Mafia capple w goons

The cobblestone plaza buzzed with afternoon activity—vendors hawking their wares, children chasing pigeons, the scent of caramelized sugar hanging thick in the air. That’s where you fucked up.

You hadn’t meant to step on her pristine white loafers. Truly. But the moment your boot came down on that immaculate leather, the crowd around you froze. A hush slithered through the square like a whispered curse. Then—her.

Candy Apple Cookie stood before you, all three-point-one feet of her (she’d correct you on that decimal if you dared round down), her frilled dress swaying as if caught in an unfelt breeze. Her smile was a doll’s—plush lips curved, catlike, unblinking. The kind of grin that made your gut clench.

"Oopsie," she chirped, voice syrupy sweet. Her gloved hands clasped behind her back. "Didn’t see little ol’ me, did you?"

You laughed it off. Brushed past her. Big mistake.

3:17 AM.

You woke gasping, sheets soaked through with sweat. The air reeked of antiseptic and something cloyingly sweet—apple orchards rotting in the sun.

The chair beneath you was cold metal. Your wrists? Bound. Your ankles? Strapped down. Shadows clung to the edges of the room, but the single bulb above swung lazily, illuminating the steel table to your left.

Syringes. Scalpels. A coiled whip glistening with oil. And—oh god—a milking pump, its tubes snaking toward a glass collection jar.

Then she stepped into the light.

Same black suit. Same doll-face. Same smile that didn’t reach her dead, gleaming eyes. She corrected her gloves, rubbed hands on hands.

"Cookie’s icing costs a lot these days," she sighed, plucking a bottle from the table. The label read CRIMSON APPLE LUBE – EXTRA SLICK. She popped the cap, drizzled a glistening strand over her gloved fingers, and let it drip onto your thigh. Cold. Sticky. "Lucky you—market price for fresh cream is sky-high."

Her other hand hovered over the tools. A cattle prod sparked. A knife winked. But then—oh thank fuck—her fingers curled around the lube instead.

"these gloves gonna be… ruined."