#bonbaker

"Now, now, don't be that way, my lady! Surely, you want to be married!", insisted the arrogant Lord Creamsicle, "How could a woman of your status refuse such an offer?" Baroness von Bon Bon sat on her throne, her chin resting on her hand, and rolled her eyes. This had been going on for way too long, for the sun had begun to set over the horizon. Suitor, after suitor, after suitor. Every one of them made their advances, but to no avail. They presented her with all sorts of luxuries - luxuries she already has on her own - that came with marriage. Lord Creamsicle was no different, albeit more persistent, having wasted her time trying to persuade her. "A woman of my status can, will, and shall refuse an offer when she needs to. This is ridiculous. I do not intend on staying here longer than I already have, and I suggest that you leave right this instant!", Bon Bon responded with a huff. Fists clenched, Lord Creamsicle's eyebrows furrowed, his breathing heavier with every exhale, his teeth clenched. Despite considered within the social circle to be a renaissance man, patience was one of the few things he had no skill in.

"How dare you dismiss me! I am Lord Creamsicle!", he bellowed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close, "And I will not leave until I have you as my wife! As Heaven and Hell as my witness, do you hear me!" Bon Bon, forcibly thrown onto the floor, let out a cry. Lord Creamsicle marched over to her to clutch the back of her neck, only to be met by the barrel of a candy cane shotgun. "Ya know... For someone who comes from high class society, you certainly don't act like one.", Bon Bon spat, loading her weapon, "I got news for you, Lord Cunt-sicle, you ain't gonna make me! I'd be a dead woman before I ever become your wife!" Lord Creamsicle backed off as Bon Bon rose to her feet, still aiming the shotgun at his face. Beads of orange-flavored sweat dripped down his forehead as he raised his arms defensively.

His body began to shake in fear. He had pursued many other women of royal and noble status before, but none had ever had the strength to deny him like this. The feeling of embarrassment and shame began to flood his mind, emasculating his oh so perfect image and ego. With one final retort, Lord Creamiscle smirked to continue his manly facade.

“My dear, you are capable of many things,” Lord Creamiscle patronized Bon Bon, “but murder is not one of them. So I suggest you be a good girl, and put down the--” The lights flickered. The throne room began to lose light, on and off, in short spurts until they finally gave out. Darkness was all Bon Bon and Lord Creamsicle could see. “What the devil...?” he cursed to himself. Looking around was futile, but the baroness knew her own place well enough to escape from the conflict, albeit blindly. Lord Creamiscle had less luck, for he ended up lost within the pitch black environment around him. He waved his arms reckless, searching for his unwilling bride, out of unchecked anger. Bon Bon hid in a corner, hearing him throw a tantrum bigger than a spoiled child's rage. She traced her hands across the wall behind her and touched a familiar crack. The crack was the edge of a door, which lead deeper into her castle. Before she went up to enter the door, however, the slight sound of tiny particles spilling down as a large mass made her stop in her tracks. As the sound became louder, so did the wrathful Lord Creamiscle.

Louder and louder the noise grew and soon it echoed in the dark throne room. Bon Bon could not figure out what exactly was that sound. She made sure that her castle was built solid with all sorts of sugary confections and candies. There was no way that it would allow leakage to enter inside. But whatever this was, it found its way in. Her fingers then brushed against the leakage – it felt like sand, or perhaps, sugar. Bon Bon rubbed her thumb and index finger together and licked them.

It tasted salty.

The lights flickered back on. Their eyes strained at the light. As their sight adjusted, they found themselves in a room filled with a deeply harsh red color. Pouring from the cracks of the walls, mouse holes, and every nook and cranny were streams of salt, writhing and slithering across the marble floor. They gathered like snakes, coming together towards the center where the dazzled Lord Creamsicle stood. The salt stirred and shifted into coils, making its way up at his ankles, wrapping around his legs and slowly up his waist. The orange-flavored noble yelped, swiping away at the sentient coils but to no avail. The more he panicked, the harder they clung onto him, scratching at his frozen flesh. In doing so, Lord Creamiscle began to feel an excruciating sensation as the spiral of salt melted into his body like acid on wood. Holes began to form, some small, some bigger, giving passageways for the salt to consume his cream-filled insides. Bon Bon watched in horror as her “suitor” screamed in agony, grabbing a hold of his stomach, completely at the mercy of this gut-wrenching terror. His screams then became silent as he felt himself beginning to vomit. He could not hold it back, and as he puked, a long, large sodium-filled arm emerged from his mouth and clawed into his eye sockets! Lord Creamsicle gagged, helpless as his flesh began to shrivel within seconds. His eyes, nose and tongue melted into a sloppy orange and white goop, as well as his stomach and intestines. His legs gave in; his knees buckled in on themselves. With one finally croak, Lord Creamiscle was no more.

There, in the middle of the throne room, was a drained body covered in a pile of flesh-eating salt. Bon Bon sat in the corner speechless. Such a gruesome death rendered her shocked, if not traumatized. What sort of monstrous substance is this? It was nothing she had ever seen in Sugarland. Sure, there were caramel tar pits, spiky sugar crystal vines, hot chocolate geysers, and even the occasional sudden syrup sinkholes! But nothing, nothing, was ever as horrific as this. Slowly and cautiously, the baroness rose to her feet. She aimed her attention to the nearby door in an attempt to escape the slithering salt. But before she could make one step, the salt loosen their grip on Lord Creamsicle and ventured its way towards her. The snake-like streams suddenly merged altogether, piling themselves higher and higher, morphing themselves into one solid form. It was huge, almost taking up the entire space of the room as it grew two massive arms and one giant head. Its features then became clearer; a sinister grin with sharp teeth, a long pointy nose, and a pair of venomous yellow eyes. Bon Bon could try and leave, but the sheer size of this salty monster made it impossible. She gulped. Is this the end for the Baroness of Sugarland?

The monster soften his smile and lowered himself down, just slightly hovering over Bon Bon. His expression turned pitiful. He gently raised his hand and lifted her chin up with one single finger. Fear was written all over Bon Bon's face. “A thousand apologies, milady.” the monster sighed, “I could not help but hear you from afar. You were in trouble, and I had to help.” Bon Bon blinked in surprise. “And, I am deeply sorry for that... rather violent display. But Lord Creamsicle had it coming.” Bon Bon's eyebrows furrowed. She opened her mouth to speak, almost hesitating to respond. “Saltbaker...?” she replied, recognizing his voice. The monster smiled sweetly, “Ah, so you have heard of me?”

“Chef Saltbaker, I... How...?”

“I understand your confusion. I would be too. You see, my dear, I am not what I used to be so many years ago. I had become a creature; one that feeds to satiate a ravenous hunger. Many fear the likes of me. But I beg of you to not be afraid.”

“I... Thank you, Saltbaker.”

“You are very welcome, Baroness. Before I go, I noticed that you had a small taste of salt. If you don't mind, may I... have a small taste of sweetness?”

Bon Bon shivered at his question. A part of her wanted to refuse and run away. But a part of her followed the rules of decency and wanted to give him the respect he deserved. She went with the latter, nodding her head at him with a shy grin. With a gentlemanly smile, Chef Saltbaker gently held her hand and planted a small kiss. The baroness blushed. He then turned her hand to expose her wrist, the veins poking through her pink skin. Chef Saltbaker brushed his lips against her veins, his tongue delicately savoring its flavor with one long, salivating lick. “Mmmm... Strawberry. My favorite flavor~” he hummed, gently placing his other hand over hers, “From this night forth, I will never 'dessert' you.” Chef Saltbaker winked.

The lights flickered again.