The Cake

mystery about a cake and friendship

She was working hard and was very focused, when suddenly she got distracted by the scent of something baking in the air. At first she thought nothing of it, but as the smells of chocolate filled her apartment she began to wonder who was making dessert. She was sure she was alone. It seemed an unusual time of day to be baking on a Friday morning. The feeling that something might be going on in her kitchen had not occurred to her, before her friend in a text message suggested it. Funny enough the thought did not bring with it any anxiety to her. Instead, she found it strange that there could be someone baking in her kitchen.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she find out before or after the chocolate cake was finished? She began to wonder if the cake would be worth the wait; it did smell very good. It would be nice to see how it came out. Who was the stranger in the kitchen and why weren’t they using their own oven? Also, why did they presume it was okay to bake in her kitchen. Did they bring their own ingredients or just raid her supplies? The thought was a little concerning, yet, she did nothing about it.

Part of her wanted to investigate but then the other part wanted the cake!

She decided to be patient and then call the police with her concerns! After all then she would hopefully have tasty evidence to enjoy. As she waited, she hoped the kitchen wouldn’t be a huge mess for her to clean up later. For she was sure that the police, if they came wouldn’t help in the least.

As she waited, she realized that there was no noise actually coming from her kitchen. None actually, so quiet, that it was concerning. Curiosity, got the better of her and so she got up to investigate the situation. She slowly grabbed a large book and continued to make her way near the kitchen.

When she turned the corner, she was actually amazed…

For right in front of her on her spotless counter was none other than a three-tier chocolate cake; and no one around. She set the book down and then proceeded to examine the cake. It looked like an ordinary cake at first observation, but as she got closer it became obvious it was anything but. The cake looked more like it came from a dream. Just not hers, it had faint swirls and looked at first if they were random. However the closer she got she saw a pattern emerge, she was sure it wasn’t there a minute ago. The pattern which seemed to move right before her eyes was on the side of the middle layer. Some of the swirls started to pull apart and started forming strange shapes; some looked familiar, almost elementary like triangles, while others were more unusual shapes.

With amusement and in pure anticipation for what was next she looked on. Now many might be scared of the current events which were unfolding in front of her eyes, yet she remained calm. It was fascinating to her, like a scientist experimenting or an Archaeologist exploring. She had a strong desire to reach out and touch the frosting, to see if it was in fact real. For everything was starting to feel like a strange dream.

Yet, something told her not to. Probably her common sense more than just intuition, although definitely a combination of the two.

Her hand hovered just inches from the frosting, trembling ever so slightly as she weighed her options. The cake pulsed faintly—as though it had a heartbeat of its own. A shimmer, almost imperceptible, ran along the surface of the swirls, and for a fleeting moment she thought she saw her own reflection wink back at her.
She froze.

The air had shifted. No longer did it carry the cozy warmth of chocolate baking, but instead a subtle hum—like the low resonance of a cello string vibrating somewhere unseen. She realized then that the silence she had noticed earlier wasn’t ordinary quiet. It was thick, as though the whole world beyond her kitchen had gone still, waiting for her to make a move.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, shattering the tension. She fumbled it out with relief, only to find another message from her friend:
“Don’t eat it. Whatever you do, don’t touch the cake.”
She blinked. How could her friend possibly know? Her eyes darted to the corners of the kitchen, half-expecting to find a hidden camera, but there was nothing—only the cake, steady and luminous.
The swirls shifted again. This time the shapes aligned into a more deliberate pattern, a kind of script. She couldn’t read the symbols, but her mind supplied the sense of meaning anyway: Choose.
Her throat tightened.

Was the cake offering her something? A bargain? A key? A trap?
And yet, curiosity burned stronger than fears. She leaned in close, whispering under her breath as though the cake could hear her:
“What happens if I do?”

The hum deepened, vibrating through her chest, and suddenly the cake just vanished into thin air, leaving behind a silver key that looked ancient and ornate. Her pulse quickened. She could step back, call the police again, pretend none of this had happened… or she could follow where the chocolate dream wanted to take her.

Chapter 1

Gillian just stared at the key for a moment then cautiously picked it up and studied it. Just then her friend Lyn called back and this time asked “Are you ready?” “What on earth are you talking about Lyn?” Gillian responded. Then Lyn hung up quickly and before she had time to say more, the door bell rang! What’s going on thought Gillian. She checked her door camera and was suprised to see Lyn standing under an umbrella. Gillian had not noticed it had started raining while she was in the kitchen.

Gillian opened the door and was nearly pulled over by Lyn! “We have to go! No time to explain yet! You have the key right? Lyn asked but knew the answer somehow. “Yes, in my pocket!” Replied Gillian, who was grateful she was not in her pajamas nor underwear. She lucky was in old jeans and a long sleeve shirt with sneakers. While Lyn looked more polished as if she had planed for an outing, she had a pack-pack with a water bottle attached. “What’s going on Lyn?” Gillan shouted as Lyn barely let her shut her front door and pulled her into a jog. “No time! We must hurry!” Lyn replied and only ran faster in the now pouring rain! Gillian was less than thrilled and by now getting soaked by the down pour. She was getting angry.

Then Gillian suddenly stopped in her tracks and nearly made the two of them fall. “Where are we going? She asked. Lyn replied “We’re almost there! We have to get there before they close!” Something in Gillians gut said she should trust Lyn and so she let Lyn lead her once again in the rain…..