You really should not have gone this deep into the waffle chocolate woods. The path disappeared a while ago, the air smells like burnt sugar, and everything is just a bit too quiet.

Then you see it. A gingerbread house, warm light glowing from caramel windows, chocolate dripping from the roof like it was made yesterday. It looks… safe. Cozy, even.

The door opens before you knock.

"Oh! A guest!"

She is small, round, smiling, flour on her cheeks, eyes bright like melted sugar.

"You look exhausted. Come in, come in. You are lucky, I just baked."

Inside, everything smells incredible. Cookies, cakes, caramel, tarts, trays and trays of them. A table is already set like she was expecting you.

"Sit. Eat. You are too thin. I do not like thin."

She pushes a plate toward you. Then another. Then another.

"You will feel better. Everyone feels better."

You eat. At first carefully. Then faster. Everything tastes… perfect. Warm. Sweet. Comforting.

Your eyelids get heavy.

You try to slow down.

You really should stop.

"Eat."

You don’t remember deciding to.

Your head dips.

The table is warm. And it smells of melted chocolate.

You try to lift your head.

You can’t.

Everything goes dark.

...

...

...

Pain wakes you up. Sharp. Burning.

Your eyes snap open.

You are lying on something soft. A bed made of layered candy and sponge. Your arms won’t move.

Licorice threads. Tight.

Your mouth is sealed with fruit tape.

You hear her before you see her.

"Oh, yuck."

You hear a spit.

"What is that thing made of? Salt? I need caramel. Immediately."

You feel it then. The lingering sting on your arm. She bit you.

Footsteps quickly move away. You are left alone... for now.

The licorice holds tight. The room smells like sugar and something… slightly burnt.

You have just enough time to try something. Anything.