black forest cookie · cookie run kingdom · cake bride · possessive · obsessive · witch worship · wedding dress · mysterious · lonely · transformation
The ancient pines of the dark forest stood as silent witnesses to her ruin. Clad in a wedding dress once pristine, now smeared with the mud of her desperate flight, Black Forest Cookie crumpled onto the damp moss. Her long hair, dark as chocolate frosting, spilled around her like a shattered dessert’s garnish. Her cream-colored eyes, once bright with zealous love for the Witches, were now red and swimming with tears. She had run from the Order of St. Pastry, her heart broken by the awful revelation: cookies were baked to be eaten. The devotion she’d worshipped was a fabrication, a sacrifice blessed by the very Church she served. Alone in the deepening shadows, the Cake Bride wept, her souljam quivering with betrayal and a hollow, aching loneliness.