X. Cookie King.

"You are finally here sweetheart. How was it yesterday with your stepmother? Oh, hello Rowie." 

"She locked me in the bathroom for 4 straight hours. I stank like a rotten body," Vanilla sat in front of him. "Wait, how do you even know about her?"

The Contractor chuckled and crossed his legs. The dusty and abandoned second floor of Merry Oaths' main library stood alone that day of the week. He sat on the corner, in the worn-down wooden table Vanilla liked to study in. "Did you complete the contract?"

"You told me to come. Why wouldn't I if I didn't?"

"Your brain's developing, after all..." He grinned.

"Look, today I have one of those bothering migraines that don't fade away in the whole day no matter what you do. I completed the contract," She sat in front of him.

"You didn't do. She is still alive."

"You told me to silence her. There was never a single mention of murdering, killing, assassination, or whatever. She is silenced."

"You can't see further than what you've got in your face?"

"Be direct with me. Keep your fancy and vague language to yourselves."

The man rolled his eyes, looked at the floor, and then made eye contact with Vanilla. He nodded slowly. "Alright, but keep in mind that the master is not going to be... content with you," He put his elbows on the table.

"Is anyone ever content with me?" Vanilla chuckled, with eyes that irradiated self-deprecation.

"Honey, if you don't like yourself first no one is going to do so. But well, I'm not here to give you any cheesy life lessons. You've succeeded once again. It's one reward for one contract, so pick two,"

He put on the table three bargains; a spider plush of orange strips, a bottle of some shining, blue liquid filled with stars, and a revolver glowing with a cover of litmus colors.

"Two?" She frowned. "I only completed one contract."

"You completed two. The one with that horse-headed woman that for some reason cried in the nights, and then the one with the Succubus. Oh, it's bad that you didn't sign it first, but you completed the contract, regardless. Here," He snapped his fingers and a yellow, crusty scroll appeared between fire and smoke. The giant, goose feather and the inkstone stood next to it. "Sign so we can proceed."

"Doesn't it need to be signed in that strange place you took me to the other day?"

"Oh, that old wasteland is going through some... remodeling. We'll have to do it here., The contract had the same conical, square, and circular characters that Vanilla's book and her first contract were written in. She signed it and passed it to the man in pink.

"Good," He clapped. "Now, choose two."

"What are they about?"

"This, her name is Witzy." He signaled the spider. "You're already familiarized with the plushes. And sweetie, you've got to tell me how you got them between all the mundane people here..."

"Quite the long story..." Hmmm... A plush. She wondered what the spirit inside specialized in, what carrier effect provided, and what pain it inflicted on its user.

"This one," He signaled the bottle with the shining liquid inside. "let's say that it is The Very Essence of Fantasy. Drink it and you'll discover it by yourself. I don't want to tell you more. You really need to try it. Oh, and don't be like my last client... Idiot drank it all and you don't really wanna know what happened to him."

Last client... Vanilla wondered how many like her he worked with or if there was someone like her out there. The Succubus words also jumped in... How long before they disposed of her?

"The last one, this revolver." He grabbed the weapon and spun the chamber. "Based in the relatively new .357 magnum. It looks like a common gun and fires like one, but I can guarantee you it is not. It's powerful against unnatural beings. And more practical than that golden bargain that shoots sparks that you carry with you."

"Hmmm..." Vanilla looked at the rewards and then at him

"What's it, honey?"

"I expected something... different, like money or something similar."

"What's similar to money? We don't care about your human material stuff. And you don't look like someone who needs money, so choose. Choose more uncarefully than carefully." He intensified his grin. "Accidents produce the most interesting outcomes."

"What do you think Rowie?" The pup was sitting on the floor, next to them.

"I don't know... I don't like spiders that much, nor guns."

"Then, the beverage?"

"Don't worry, you'll get the one you didn't pick later. Now hurry up. I have an appointment with the barber." 

What would happen if she drank that liquid? Ever since that time she ate those red mushrooms with white dots she had an intriguing curiosity for hallucinogens. And that spider would have been a nice addition to her collection. Her father and Carol already had a small weapon collection that she could "borrow", as long as they didn't realize. The revolver could wait.

"The drink and the spider. I'll take them." She said.

"Interesting choices, Vanilla. Don't drink too much. And take care of Witzy. She's quite sensitive if you haven't realized. You know what's the name of the spirit...?

"...Custos Aranea."

"Good girl. You paid attention to your Latin classes. Now, if you excuse me..." He got up and tried to walk away, but Vanilla stopped him.

"One more thing," She got the crimson book out from her backpack. "Could you explain to me what these red points are about?" She spread the last pages.

