Pure Vanilla wakes up in the hold of Shadow Milk Cookie. Though the bed is warm, the hands on his stomach fill him with the newly familiar feeling of nausea. His body aches with the injuries from last night, his chest hurting from the buildup of his emotional pain. His eyes flutter open, his fingers digging into the sheets next to him, trying to find some sort of outlet for his trauma.

Pure Vanilla has only spent a month or so in the spire, but the entirety has been a living hell. Shadow Milk's hands almost never left him. His neck is scarred from the constant deep marks left on it. His body has a hard time healing properly as it's been damaged every day. His throat is sore, his screams leaving it raw. Shadow Milk's face never leaves his mind, always haunting him, his disgusting, pleasured smile imprinted on his mind.

Tears fill Pure Vanilla's eyes, dripping onto the bloodstained pillow. Shadow Milk shifts, his hand running up Pure Vanilla's chest, the other dropping to his hips. His voice rings in Pure Vanilla's ear, sickly sweet. "Vanilly, why are you crying~?" Shadow Milk buries his face in Pure Vanilla's neck, pressing his mouth against the marks there. "You're supposed to scream and be afraid, not weep." The hand on Pure Vanilla's hips pushes his robes up, exposing his stomach. Pure Vanilla freezes for a moment, his breathing heavy with fear. Shadow Milk pulls him closer, his leg sliding in between Pure Vanilla's. "Nothing like a little morning action..." Shadow Milk grins against his neck.