’t the only one in this fiery hell, he– he could save the others!
“Nonono, don’t go back to sleep!” he exclaimed. He grabbed the smaller child under his arms and began to pull their dough off of the metal, hardly pausing to think. “Listen, we need to get out of here, now!”
“Ouchh- That hurts, what’s going on?!” He squirmed in the other cookie’s grasp, beginning to wail.
“We’re gonna crumble if we stay, we gotta find an exit!”
The two of them fell backwards, landing on top of one another. The smaller one in the blue nightcap finally got a full view of the flames and slaughter around them. He was shocked into silence by the scene, but only for a moment. The child's horrified screams rang throughout the enclosed space as soon as he realized what he was looking at.
He grabbed onto his brother in fright, pressing his head against his chest to escape from the surrounding carnage. The taller cookie held him tightly, scared as well and not sure what to do. In his haste to wake them up, he had completely forgotten that the other cookies would be shocked as well; what a fool he was. He covered the poor boy’s eyes, wishing to spare him from witnessing any more than he already had seen.
“What’s happening?! Where– those cookies, what–“, the tinier cookie’s words melted into terrified sobs.
“I–”, his brother stammered, trying to sound reassuring. “I don’t know, but I promise I’ll get us out of here as soon as I can, don’t worry!”
As he was speaking, a groan came from behind the two of them. The panicked cookie immediately swung around to see what it was. His vision faded for a moment as he did so and he was nearly brought to the floor, but there was no time to worry about that.
There, on the tray, a third cookie was waking. They had already managed to mostly free their body from the metal, but their head refused to move.
“Is there someone over there?!”, the cookie yelled through painful-sounding coughs, “HELP! I’m stuck!”
After a brief moment of shock, the brave child was able to call out an answer.
“Y-yeah! Don’t worry, I’ll help you!”
Still holding onto his distraught brother and covering his eyes, he crawled over to them. He disregarded how his body shook and screamed for air, his mind too caught up in the disbelief and amazement that another cookie had woken up all by themself.
“Here, I can get you off the tray, just hold still!”, he commanded. He grabbed the back of her head, trying to pry her dough away without snapping her head off. Melted chocolate from her hair got all over his hands, but he hardly noticed.
Finally, with one last tug, his sister’s head was freed, and she fell to her side. He backed up a little, giving her space and mentally bracing for the reaction he knew was coming.
She briefly made eye contact with him, and opened her mouth to say something before her gaze shifted to the scene around them. Her face paled and froze, just as the other two’s had.
She screamed, pulling backwards and covering her mouth as if she was about to puke. Her twin brother looked with her, though the youngest cookie kept his eyes shut. He’d seen enough to know that he never wanted to open them again.
The fire had gotten even brighter, spreading to the mangled bodies of the other cookies at terrifying speed. From the looks of it, they were too late to save the rest of them, and soon enough they too would share their fate. The scared child’s heart twisted, refusing to accept it. He was too late. The two children stared, horrified, at all the crumbs that would have been their siblings.
“Oh god, what– where are we?! Why is–” her words spluttered to a stop, smothered by her own coughing and wheezing.
The smoke was suffocating, making the inside of their bodies hurt with every breath. They couldn’t breathe. It was getting worse by the second, and the boy that had been exposed the longest was all the worse off for it. The flames were getting closer, the heat so overpowering it made his vision go all fuzzy. He did his best to disregard how his body shook and cried for air, how the burning pain in his limbs made it hard to move them. The ground hurt so much they could hardly bear to touch it, and the heat was making each and every one of them nauseous.
“The others,” he gasped, stumbling forward as his voice wavered, “There’s still time, there’s gotta be..!”
“Huh?” She was still without proper bearings, but even she could tell this cookie was hopelessly grasping at a lost cause. “No, you-”
“We still need to, they, we gotta wake them up! I don't… we- I can’t leave them!” His voice cracked, and even as the words tumbled from his mouth, he knew there was no use. What laid before him weren’t cookies anymore; no, they were nothing but nauseating, mutilated corpses.
“You have to leave them! The rest of us need to get out while there’s still time!”
He looked back. His little brother had tears rolling down his face, and had resorted to covering his eyes himself so he wouldn’t have to see any of this. His twin sister was doubled over on the ground, wheezing and coughing through the smoke as she tried to pull him back to them. She was right, he knew she was. There was no saving the rest of their siblings; their fate had already been sealed. And if he couldn’t at least get these two out alive, theirs would be too.
Weakly, he leaned on his candy cane as he tried to figure out how to get his legs to stand. A sharp stinging shot through his dough. His body really wasn't supposed to be moving. Every motion felt foreign and unfamiliar. The child nearly fell over, his legs weak and wobbly. His filling felt like it was boiling, trying to kill him from the inside out. This was awful; he hated how every movement induced the distressing and almost disgusting sensation that something in his body was about to snap. The whole world was spinning, and he felt sick from the smothering heat.
Nevertheless, as soon as he was upright, he moved to help his family up. The tiny cookie in the blue hat took his hand and wobbled upright, still on the brink of full-on sobbing. His sister used her own lollipop as a support. As she looked up, something behind the two of them caught her eye.