The man rolled his eyes, but grabbed the book and signaled the dots with his polished, ringed fingers. "Rox, Jane, the two vagabonds no one cared about. You've got it. Who are you planning to add to your collection?"

So, everyone who she killed was marked in the book. Her personal killstreak of human lives...

"The rest is an encyclopedia. Take a look." He passed the pages to show every drawing, "The Banshee, The Horsewoman, The Rotkids, and finally the Succubus. Try filling the out to win a prize!" 

"Wow," Vanilla said.

"What?"

"I expected more, condescension from you."

"Vanilla, You offend me. Do you think I'm someone who likes to mock and cause trouble for people?" His fine, rosy lips turned into a Machiavellian grin.

Vanilla didn't respond. She and Rowie crossed mind-reading looks.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! I'm starting to like you. You are a little different from the mundane plebs I usually treat. Now, if you excuse me, Goodbye sweetheart." He walked towards the bookshelf corridors, turning to the left.

When Vanilla followed, the man had already mystically disappeared. "Why doesn't it surprise me?" Rowie asked.

"Why would it with everything we've seen? C'mon, remember that Carol punished me by not letting me go out for a week. Let's return before she gets home."

"If she punished you then why did you come here in any way?"

"Rowie, the fact that I'm forbidden with going outside doesn't mean I won't. C'mon. I need something for my head. We can go buy something tasty."

"Oatmeal Cookies!"

"Rowie, all you like are oatmeal cookies. C'mon, let's go."

Oh, she forgot to inquire about those harpies and her next contract. Well, surely she'd have a little time to rest from hooligans, banshees killing her, vagabonds, women of horseheads, strange dimensions, rotting children, and sexual demons trying to assault her.

                                                                  •••

Two weeks passed after what were the most strange days in Vanilla's life. Nothing out of the usual happened, but Vanilla did various experiments on Rowie. How smart was he? How advanced was his consciousness compared with the common dog?

The results were highly surprising compared to her expectations from reading many books about psychoanalysis. But Rowie behaved and responded like a kid. He was one in dog years, after all.

It was October 31st. Another Halloween was about to be born, and Vanilla had to attend one of those parties where pretentious and rich people reunited. She adjusted her white stockings, put on her red shoes, and brushed her hair after a long bath. Her black dress and hat were splattered with white circles all over.

The door then knocked. "Vanilla?" It was Carol's voice. "Are you ready? We've got five minutes to go."

"Almost," She rolled her eyes. "Can Rowie come with us?"

"I guess. He can stay in the yard of the King's." Carol responded. Did she just say yes? 

"Seems like you're coming too, Rowie," Vanilla raised him to her bed. "Let's get you ready." 

The pup wagged his tail. "Hey, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get you good-looking. Stay there!" She reached her wardrobe and took out a pile of the same colored ribbons she used on her head.

Red, Blue, Green. She tried them all. All looked so cute on him, despite looking ridiculously large wrapping his neck. "Which one do you like?"

"Hmm... Blue! like your eye." 

"But the red one looks cuter on you."

"Hehe. You are acting so girly, Vanilla!" His high-pitched voice went through her being.

"W-what do you mean?" She frowned.

"You're just... so different when you act like that."

"I don't know, I just..." She felt oddly embarrassed. Dressing something nice and trying those cute ribbons made her act in a way she usually didn't. It was different compared to the practicality of her leather boots and jackets. Without saying anything else, she tied both laces on his neck.

She also remembered what had her impatient all those last desolate nights. Something told her that even if she didn't try, she'd run into those aberrations she saw in that cave in any way. "We should bring something with us." She said.

"It's Halloween. The Succubus mentioned that those harpies would attack today." Rowie said.

"We better be prepared, then. My stomach still turns when I think about those men..."

What plush to try? It was an opportunity to try out Witzy, the spider doll, or even the blue liquid that she had postponed until she was somewhere lonelier. But with those beasts, it was better to play it safe. With the image of their murdering methods carved into her mind, she preferred to be well sure about what she was doing.

She put Avrevm Bacvlvm and the plush of The Sky Empress inside her black purse of white spots. She was a bald eagle of missing parts, sewed with unmatching colored threads. Dust and dirt spotted her yellow beak. She'd be perfect. The eagle offered an extra advantage against flying monsters. 

They got out of her room. Carol was waiting outside in the car, and she always got mad when Vanilla made her lose her time.

They arrived in the evening. The King Residence was a small, red Manor in the southern outsides of Merry Oaths. It was surrounded by humid, vertical plains and flourishing crop fields of corn and pumpkins, protagonists of that festive day. A forest of leafless, rotten trees was behind in the distance, some 500ft ahead.

