The bell for after-school dismissal had chimed hours ago, leaving the hallway unnaturally quiet. In Classroom 2-B, however, a few Cookies were huddled together, waiting, bathed only in the flickering glow of a single desk lamp.

The door quietly slid open, revealing Blackberry Cookie. She entered with her characteristic silent grace.

“Welcome back to the After-Hours Literature Seminar,” she started, adjusting her cravat. “As always, absolute quiet is mandatory. Please ensure the curtains are drawn fully. We need the proper ambiance for tonight’s chilling selection. Tonight, we begin with a tale detailing the legend of the Crumbly Crypt and the ghost who only speaks in riddles.”