Hmm. . . A Little Breezy
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
An earsplitting scream pierced through the morning silence in the Candy Kingdom. From the castle, particularly the infirmary, (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse. A lot of questions started to arise inside her mind, she was starting to expect her skull to implode.
Questions like, Where the heck am I? or How did I get here? and most especially Why am I not wearing a single article of clothing?
(Y/N) started to panic even more when the last question registered in her mind. It felt a little breezy in the downstairs area, and her bare feet felt the slightly sticky floor. She thought she might have sent a little Huang Ho to the floor, but it she prayed not. But if it did happen, well, another faux-pax joins the family.
She heard light and heavy footsteps coming towards the door. Oh, joy.
(Y/N) backed up slowly against the corner in the wall, silently praying they wouldn't get upset about the broken bed or move in with roaring chainsaws in their grasps.
The door finally slammed open and a bunch of short, stubby people wearing white clothes came in, a panicked look in their sugary faces.
Wait. Sugary?
She blinked her eyes hard, hoping she wasn't hallucinating. Maybe they were just wearing sugar-coated mascot costumes, though that thought was ridiculously stupid. But did these psychos just dope her or what?
"G-g-g," she tried to say 'Go away!', but it came out as garbling. Great. A garbling teenaged-girl wearing a bed sheet.
The taller one, the one who had ice cream for a head looked more concerned than panicked. She. . . or it(he, whatever), carefully walked closer to her.
"Miss, please calm down," it said in a masculine voice.
He's male, alright. (Y/N) thought.
She tried to speak words, but her mouth felt incredibly dry. Her head started to spin again and spots danced before her eyes.
Her knees turned to jelly and they buckled. The ice cream guy held her. Along with the short square one.
"Quickly," the ice cream man told the shorty. "Call the prince!"
(Y/N) started to hyperventilate. Surely she was hallucinating. All of this, the place and things she woke up to today, was just some odd dream or a joke the terrorists cooked up. But would you call a dream about ice cream mascots normal? No. The joking seemed believable compared to that.
She let out a hysterical half-gasp, half-laugh. Her arms, knees shook so badly that she fell into the arms of the mascot. Accidentally, she touched his face. Unfortunately, her hand couldn't process what she just touched.
She karate-chopped his head. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't feel like sticking your hand through one humongous scoop of yummy soft serve. But this, this was just wrong.
A chunk of the ice cream man's head fell to the floor. He let out a shrill scream, (Y/N) didn't know if it was out of pain or shock. Probably both.
She heartily retched as she heard the door slam open.
"This way, Prince!" she heard a female voice say.
Then she saw him. He was in a lab coat, his face tight with concern and focus. He wore laboratory glasses, a maroon waistcoat, that ultimate waiter look, but he pulled it off anyway. His dazzling blue eyes were just gorgeous.
Then (Y/N) started to notice things about him. His skin had a weird pinkish tinge. His hair was darker pink. Hmm, does spray paint get this far? Otherwise, he looks like a very good-looking college age guy minus the pink everything.