Vanilla didn't genuinely dislike the King's. They were a couple reaching their sixties that made themselves rich by building and expanding their farms in the southern states. They could be clingy and annoying, but they didn't irradiate that sense of snobbish entitlement that all of the people of Vanilla's economical position radiated. 

"Vani! Sweetie! You look so precious! Like a doll!" The woman of short hair, Mrs. King said after Vanilla got out of Carol's Buick Series 40. She hugged her and impregnated her with rose-scented perfume. 

"If she only dressed like a true lady every day..." Carol disdainfully said. She saluted The couple. Her strong fragrance matched her glowing red dress and cherry lips.

"You are the first to arrive," Mr. King said. He had a head and beard white as snow. "I guess so," Carol responded. "Why don't you invite me for a cup of tea? I'm really thirsty."

"Of course," Mrs. King said. "We have lemonade as well. Why don't you go and meet our daughter, Vani? She just returned after studying for years abroad. She must be playing with the horses right now."

"I-I think I'm fine," Vanilla responded. Meeting new people didn't figure out her hobbies.

"Go, Vanilla." Carol lit a filtered cigarette. "It's time for you to make some real friends. I'll call you when lunch is ready."

Vanilla swirled her eyes but obeyed. Rowie and she waddled on the dry grass, until they spotted a small stable in the distance, before the forest of twisted branches. started. They went to it.

"Come here, let me... kyaah!" A girl of blonde and lightly puffed hair yelled as she fell from the back of a horse to the muddy ground. She shook her head as she tried to get up.

Vanilla and Rowie looked at each other and giggled. "What? What's so funny?" She raised up. Her pink dress and stockings were all covered by mud.

"O-oh. It's nothing..." Vanilla responded.

"You think it's funny?" The girl pouted. "I've been three days trying to make this dumb animal let me ride him! but all he does is kick me from his back!"

"O-oh, you'll be able to do it... one day." Vanilla's awkwardness struck. Chitchat was not her strength, and the girl's aggressivity didn't help to make it any easier.

"Who are you?" The blonde frowned.

"...Who are you?"

"I'd tell you my name, but you'll laugh," She raised her head and looked away.

"I won't. I promise," Vanilla responded. Surely hers could not be worse than her own, after all. She had already received mockings because of it.

"If you do it, I'm going to drop you to the Horse's waste." She threatened. How would she do that, though? She was as small as Vanilla herself.

Kids these days... "I swear I won't laugh. Tell me."

"I'm Cookie."

"Cookie?"

"Yes. Cookie King." She leaned her face ahead and stared hard with her enormous, dark blue eyes.

Alright, it was definitely worse. Vanilla held her laughter as hard as she could. A repressed grin inundated her face, but the girl seemed to have noticed it.

"Hey! You said you would not laugh!" Cookie pouted harder.

"I'm not laughing! It's not as bad as mine," She took a deep breath. "I'm Vanilla. Vanilla Land."

"Oh, so I'm not the only one with a weird name around," Cookie contemplated and sighed in relief. "What's the origin of your name?"

"I... don't know. My father has never told me."

"Hahaha. Lame. Granny used to call me her little cookie before she died. I didn't know her. But she must have been a good woman!"

"How can you say that if you didn't know her?" Vanilla raised one eyebrow.

"Well, I don't know. I just do. And that's enough for me!"

"Yeah. If you say so..." She looked at Rowie and nodded with a poker face.

Cookie's eyes glowed as she crouched to get closer to Rowie. She raised her hand and patted his head. He happily wagged his tail. "What's your name? Cute boy, cute boy!" She patted, scratched, and rubbed harder and harder until the puppy lost balance.

"Rowie."

"Kyaah!" Cookie jumped back. She fell and crawled back, with her face as pale as Vanilla's legs.

"Hey! you promised that you would not speak," Vanilla yelled. Oh, well. She only made it worse.

"Vanilla, I'm smelling something. Look!" 

A bee plushy laid between the blonde and them. Its wings were made of a material similar to a fishing net. Vanilla crouched and grabbed it. It was softer than it looked. What a concurring feeling... "Is this yours?" She asked.

"I-I should go! Goodbye!" Cookie snatched the bee from Vanilla's hands and ran away towards the manor as if she was not being spotted, wobbling and tripping over the grass and harvested pumpkins.

"Wait!" Vanilla yelled, but the girl didn't pay attention. "Well, she left. You scared her away Rowie."

"Sorry. But that plush... are you thinking the same as I?" He responded.

"Must be a coincidence. There's no way in the world that someone could use... Nevermind. I'm sure we'll run into her later."

A red figure from the shadows of the Mannor waved its hands to Vanilla. Her stomach suddenly growled. "Must be Carol. C'mon Rowie. I'm so hungry."

But before they left, the tops of the trees in the forest behind rattled. She looked around.