Writing Practice

29

White mask after white mask walked the halls. Some were carrying boxes with fake models of the soul jams. None of then showed their face besides the ones who smiled and spoke lie after lie to the poor souls begging for a mere coin. The halls were dark and gloomy, with few decorations up put up since it was so dark. This was the place Strawberry cc had become used to. The masked cookies would force her into suits. Force tube after tube onto her. Tubes full of something that made her attempts to fight back useless. Something that weakened on her. They put her on a few months ago when she started to fight back. The tests hurt. They left horrible scars. No one cared, no one listened to her pleas. She was just a copy. A copy of someone who wasn't even perfect. She had their DNA, all their ingredients, yet she still didn't have the same flavor. His flavor didn't have strawberry. Her flavor did. He wasn't covered in scars. She was. She was just his copy, a useless failed copy so useless they were going to get rid of her. Her cell walls were full of her drawings. Her cards.

A woman slowly being crushed under the stress and pain, ran over by a train into a mushy pile of flesh with only the sun shining onto her still sparkly sleeves. Her face was even worse than her body snd bloodied clothes but Strawberry cc knew exactly who the women was.

She didn't know the woman's name, just that she visited a lot. Yet, she constantly fought with the one that kept her in this cell.

A woman with church bells behind her, holding a soul jam in her hand as she smiled with pure evil intentions. Behind her was another woman that had her braid but the woman who visited facial feature's. The knife was in that woman's hand, face fill with anger.

She didn't know who the other woman that held the bloodied knife was, but that drawing gave her some little bit of peace.

A person, who she assumed as another clone, stood in a hallway with spikes impaling many white masks in front and behind her. Her eyes wide with fear as she stared at some of the corpses behind her. The only ones not impaled were two that also seemed to be clones.

That card also gave her some peace. Some happiness at the thought of the white mask cookies being impaled. Watching the blood splatter and smear everywhere. She loved the thought, especially when she thought of what their screams would sound like.

She smiled, looking at the cards on her table as candles lit the tent. Candles poor souls that were now trapped in the tent would forever hold. Strawberry cc never missed those days when the cards were all that kept her from killing everyone. She never missed the days tied up to tubes and tested on, days that left scars she could never remove.

"Well well well... I didn't expect this from you Strawberry clotted cream" A voice spoke with a sly tone, one she knew all too well.

She almost jolted upon hearing that voice, the voice of the woman she hated the most. Elder Millie-feuille. She scowled as she looked up at her so called creator, not moving from her seat as much as she wanted to.

"What do you want?"

Millie-feuille sat down in front of her creation with a sly evil smile, "I merely need a tarot card reading, is that so hard to do?"

Strawberry cc wasn't buying it, she didn't trust the words that came out of that evil woman's mouth. The one that manipulated and lied to those less fortunate. To those who begged and pleaded for a coin, following the demon to their own death. The cookies of the lower city didn't deserve that, they deserved so much better than a lying demon.

"Why are you here, I know you're not here for just a reading." Strawberry cc snapped

Millie-feuille continued to smile as if she was innocent, "Your telling lower city cookies about the mud shakes."

"Yes, I am. They're desperate, and I have little to offer thanks to this damned system."

"Well stop that.", and just like that Millie-feuille's so called kind smile faded, "Its not yours to manage."

"Oh look at that, the hypocrite is telling me to stop" Strawberry cc scoffed

She picked up a card and slammed it onto the table. The card showed the woman with the church bells behind her. This time there was a knife in her throat, blood dripping onto the soul jam still in the woman's hands. Millie-feuille stared at the card, realizing with horror that it was her on the card. The woman who was holding the soul jam was her.

"The hell is this?!" She snapped

"This is what happens to hypocrites like you." Strawberry cc hissed

Millie-feuille scoffed, refusing to believe that was her fate. Strawberry cc knew the cards weren't wrong however, the fate was what the card showed. Judging by how it had changed from the last time, it was closer to happening. In fact, it was right around the corner.