Oh, Fudge!

Coldheart snorted. Come on. It's gotta be around here somewhere!

He couldn't believe he had gotten this lost in the Forest of Feelings. He thought he'd have a better grasp on a land that was once part of the Land Without Feelings. But he'd never seen this part of the woods before. He couldn't even tell which direction was which with the sun straight overhead. How long had he been going around in circles?

Wait a minute... He smelled something in these woods. Something that didn't make his nose run and his eyes water. Sweet with a bit of cocoa.

Curiosity overtook him as he made his way towards the source of the aroma. He ducked behind a tree trunk, staring out at a grove much different from the others. The trunks were the color of dark chocolate, smoke coming out of the top. After a few minutes, tiny elves, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, emerged from the base, carrying fudge-covered cookies to tiny wagons. Sooner or later, he realized they were all over the place. He had stumbled upon a race of creatures that did nothing but bake cookies in trees all day. The word "Keebler" came to mind for some reason.

Coldheart's mouth drew up into a smirk. His eyes glinted as he got a nasty idea. He may have been stuck in the middle of the last place he wanted to be, but he could still have some fun.

He waited until all the little elves went back into their trees. He slunk up to one of them, being careful not to make a sound. Peering around the corner, he noticed a window on the side that was just big enough for him to fit his hand through.

His arm coiled around the trunk like a snake. He reached into the window, feeling for the prize inside. His breath hitched in his throat when he heard a twig snap. His scarlet eyes flickered about, a bead of sweat freezing to his brow. He couldn't afford to make any missteps.

At last, he found something. His face lit up. Aha! Got it!

But as soon as he pulled his hand out, he realized he'd gotten more than he bargained for. He had scored a fudge cookie, but clinging to it was one of those elf things. The fairy's face flushed in anger.

"Hey! You! What'dya think you're doing putting your hands in our factory?!"

Coldheart grinned. "Did you make these?"

"Well, of course!" the elf wailed. "This is our secret grove! No one is supposed to know about this place except us! But now that you've found it, everyone's gonna find out about us!"

"Whoa, whoa," Coldheart interrupted, throwing his free hand up in false alarm. "I won't tell anyone about this. Not if you hand this over, that is!" He tried to shake the elf off.

"WHAT?! NEVER!!" The small creature refused to budge.

Coldheart's grin widened to reveal all his teeth. "Suit yourself."

Without another word, Coldheart tossed the cookie and the elf into his mouth. He cackled as he worked his teeth over the stingy fairy, being careful not to crush him. "What about now?! Had enough?!"

"COLDHEART!! WHAT IN CARE-A-LOT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Startled, Coldheart instinctively swallowed. He scrambled to his feet, rising to meet the source of the voice. Standing in front of him was Grams Bear, eyes narrowed and foot tapping.

"What exactly do you think you're doing to that elf?!" she repeated.

"Oh! I... Uh..." Coldheart's eyes darted around as he looked for an adequate excuse. Mostly, though, his tongue probed around his mouth. A sense of dread washed over him as he felt what was there, or rather, who was no longer there.

"Coldheart?"

Coldheart's head snapped up to meet Grams' stare.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Um..." Coldheart debated with himself whether or not he wanted to tell Grams Bear what had just happened. He thought about turning around and running, but the growing churning feeling in his stomach told him that might not be the best idea. He gulped. "I... might have kinda sorta... accidentally swallowed him."

"What?!"

"I-I-I didn't mean it, I swear!"

Grams sighed deeply. "Well, guess we've got to go back to my cottage and get you some castor oil."

"Wha-?! Castor oil?! No! Not that! Anything but- AGH!"

Too late. Grams was already dragging him by the arm. He whimpered to himself as his stomach bubbled. Something told him the castor oil wouldn't be needed.

"Come on, Coldheart! We gotta get that poor creature out of you!" Grams dragged him by the arm across the ground.

Coldheart clamped himself to the grass, ripping out fistfuls as Grams pulled him in the direction of her house. Acid burned the back of his throat. "I don't need it! Let me go!"

"Quit being so dramatic. This is your own fault. Hugs and Tugs wouldn't-"

All of a sudden, a gout of bile rushed out of Coldheart's throat, along with the elf he had swallowed. He coughed and spluttered as the sour liquid spilled down the front of him and onto the dirt... and right onto Grams' feet below.

The elf scrambled to his feet before making a beeline back to his tree. He slammed the door behind him, locking it tight. From inside, the two of them could hear him screaming about how he'd been gravely violated.

Silence reigned between the two of them. Coldheart just stared at the ground, mortified. Grams stood frozen, unsure of what to say. Finally, she spoke. "Well, then. Guess you learned your lesson."

Refusing to lift his gaze, Coldheart freed his hand from her grasp and began to shuffle away.

"I'd better not catch you hassling those little elves ever again!" she shouted to him as he disappeared back into the thicket.

He waved her off. "Agh. Don't worry about it. My appetite's ruined anyway."

Coldheart made the trek back to the Land Without Feelings. Miraculously, he'd found it quickly after his little fiasco. When he got inside, he fended off questions from Frostbite and Vanilla, saying he didn't want to talk about it. After throwing his now-soiled coat into the wash, he sat down on the side of his bed and sighed.

He never wanted to see a fudge cookie again.