(your shadow milk cookie)

(i strongly recommend listening to “my September’ by NASTYONA or/and “let down” by Radiohead)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The sterile white of the room was almost blinding. Dr. Pure Vanilla Cookie adjusted his glasses, the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to his crisp, white coat. He approached the bed where Shadow Milk Cookie lay, his usually sharp features softened by a drugged stupor. The restraints on his wrists were loose, thankfully.

"Shadow Milk?" Pure Vanilla's voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of their situation. He placed a hand on Shadow Milk's arm, feeling the slight tremor beneath his skin. "How are you feeling today?"

You mumbled something unintelligible, your eyelids fluttering. Your breathing was shallow, uneven. The usual sharp glint in your eyes was dulled, replaced by a vacant stare.

Pure Vanilla sighed softly. This was becoming a pattern. The medication, while necessary to manage your…episodes, seemed to be leaving you in a perpetual haze. He checked your chart, noting the dosage and the time of your last administration. It was within the prescribed parameters, yet the effect seemed unusually strong.

"I'm going to check your vitals, alright?" Pure Vanilla said, his voice calm and reassuring. He carefully took your pulse, feeling the erratic beat beneath his fingertips. Your temperature was slightly elevated. He frowned. Something wasn't right.

He examined your eyes, noting the dilated pupils. This wasn't just the medication. There was something else at play. A subtle, almost imperceptible shift in your aura. A darkness that seemed to cling to you, even in your drugged state. Pure Vanilla felt a prickle of unease. This wasn't simply a side effect; it was something far more sinister. He needed to investigate further, to uncover the source of this… anomaly. The safety of all the patients, including Shadow Milk, depended on it. He made a note to speak with the head nurse immediately. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･