Quote:
Your Christmas cookies turned out great for once! There was no burning or dropping of the batter and now you have dozens of cookies just waiting to be eaten or given out as gifts. However, as you leave the cookies to cool and go about your business, the smell of gingerbread seems to follow you, no matter if you made gingerbread cookies or not. A strange feeling as though someone is watching you takes over and from time to time you swear that you can hear a strange little voice saying the same thing over and over. “You can’t catch me”. The feeling passes after a few hours, but it might be best to avoid gingerbread for the rest of the holiday season…just in case.
Dorian was sure he was hallucinating again. First, it had been because he had, in a bout of grand stupidity and rather reckless lack of thought, gotten into some rather special brownies once upon a time that had been left out in the main antechamber of the rift for over 48 hours. The special ingredient in said brownies back then had been almost certainly enhanced by the magic of chaos, (go figure), and he’d been left nearly comatose in a bout of vivid waking dreams that involved him, a teal space whale, and a rather colorful talking fish bird.. thing. He didn’t like to discuss his past mistake all that much really. Just thinking about it tended to hurt. But that was his basis of comparison for what was going on now and he was certain he was hallucinating because it was starting in the same manner.
Hearing voices that Dorian was positive he’d never heard before.
Something kept insisting it couldn’t be caught? Well fine. Be that way. Dorian huffed, looking up from the floor where he lay, prone and wondering what he’d ingested to have caused these hallucinogenic ramblings in his skull. What was next? Dancing pink elephants? Actually that wouldn’t be so bad. He’d probably be okay with those, it would have been a lot kinder than the talking fish bird thing of his past.
Alas, poor Dorian, there was no elephants, pink or otherwise to fill his vision, just an annoying gleeful giggle of a disembodied voice claiming it would not be caught and he would be unable to catch said voice. <******** you.” He said to the otherwise empty room, the smell of his baked goods making his head spin and stomach flair up in disgust. Feeling, or rather, thinking he’d been unwittingly victim of a drugging was doing nothing for his appetite. It also smelled like gingerbread cookies which were the worst kind of cookie. They were a grandmother type of cookie and wholly unacceptable for him. So why did his place smell like gingerbread? Augh.
“Augh.” This was a nightmare, the voice kept reaping the same damn thing and it smelled BAD.
“AUGH.” Dorian rolled onto his side, grimacing as he realized there was flour on the floor, ergo, flour was now also on him. With a rather loud and exasperated huff, he slowly lifted his torso off the tile, eyes squinting into nothing as the voice seemed to get louder the more he moved.
“Can’t you just shut up?” He asked said voice which chose to respond in the same manner as it had been doing previously. With claiming it could not be caught.
“I’m being haunted.” Dorian muttered getting on his legs and looking at his cooling cookies, stomach still churning over the idea that he might eat some soon. The fact he was certain he was drugged not helping.
The gingerbread scent made him gag, and he stumbled to the sink, just wanting a bit of water. He looked at the cookies one more time and-
He was very such he had been drugged.