“Look!”, she cried, pointing, “That door– could we escape through there?”
Holding their brother’s hand, he turned around. Squinting, he saw two huge, imposing doors glowing with the reflected light of the inferno. A fiery chasm blazed between the doors and tray. Carvings and inscriptions littered the metal, but his eyes lingered instead on a large skull engraving, glaring at them directly from the center. It just… it looked so angry, like it was scornful of them for their pitiful attempt to live.
Though rickety and weathered, the iron gates nevertheless instilled a sense of fear and hopelessness into the poor cookie’s heart. That metal wall was all that stood before them and whatever freedom might await them, but it looked completely and utterly immovable; there was certainly no way the weak cookie could break those doors.
The despairing child looked back at the two other survivors with tears in his eyes. The spreading fire was quickly closing in on them all. Had he truly woken them up just to suffer a horrible, fiery death? All because he couldn’t follow through and free them?
No. He would have to try.
He stepped past the two of them, ignoring the sound of char crunching underfoot. “Here,” he said, trying to hide the shaking of his voice, “I’ll, I can… I’ll get us out of here!”
The tray singed the bottom of his feet as he stumbled forward, his steps almost like that of a baby deer. His head felt foggy, and his heart was beating so fast he felt sick.
Leaning forward carefully so as not to fall into the fire, he shoved the end of his candy cane in between the doors, trying to pry them open from across the gap. His jaw clenched as the flames crackled just centimeters from his face. Just when he thought he might be getting somewhere–
The end of his candy cane snapped off.
If it hadn’t been for his little brother rushing forward and pulling him back, he would have fallen into the flames and been burnt to ashes right then and there.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?! You’re not hurt, right? ‘Cuz I thought you were gonna fall in and I- I thought you were gonna die!!”, the child wailed hysterically, hugging his trembling brother like he might fall apart at any moment.
The candy cane wasn’t fully broken, just shorter and sharper on the end, but he realized with sinking helplessness that his idea wouldn’t work. He stepped back from the doors, coughing from the smoke that had been slowly suffocating him ever since he first came to life. His chest ached, his head clouded and too jumbled to think. The inferno was growing louder, the heat more intense, and now? There was no time left. The rest of their lives could be measured in just seconds.
He looked around. His brother’s face was running with tears and icing, the heat beginning to melt his very face off as he still struggled to understand what was happening. His sister was staring emptily at the doors, surrendering to her own fate and trying to mentally block out what would probably be her last moments. It was so unbearably hot here, but he felt cold with powerlessness as tears streaked down his face. He saw the mangled faces of the other cookies, their bodies in a state that made his stomach churn, all broken and torn apart. He didn’t know why he kept looking at them. And the fire, the fire, the fire.
They were dying. They were dying in here. This hell had caught them in its grasp and wouldn’t let them go until it had choked every last piece of life from their bodies. He wondered faintly why they had even ended up here in the first place; what could they have possibly done to deserve this?
The scared cookie was in agony, horrible sharp pains tormenting his dough. His face stung and was filled with tears, his throat tight from crying. He fought against the urge to just succumb to his fate, to let it be over before he made it worse for himself and everybody else. He couldn’t do that. He had to get the others out.
He looked back at the gap and the gates of iron, trying to draw an idea from his distraught mind. Something, anything!
He took a few steps backwards, breathing heavily. He would only have one shot at this.
He grabbed his candy cane with both hands to still his shaking arms, his heart beating so fast he felt he might vomit. He couldn’t afford to get scared now, this was his only option. He didn’t have time to just stand there, hypnotized with fear and hoping that courage would eventually come; he had to do it.
Without warning, the brave cookie took off running across the tray in a last-ditch attempt at freedom. He sprinted to the edge and threw himself shoulder-first into the very center of the metal doors.
The impact was just enough to slam the doors open, the rusty hinges giving way as his dough rang with disorienting pain. His vision whirled as he plummeted to the floor, now in unknown territory. He fell, and fell, and fell…
The ground hit him hard, knocking the little remaining air from his lungs. Stars exploded across his sight, his consciousness wavering and nearly slipping from his grasp. His body felt like it had been hit by a truck twice over, and his ears were ringing so loudly it drowned every sound.
There was a long, strange stillness.
It took him a moment to realize what had even happened. The air here was cold and clear and devoid of the scent of burnt cookies. The absence of the blistering heat was a shock to his dough, as was the unfamiliar material of the floor, but oh how it was a welcome one. Gratefully, he filled his lungs with air. Had he… had he really done it? Had they escaped?
“Urgh…”, he groaned in pain. Feebly, he rubbed his head. His dough still burnt and ached, weak and nearly immovable from the beating it had undergone. He could barely move his arm. “How high was...?”
“Aaaaaggh!!”, a little voice screamed, quickly growing louder. The cookie looked up just in time to see a blur of brown dough falling towards his face.
“Hgk–”, his brother crashed into his already-battered body, knocking the wind out of him once more. Soon after he heard the thud of his sister landing nearby, but he could hardly register it as darkness spread across his vision. The agony began receding into numbness, his dough giving up without him having any say in the matter. The whole ordeal certainly had a toll to take on him, it seemed, as his eyes slipped closed.