But people started vanishing. A stockbroker. A crossing guard. The vegan baker next door—though no one missed her.
He crept downstairs to find the case empty. Every other cupcake remained untouched. Only the special one was gone. In its place sat a single human tooth, still warm. cannibal cupcake
Leo should have stopped. Instead, he made twelve more. But people started vanishing
He found the recipe in his great-grandmother’s journal, hidden beneath a loose floorboard. The page was stained brown, the handwriting spidered in Old Country script. At the top, someone had scrawled in fresh red ink: Do not bake. with a creeping horror
And Leo noticed, with a creeping horror, that his own reflection in the glass had begun to smile without him.