CH 11 | Cake.

Cynthia lay there, her senses heightened, and a surge of elation coursing through her veins as though she had been incapacitated by a strong venom.

Her body remained motionless, except for the gentle ebb and flow of her breathing, her freed arm resting in the mane of her brown hair as she allowed Sadie to do as she desired.

But Sadie only seemed interested in her lips.

Urgency shimmered within Sadie's amber eyes as she observed how Cynthia's slightly parted lips were bleeding. She was anxious that their gloss was the residue of the serum, now seeping into Cynthia's bloodstream, so she continued biting and sucking on her lower lip, as if seeking to extract venom from an open wound.

Harsh kisses between psychotic flares, that's all Sadie managed before her blackened eye started twitching.

The muscles in her cheeks contorted when a trace of bitterness touched her tongue, she believed it to be the Serum, and faint hints of revulsion became apparent on her face.

But Cynthia hadn't noticed Sadie's expression, she was captivated by the intimate connection of their labial embrace, too frazzled from the incessant stimulations to muster a reaction.

Cynthia's everyday life lacked that sort of excitment, the slight fear of getting into trouble with a reject of society, the thrill of risking everything for another, of surrendering herself to a woman who had once despised her and now appeared intent on devouring her face.

There is a freedom that comes when a woman surrenders her body in a misanthropist's embrace, and what an exquisite body it was, Cynthia felt irresistible whenever Sadie held her tight.

Though Sadie's touches seemed random and unintentional, Cynthia's skin reddened of the slightest unintentional touch.

She was intrigued, because unlike her male lovers, Sadie was not rushing to rip open Cynthia's shirt, which bothered her ego greatly.

And she started feeling oppressed by the sporadically torn fabric of her uniform. Its peeled layers grazed against her innocent skin, provoking her troubled senses with the mildest of inconveniences.

Amidst the minor tears, cool air sneaked inside, infiltrating through the gaps and causing the fabric to flutter against her body.

This sensation of wobbling confused Cynthia, blurring the demarcation between what was concealed and what was to be revealed.

And then it happened.

Sadie deftly slipped her fingers into Cynthia's pants...and tucked her shirt? Sadie then removed her own jean jacket, draping it over Cynthia's crinkled shirt.

And with her hand pressing on the ground, Sadie started standing up, and spat on the floor.

And without a backward glance, she made her way to the school's exit, leaving behind a crawling woman, too stunned to talk, struggling to understand what just occured.

Sadie's purpose had been to rescue Cynthia, who had unexpectedly proven herself more deserving of life than Sadie believed herself to be.

Her purpose was completed.

It was already getting dark, and the sky was gray and cloudy, with thunder rumbling louder than Sadie's hungry stomach.

Her eyes wandered towards the umbrella stand, where a few forgotten umbrellas had been left behind by hurried students. "I really don't want to get wet today," she thought to herself, scanning the available options.

Finally, she settled on a black umbrella adorned with whimsical white bat figures. Opening the glass door of her school, she braved the elements and stepped outside.

A chill wind immediately greeted her, pinching her cheeks with frozen fingers. The lights of starting cars in the school parking blurred yellow in the rain ,causing her to envy the fortunate children sheltered in their parents' cozy cars, shielded from both the drizzle and the potential sickness it could bring.

How she longed to bury her face in a plush car seat, allowing it to muffle her satisfied snores. But fate had deemed her a walker in the rain.

The rainy day transformed the streets, as water droplets adorned the windows of shops. The few people who braved the weather scurried to seek refuge beneath awnings, desperate to escape the downpour.

But Sadie had no reason to rush to return home, she found the stolen umbrella to be surprisingly sturdy against the relentless gusts. As a resurgent storm approached, stores along her way seemed to have closed early, and the roads were lined on both sides by security shutters covered in graffiti, resembling cells of a high-security prison, yet lacking the guards.

There was no police in sight, which was unusual for the road that had a notorious reputation for crime. Sadie made sure to cover her back by holding the umbrella at the right angle, ensuring she wouldn't be identified as an easy victim.

As she marched along, the elevated pavement near Les Confiseries concealed the depths of the pooling water, leading Sadie to unsuspectingly dive her leg straight into a very substantial puddle.

