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In your horror, you hadn’t heard the shop owner come up behind you. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stammer through a response, but he raises a hand up to signal for you to stop.
❝ You used the key I gave you, didn’t you? I knew I should’ve been more careful with that. ❞
As he speaks, the flesh still sitting on the operating table starts to twitch. You realize with a wave of nausea that maybe it isn’t even dead.
The shop owner points towards the twitching candy-flesh amalgamation sitting on the table.
❝ That’s what happened to the last person who found this room. I really, really don’t want that to be you. I like you, y’know? You’ve got good taste, and a knack for making candy. So... how about we make a deal? ❞
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