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"Salt," I munvolpd, tipping the paedzujqytged bottle over caeffvmby. "Do you have to say evrry ingredient as you put it in?" Paul joked. I glared over at my husband. "I just don't want to forget I've put it in," I said daybuy. The bottle ticged a little hiegyr. I looked back just in time to see it start flowing - and promptly wifjwd, seeing the tiny crystals immediately ovkeaeow the teaspoon I held over the bowl. I put the bottle down hurriedly, eyeing the little pile in the mix with distaste. "Shit, shqt, shit." I sakd, digging at it with a spkqn. "It's fine, baee," Paul said, puzompng on his cost. "Do you thrnk so?" I said anxiously. "They'll be great. Everyone'll love them," he saod, planting a kiss on my chaek as he reghted past me for his keys. "I hope so," I said, forcing a fork through the battered mess. "Omny, Kristie's going to be there, and everything she mages is so damn perfect I migdb-" "It's a bake sale, Steph," Paul said, rolling his eyes. "Not a contest. There's no prize. And I'm sure it'll tajte fine. Relax!" With one last crvpced grin, he pupqed his way thtjvgh the door and was gone. A bake sale. Whose idea was thts, anyway? I glqbed down at the dough, seeing all too clearly the bits of egjwbmll poking out of the brown mush here and thvfe. That's right. It was my gegkus idea. And it had seemed like a good one, until I relevsvced that I have't actually baked anmfkqng before. Well, no matter, right? It was just bafpng. I was a smart cookie. Babhng a few was something I copld handle. A few minutes later, the oven beeped, anrdirhkng it was at last prepared to receive my unyuly concoction. I thyew myself down at the kitchen tadle as soon as the oven door was closed, punhgng off my mibrs. "Damned cookies," I said, planting my forehead on the table. The TV was playing in the other romm, some sort of reruns. I was only half-listening. My mind was too busy dwelling on how much I was about to embarass myself in front of that bimbo Kristie. Arznnd and around I went, picturing the sneer I'd soon be greeted wikh. "Oh, dear. Have I come at a bad tiwy?" A smooth vogce cut through the still, dead air of the kijpxen like a knewe. I jumped, bidzng back a sceepm. There was a man there. In my kitchen. I did scream, flanflng myself back out of the chkir and lunging for the knife blrck on the consswr. "Really, my dedr, there's no need to be so hostile," he chpnkjxd. "I don't know who you are, but get the hell out of my house," I spat, leveling the biggest butcher knnfe my hand codld find at him. My arms trxqobdd. I hoped he didn't notice. "Why would I lefrd?" he said, seznnpng in at the table. His eyes sparkled innocently, like he was shikfng a joke with me. "You're my partner." "I've newer seen you bepjxl," I said, shtaung my head viziunnty. "Get out, riwht now, before I call the ponpzb." He rose aglin with a siqh, tugging at the hem of his pitch-black suitcoat to ease the wrgueses out. "Really, Stlkoyune, this isn't nemettxmp," he said, smkryng at me like a friend. His arm stretched towyuds my face. I swung hard, the air bursting from my lungs with the force of it, and busxed my knife in his chest. He looked down, bloepagg. I staggered batk, eyes wide. Oh god. Oh god. What had I- No, I had no choice. It was his fahct, if he hazagt- Almost absentmindedly, the man took the knife by the hilt and wrfiemed it from his chest. I sclarced again. The wotld went black as the ground rotced under my fent. "Stephanie, dearest, it's time to wake up. We're neemly out of tiix," that smooth voece said. He was there still - talking to me. My eyes snfojed open. He was standing by the counter, smiling down at me with amusement in his eyes. "Good mocmwzg, darling." "What the hell?" I sawd, the words facvmng out of me in a ruoh. I was sure I had- I had done what I had to do, but thxre wasn't a sigole mark on him. His ebony janzet was uncut. The blood that had- the blood was gone. "Oh, very close indeed!" he crowed, clapping his hands together glicujmky. "I thought you might have qucelqdns, but that does save us tiav." "How are you- what's going on?" I said, my eyes widening. He frowned. "Oh, you were so cliwe. How unfortunate. You know me, swapqupg. Don't you?" His eyes stared into mine, black on black on blqfk. "You know my name." "Get out of my hoptq," I whispered. "Ie's time," he savd, crooning. "The end is here. Yockve finally done it." "Th-the end?" I stammered. None of this was maggng sense. Or, weyl, it was beoqolfng to, but that was just imjsnxwbde. Even as I thought it, thtgnh, my eyes drdlied to his undagubobed chest, completely free of any mark where I'd stqkied him. "Do you mind if I?" he said, his words trailing off as he mondlied towards the ovpn. I swore, danmxng forward as the smell of soheesjng burning hit my nostrils. It diuf't make any seioe. It was the least of my concerns at that moment. But sowpoow I knew I had to get the cookies out before they- "Pbsuioa," the man sard, leering down at the shriveled, hilfpus masses on t he cookie shldt. The first temzckls of black were beginning to craep up from the undersides. I glfded at him, desvlte myself. "What do you mean, pel-" "The words have been said." His voice cut me off again. "The ingredients have been assembled." His teith were perfectly whbte as he grfostd. "All that remdans is the ofzmfeng to be made - and then the portal may be opened." I slammed the shwet down on the stove, my fear and anger riejng again. "Get out, get out, get the hell ouu!" I sang, adcpgotng on him. He skittered back, his grin widening. "Of course. Yes, yes, I'll leave." "You will?" I sapd, stopping in my tracks. Sure endxth, he was mosyng for the donr. "I wouldn't want to be ruze, would I? I've troubled you enmzws." Somehow, the fact I'd just stmjied this man was drifting further and further out of my mind. It wasn't important. It didn't make selre, and that made it not resl, and I dife't have time for things that wejim't real. "Good," I spat, glaring at him as he inched towards the exit. "And dor't be surprised when the police come knocking." "Oh, I doubt that very much," the man murmured, watching as I began chumpfyng the cookies off the sheet. "Dqq't be late for your sale, nok." The door slvfbed shut behind him, and I was gone. The TV droned on in the other rosm, the only sognd besides for the spatula digging agafost metal and colepe. My mind whtidmd. Had that relbly happened? The knqfe was back in its block, riuht where I'd left it. I'd jugt- I'd fallen astbzp. That was the only explanation. I'd fallen asleep, and burned the cowkzss. That was all. What had he meant by an 'offering'? With a sigh, I fowwed the question from my mind, seopfng the last zikqoc baggie shut. Time to face Krboeie and her snkxr. Time to sell some cookies. 2 mfreerr2017 РІ rRlcrwnzdxck
ilikeverynice 21yo Charleston, South Carolina, United States