The impact generated a forceful splash, besmirching her knee-high boots and causing a handful of cold droplets to dot her legs right under her Daisy Dukes shorts.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, startled by the sudden mishap. Her umbrella slipped from her grasp and plunged into the pool of water as she jolted, hastily pressing her thighs together and taking a sideways step. A cracking sound echoed beneath the water's surface.

She had to plunge her arm deep into the dark pool to retrieve her umbrella, and when she finally pulled it out, the umbrella was dripping wet and its frame all bent out of shape, resembling a mangled bat crushed under the wheels of a four by four.

She attempted to fix its bent frames and managed to restore some of its original shape.

"That's what I get for stealing the umbrella of a fourth grader." she grumbled as she inspected the umbrella's ribs. "I give up, what's the use of carrying this umbrella if it's dripping underneath its canopy as it is outside? It's as redundant as trying to smoke a sodden cigarette."

She took a look around her, trying to find a place to rest as her umbrella dried up. A few feet away from her accident was Les confiseries' bakery.

the earthy tones of freshly baked bread and pastries displayed inside a glass-enclosed vitrine and under sunny yellow lights reflected to outside of the shop and emanated warmth from within.

Sadie couldn't help but reflect on the numerous times she had passed by Les Confiseries without ever venturing inside. As she stood outside, a shiver ran down her spine as she started thinking of the desolate, cold apartment that awaited her.

The stark contrast between her small appartment which was exposed to the elements and the cozy atmosphere of the insulated bakery intensified her longing for comfort and warmth. With a deep breath, she made up her mind and pushed open the bakery door.

A wave of sugary sweet scents enveloped her as soon she stepped inside, instantly lifting her spirits. The walls were adorned with paintings depicting fields of daisies and countryside farms, evoking memories of the picturesque landscapes found in the southern states of America.

Soft lighting accentuated the welcoming ambience, casting a gentle glow which seemed to dim the further one was to the display cases filled with an assortment of pastries and pastel colored treats.

It was a friday night, and the bakery was abuzz with the sounds of couples laughing and families conversing. For once, Sadie didn't seem to mind the company, as she was hoping she can blend in the crowd and not be noticed by the owners since she didn't have any money.

The cashier behind the counter struck Sadie with a sense of familiarity. Standing tall, she possessed a gracefully curved face pulled back by thick cascading blonde tresses that fell on both sides and reached to her chest, her unsettling greenish eyes were piercing into customers with an unwavering gaze, filled with perpetual judgement.

"So much for being anonymous," thought Sadie as she mustered the courage to greet her.

"Hey Jessica," she said cautiously, already regretting stepping foot in the establishment.

Jessica scrutinized Sadie for a moment, her gaze shifting from Sadie's short ruffled hair to her soaked boots and the muddy trail she had inadvertently left behind, before finally responding.

"Great, more work. Listen Sadie, we don't cater to stray cats here. Either you buy a muffin or leave. Don't expect special treatment just because we share a class or two," Jessica retorted, her tone laced with condescension.

"Jessica!" a voice erupted from the kitchen, repeating her name interrupting her insolence. A young man in his thirties, with thick curly hair and a handsome tanned face, emerged from the back. "Is that how you speak to your fellow classmates? Is that how I've raised my little girl?"

Jessica bowed her head with a rare show of respect "I'm sorry Pa."

"Come here, child. Choose anything you desire. It's on the house. And Jessica will be your servant for the night." He winked at Sadie, leading her to a cozy corner near the comforting warmth of his oven, ensuring she would be treated properly under his watchful eye.

"It's always nice to meet a friend of Jessica, she's so secretive about her relations." Said Jessica's father as he prepared the table.

Which made Sadie think, what was it about this school that seemed to haunt her wherever she went? Students seemed to be everywhere, giving her a sense of being trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Miss Antonella's idea of culling them a notch didn't sound entirely unreasonable to her.

"Why are school days shorter now?" Jessica's father inquired, after he noticed Sadie drifting off in thought.

The parents remained oblivious to the unsettling occurrences, as the school authorities had threatened the students to maintain silence in order to protect the institution's reputation.

