“Who is that guy?”

“I don’t know.”

Riel pestered Lynda about junior. He most probably saw that ShareWiw post.

By now, it should've already been taken down. But, for those that saw it, it was too late to rectify the damage.

The post blew up when the elf who this junior was fond of– allegedly– commented on some unnecessary things.

“Hey, tell him to meet me, Lynda.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s related to you.”

“What if he tries something on you?”

Lynda thought about his words.

“I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Lynda had already given that junior a cold shoulder by ignoring his message.

“Come on..”

His persistence was vexing. Lynda knew that Riel had a thing for her. Annoyed, she pulled her messaging panel up and tossed it to Riel like passing a bone to a dog. She needed to study, and he’s being a drag.

“What the.. he said this to you?”

“What? What?!”

“I want to see too!”

Lynda’s other friends squeezed in between to catch a glimpse of the message. Her knuckles were becoming white from the force of her clenched fist.

[“Can we meet up?”]

[“Sure. Where? What time?”]

[“You’re having exams today, correct? After the exam, can you spare some time at 12?”]

[“Can do.”]

[“4I. I’ll meet you there.”]

“Hey. Did I ever say you can use my account?”

“I’m going to talk to this guy for a bit. I’ll tell him off for you.”

“...”

That junior is a weirdo anyways.

[“Is this something you can discuss in your class?”]

[“Not my class. We need to meet up first don’t we?”]

[“Okay. Will see you then. And good luck with your exam.”]

Lynda felt her stomach lurch at the last message.

===

It’s not a joke.

Returning home Lynda couldn’t help but recall the earnest look in his eyes.

Is that person dumb or did he know something she didn’t? The more she thought about it, the more puzzling it became.

What if she was jinxing herself?

One of the symptoms for someone suffering from NtBM is speedy wound recovery.

Lynda inadvertently went to the kitchen to look at the row of knives sitting snugly inside the wood block. There were cameras in the house, but she could always just tell Cuue to shut them off. Such was especially true when her father, mother and aether were doing ‘that’ in their room. They can be quite loud at times.

Those were sleepless nights.

“Should I?”

She recalled the night when she was bitten by the mosquito.

“Cuue, can you search for information regarding the transmission method of NtBM?”

[Methods of transmissions are limited to blood-to-blood or saliva-to-blood contact. Most causes of NtBM are caused by hapstance assaults. Saliva-to-saliva contact does not transmit the disease.]

“Anything more?”

[There are cases when patients become infected without any explanation. These victims make up a small minority of cases.]

“What are the chances that I’m infected?”

[Very unlikely. Though, if you’re feeling curious, WHO does recommend that anyone suspecting themselves to be infected should be tested immediately.]

“But even if I get tested, there’s no cure.”

That person would be quarantined. The mortality rate for the disease is 100 percent. And the only treatment for it was palliative care.

If the infected person bites into another person and drinks their blood, they would only be able to sustain another month before the urge comes again. Even if they manage to find a second victim, he, she or xe will die during their second feeding.

“Should I or should I not..”

Should she, or should she not cut herself to see if the wound would heal quickly?

“No. I must be insane.”

Frightened by her train of thought, she shook her head. What if that junior casted some sort of black magic on her?

“Damn it. What did you do to me?”

===

Days had passed since the incident with the junior. Nothing unusual had happened. She still attended class the same and came to the baking club to make her pastries.

Today, she was attempting to make a nice fluffy bread with the insides mimicking the web-like consistency of cotton candy. The secret of creating this sort of bread was the ratio of the dough mixture and quality of ingredients.

She tossed the dough onto the cutting board and began kneading.

“Ouch.”

She was slicing the dough into pieces when she accidently cut her finger.

“Did you cut yourself?”

Daniel was making chocolate-almond cookies.

“It seems so.”

It was still bleeding. She ran her finger under the tap.

When she pulled it away from the flow of water, she noticed that the wound had.. disappeared.

“Do you need a plaster?” Daniel tossed the cookie dough into the oven and dusted the flour off his hands.

“No, it’s a shallow cut, it’s not bleeding.”

“That's fortunate.”

Lynda’s reply was calm; her heart was racing.

She came in front of the cutting board and held the knife in an unsuspecting manner. Motioning in a way that made it look as if she was slicing the dough normally, she cut her finger again. Some blood dripped, she quickly rolled the dough to hide the stain.

Daniel was humming ‘grow well’ to his perfect cookies and didn’t notice what Lynda had done.

There was no one inside the baking club besides the two of them today.

“No way..” Lynda looked at her finger. It took only a few seconds for the wound to close.

She gulped. Turning to Daniel, the first thing she noted was his neck– his veins.

She shook her head.

It can’t be possible. There’s no way, absolutely no way.

Lynda denied what she had seen and continued making the bread.

===

“Good morning.”

“M-Morning..”

Lynda greeted her friends meekly and made her way to her seat. She didn’t know why there was this uncomfortable sense of guilt and confusion welling up inside of her.

“Did you prepare the report for the club?”

Emily, another member of the baking club asked.

“I sent it to Mister Cain last night.”

“Thank you very much!”

Emily squeezed her way into Lynda’s seat.

Lynda felt light headed.

“Are you alright? You look pale today.”

“I’m feeling kind of sick.”

Lynda was awestruck at the sight of the faintly visible veins on Emily’s neck.

She looks delicious.

What about the nanomachine caused this urge of thirst? Lynda didn’t know. All the information she read online didn’t explain how such desires manifested. Nor was there a remedy for this odd incongruence besides taking blood.

She had already come to terms with the fact that she may be an NtBM victim. The symptoms were already showing. It wouldn’t be long before she loses her mind.

“Emily, can you leave me alone? I feel tired.”

“Oh, alright.”

Emily hopped off, Lynda laid on her table. She took a seat in front, staring at the terribly unusual Lynda until time came for class.

[“Avner, help.”]

===

dotturndot: Foreshadowing events to come! There’s a lot of odd things going on here. And because this is a light novel styled story, you can expect a lot of situations to not make any sense. What is the significance of The Seraph in the world of Cookie Cult? You’ll see soon enough.

Also, I don’t know why but I took an entire hour just to edit these first two chapters. Was it brain farts or did the first draft turn out so bad I had to spend so much brainpower to fix it?

Future me during the 2nd pass of editing: Yes, it was that bad.