Till death do us part.

VII.

READ BEFORE CONTINUING!

This chapter contains:
Kissing
Making out
NSFW (basically sex)
Cookies getting drunk
Mentions of blood

⚠️Read at your risk⚠️
🙂
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In the clandestine corridors of Raspberry's mind, a sinister orchestration unfolded. Bitterness and jealousy were the architects of her malevolent design against Wildberry, weaving a tapestry of revenge threaded with the darkest intentions. Each meticulous step of her plan was fueled by a relentless desire to inflict maximum suffering upon the unsuspecting cookie who had wronged her.

As Raspberry brooded in the shadows, her thoughts became a tempest of resentment. The memories of Wildberry effortlessly replacing her friend, her confidant, and her ally gnawed at her core. It felt unjust, an affront to the very essence of fairness. Her hunch was more than a suspicion; it was an unspoken oath to make Wildberry pay for the perceived injustice.

Meanwhile, within the lively inn, a cacophony of laughter and joy resonated. Unbeknownst to the revelers, the celebration danced on the precipice of Raspberry's malevolence. The air, thick with mirth, was oblivious to the intricate web being woven in the shadows.

Determined to unveil Wildberry's whereabouts, Raspberry confronted Crunchy Chip. Her interrogative glare demanded answers, yet Crunchy Chip, playing the part masterfully, spun a tale of Wildberry's distant expedition to a cookie kingdom. The fictional narrative hung in the air, tantalizing Raspberry's doubts.

Raspberry's fury erupted like a volcano, accusing the innocent cookies around her of collusion. Strawberry Crepe and Financier, caught in the crossfire, attempted to placate her with berry juice and feigned innocence. The inn's occupants, oblivious to the looming darkness, watched the drama unfold with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

As Raspberry's accusations intensified, she pointed an accusatory finger at Financier, questioning their presence with a fiery gaze. The inn's atmosphere shifted, tension mounting amidst the unsuspecting crowd. Raspberry's departure, fueled by indignation, was a strategic maneuver, leaving behind a bewildered audience unknowingly poised on the edge of a precipice.

Within the inn's walls, the revelation of the prank elicited uproarious laughter. Wildberry, emerging from the counter, joined the joviality, and the berry juice became the centerpiece of their jokes. His reluctant sips, grimaces, and eventual demand for more added a layer of comedic relief to the unsuspecting celebration.

Amidst the laughter and camaraderie, Raspberry's sinister grin lingered in the shadows, a harbinger of the impending storm. The stark contrast between the oblivious merriment and the unfolding darkness created a tension palpable in the air, a delicate balance on the brink of disruption, unbeknownst to those immersed in the joyous revelry.

"How did I get here again?" Wildberry said to himself drunkenly. "Hey hey. I think that's enough drinks. Come, let's go to my room. Guys, help me out?" The cookies helped Wildberry to Crunchy Chip's room. Crunchy Chip thanked them, and locked the door behind him.

As the hands of the clock inched closer to the midnight hour, Crunchy Chip took charge of guiding Wildberry toward the realm of slumber. Wildberry, however, offered grunts of protest, his resistance echoing in the quiet room until he finally succumbed, surrendering to the plush allure of the bed.

"Sleep is for the tired," Wildberry protested, his words slurring slightly, a hint of rebellion lingering in the air. Crunchy Chip, the conscientious custodian of sobriety in this late-night tableau, couldn't help but sigh in response. "You've had one too many shots; we ought to have chosen a more prudent path," he bemoaned, a tone of regret evident in his voice.