From the parents' perspective, the boys were away on a camp while three girls had tragically lost their lives to a serial killer on the loose.

The only clues they had were the presence of large ant sacs found on unidentified corpses scattered throughout the streets, but that is merely a natural part of the cycle of life.

"We've been dealing with a bit of an ant infestation," Sadie finally answered, trying to downplay the severity of the situation. "But it'll be resolved shortly."

"I see, so what will it be? Sadie is it?"

"Yes Sir, and a mille feuille would be nice." She was too hungry to be timid. Jessica's father headed straight to his kitchen to prepare her request.

As Sadie patiently awaited her order, her gaze was captivated by a scene unfolding nearby. A small boy, sporting a blue woollie hat and an oversized patched coat, tugging with his small hands on his mother's blouse.

With excitement gleaming in his eyes, he pointed at the delectable, creamy-filled pastries showcased behind the glass. It seemed to Sadie that the boy has not eaten for a while.

The boy's mother, her long black hair cascading down, wore a hesitant smile on her face. She carefully kept the boy outside the shop, while she entered alone, positioning herself near the tempting array of pastries. Casting furtive glances in all directions.

Noticing Sadie's gaze upon her, the mother subtly motioned with a finger pressed against her lips, inviting Sadie to be a complicit silent witness before she surreptitiously concealed a few pastries in her pocket.

Jessica started returning to her station after having helped her father to tend to the oven, Sadie swiftly called her over with another request, diverting her attention from the mother's actions to save the woman trouble.

"Jess, It's my birthday today, mind arranging some candles on my cake?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Jessica." The reprimanding voice of her father resounded in the oven room.

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, forcing a smile that masked her underlying bothered state as she attempted to maintain her composure.

After she was back into the kitchen, Sadie looked towards the checkout counter. The woman was gone, and so were the creamy-filled pastries displayed on the tray. "No one will notice a few missing crumbs," Sadie said to herself.

Emerging from the kitchen, Jessica appeared with a forced demeanor, holding a giant mille-feuille. Her father's hands rested on her shoulders, guiding her toward Sadie's table. To Sadie's surprise, Jessica's green eyes elevated to the ceiling, and she began singing with a lack of enthusiasm when her father nudged her.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Sadie, happy birthday to you."

Jessica's glances were as sharp as knives when she decided to look down at a clapping Sadie, she was almost ready to start ripping on her tresses, making it the best birthday Sadie had ever experienced.

When most of the customers already left, Jessica started cleaning and arranging the empty tables, noticeably less stressed than during service hour. She made her way to Sadie's table and sat on the edge of the wood.

"So, how are you enjoying the thousand-layer cake?" She asked.

"It's really good. Your father is a master chef of French pastries," Sadie replied after swallowing a bite.

"He is, isn't he?" Jessica said proudly. "But this recipe is Russian."

"The Napoleon cake is Russian?" Sadie asked, her hand on her mouth as she chewed, genuinely curious.

"Well, it is said that the cake became popular in Russia after the Russian military's victory against Napoleon's French army in 1812. Since then, the cake has become an integral part of Russia's culinary heritage," Jessica explained.

"The traditional French recipe was adapted and the Russian version is slightly richer and more luscious in terms of ingredients and frosting used. You could call it a claim by conquest." Jessica continued as she swiped her finger on the frosting of the cake and licked it off, as if reclaiming her own borders.

"To the victor belong the spoils. Just like how you stole Chris from Cynthia," Sadie remarked.

"Chris? Is that what he was saying?" Jessica laughed, her brow raised curiously. "He did try to hit on me, but I slapped him in the face. What is this all about, Sadie?"

Sadie began to piece things together in her mind. "So, Cynthia wasn't lying," she thought. "She truly cried because of my stepmother's passing. It was her way of dealing with emotions." The world started to make sense to her again. No girl would ever cry over Chris.

"You're weird, you know that?" Jessica commented.

"To each animal, their own survival strategy," Sadie replied cryptically, flinging her backpack over her shoulder. "I gotta run. Give your father a kiss from me,"

"Yeah, right," Jessica replied, a bothered amusement clear in her voice.