Finally got something for the First Headmaster! I don’t know what his tags are but I have this!
TW: yandere, so like… forceful imprisonment and violence. Also implied and just outright gaslighting and memory manipulation
It’s always so cold in the Academy infirmary…
Large windows make it easy to see outside, but none of them open, meaning the air is always stale and the cold makes it just that much worse.
Tonight is no different than every other night for the past three months that (C/F) Cookie has been here. It’s cold, it’s nearly silent, and thin, slick blankets of the infirmary don’t help one bit. It feels as though the night itself is holding its breath in hopes that it won’t be noticed.
Scowling at their hands holding the smooth fabric, they sigh.
They hate this place. It feels like a prison. They hardly understand why they’re here, in a lone bed at the end of the long room, when they feel fine.
Their supposed accident was three months ago—according to their caretaker, they fell out of a tree and split their head open. But they’ve healed. They feel fine now. He’s keeping them here for the fun of it, they’re sure of it.
Speaking of him, he's been suspiciously absent today. There’s been no insistence that they need to take medicine that isn’t doing anything; no sweet smiles that they’re positive mean something else; no delicate touches of feigned examination or sugar coated lies to make them think that maybe, just maybe, there is actually something wrong. Just this constant, silent dread that always hangs over them.
Throwing the blanket onto the floor, (C/F) Cookie finally gets up and heads for the door out into the hall. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, but with him gone then maybe—just maybe—it will work.
The doors open with a creak that feels way louder than it likely was. Peeking out, they don’t see him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t there. He’s probably spelled the door to let him know when it’s opened or something like that.
One step into the hallway, then two. They check around themself again, but still don’t see any sign of him. Holding their breath, they run for the exit.
They knew it hadn’t always been like this, but they didn’t know what had changed. After hitting their head pieces of their memory were distorted or missing.
As much as he insisted it was just their injury, they never really believed him. What they forgot just felt too specific. That scramble of illusion and memory can’t be a coincidence. He keeps saying it will go away when they’re well, but they don’t believe him—not when he’s so unconcerned about it.
When they reach the doors they stop and look back, expecting him to be there, but he isn’t. It’s just them. So without wasting another second they throw the doors open and run out into the gardens.
They knew these paths. Hazy memories of traveling them with him direct them along their way and eventually they make it to the deserted town’s streets. Streetlights illuminate their path forward as they wander along the paths.
Unease digs into their dough with a sense of déjà vu for something they don’t remember. As (C/F) Cookie keeps going they see his shadow around street corners, masked by the darkness.
When they reach the woods at the edge of town they pause.
Have they stood here before like this? Listening to their own shaky breaths as they try to calm their racing heart—to assure themself they’ve escaped the cage he was keeping them in. They almost feel like they have.
They remember vaguely… he started changing. He became more snappy and accusatory. Tender moments were replaced with spiteful tricks. They grew sick of it. Had they tried to leave as well?
Following the path, they let their instincts guide them. There’s something here they can’t forget…
They step off the path as a spell circle glows beneath their feet. Starting to run, they feel a familiar end drawing closer and veer off course again…
…Only to be bashed in the head by the headmaster’s spiked staff.
“Oh, silly (C/F) Cookie!” He lifts them with one arm, opening a hole in the shadows to take them back where they started. “Looks like you hurt your head again! You really ought to stay in the infirmary.”
They groan weakly, vision blurred by the pain in their head.
“That marks another failure I suppose.” He sighs, before snickering, “Cookie minds really are something else.” Resting them on the bed he peels a roll of bandages. “Ah well, I always find a way in the end! Especially for my favorite little helper!”
They watch in disgust as this beast smiles while writing a note for himself. His blue eyes catch theirs and sharpen in delight.
He abandons his writing to lean over their bed. “Say. You ever wonder what a love potion tastes like?”