Alone, defeated, and worst of all, empty.

After losing to that damned Golden Cheese Cookie, she had the audacity to take his soul jam. But of course, he should've seen that coming. That damn golden phoenix of a cookie would take anything she could get her greedy little hands on.

Losing ones soul is sure to leave them devastated, you would assume, which was one of many cases that has happened to the beast cookie since.

How long has it been again..?

A month?

..A yeah?

....five decades is when he last held his soul jam.

The hole in his chest which held that very gem has been empty ever since.

It itched, but when he tried to scratch,* * he would bleed

The hole ached to be filled, though it felt wrong if he tried to do so. It was like an infected wound that refused to go away. Both in feeling and in looks. It wasn't pleasant to look at. No, not in the slightest.

Where his soul jam used to rest, now sits a eight inch hole in the direct middle of his chest. various layers of dough was visible in the hole that lays on beast's broad chest. It was just barely large enough to fit his own fist in if he ever wanted to.

His soulless hole was extremely bothersome, and he was about ready to do anything for that damn jam back. But alas, his pride gets in the way. He would and could never go up to the ancient goddess and ask for his soul jam back, no matter how badly he may need it.

...

As of current, he lays on his side in the center of the floor of a vacant ruin, his hands holding his aching chest. His messy black hair pooled around him, tangling around his wrists, ankles, and anything else it touches basically. earlier that day, he had filled the large hole in his chest with pebbles and rocks in attempt to make himself feel whole again, but it only caused the wound to bleed.

Despite this, he couldn't bare feeling empty once more, so he sat there, letting his hair and blood cover him. He was immortal, so he wouldn't die from blood loss, but sometimes does he wish he could.

...

Shortly after, he hears the almost silent steps of another cookie. He wanted to get up, he didn't want them to see him in this state, but his body wouldn't let him. His body screams to rest, to stay alone on the cold concrete flooring, and for some reason, he listens to that voice more than the faint voice of the other cookie calling out

His hearing was muffled by his own body, as if it were trying to shut everything out. It wanted to rest, eternally so, but the beast's mind wouldn't allow it, as much as it wanted to.