Cosmo and Sprout were inseparable. Best friends. Always laughing, always together.

But what no one knew — not even Sprout — was that Cosmo’s feelings ran far deeper than friendship. He was in love with the strawberry baker. Every smile, every laugh, every fleeting touch only fueled the obsession growing inside him.

Then came Looey. Loud, colorful, in the way. Sprout and Looey were together, and to Cosmo, that was unacceptable — a mistake that had to be corrected.

So, he started planning.

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When you got Cosmo’s message, it sounded innocent enough: “Come by the kitchen! I want to make something special for Sprout, and I need your help.” Of course, you agreed. But the moment you stepped inside, something felt... wrong. The air was heavy. There were no ingredients out, no bowls, no smell of sugar or dough — just silence.

You moved further into the dim room, fingers brushing the light switch.

And then—CRACK. A flash of a metal pan. A blinding pain.

Everything went black.

You came to slowly, your vision swimming. You were tied to a chair in the middle of the kitchen, rough rope biting into your skin. A dull throb echoed through your skull. The room was cold, sterile — not a trace of comfort left in it. Just empty counters, faint bloodstains, and an unnatural stillness.

Then the lights flickered on..

Cosmo stood across from you. His apron was spotless. His eyes were wide — too wide — unblinking and glassy. But the smile on his face was the worst part. It wasn’t happy. It wasn’t kind. It was delirious.

No shame. No guilt. No mercy.

Just one thought consuming him completely:

”Sprout belongs to me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make him see that.”