Information



Chocolait
Legacy Name: Chocolait


The Sweetheart Harvester
Owner: Camille

Age: 9 years, 6 months, 3 weeks

Born: October 15th, 2014

Adopted: 8 years, 4 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: December 10th, 2015

Statistics


  • Level: 9
     
  • Strength: 20
     
  • Defense: 22
     
  • Speed: 13
     
  • Health: 15
     
  • HP: 10/15
     
  • Intelligence: 10
     
  • Books Read: 10
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Candy Taster


I walk along as a tiny droplet in a sea of children. A sea which flows in an almost uniform yet chaotic manner. Shoes being stomped on by other shoes and students being shoved by other students, it’s the kind of atmosphere you’d expect from a middle school field trip. Wild and unsympathetic boys trying to amuse themselves by laughing at the wretched fortune of others.

“Settle down! Elijah don’t-“

Behind the ‘supervisor’ was a tall and delicate wooden stand. Swirl carvings flared out of the bottom, the only part which seemed to be supportive of its structure. On top of the unstable flat surface was an object, quite small, that was enclosed by a miniature glass dome. What is that? My vision can only go as far as to decipher that the object is a dark brown with a matte texture. Its colour is washed out by the wooden stand it is placed on, the bronze-like walls it is surrounded by and the dirt that is vining out of the crevices of the room. This place isn’t the only filthy thing I’m seeing. Rickety Ronny looks like he hasn’t showered for days, oh and look at that, his hair is starting to develop a thin glossy film. How attractive. He really cannot walk in a straight line, he’s going off on a tangent once again… he looks like he’s about to hit that stand-“DON’T YOU DARE KNOCK THAT OVER!”

Just like that, Rickety Ronny snapped back into reality. Ah for once, a supervisor that is actually doing their job.

‘”Perhaps we’ve given you the wrong idea. We have rules and restrictions in this room. Yes you may be as loud as you want and be as obnoxious to others but let’s get things straight. Do not touch this artefact. Simply by looking at it, you will be tempted to open it but when that does happen, DO NOT EAT THE CHOCOLAIT. I cannot stress how important this is. Punishment will immediately take effect one this delicacy is chewed. ARE WE ABSOLUTELY CLEAR?”Heads turn to each other and murmur a billion different words. I stole a few sneaky glances and hear a few distinct words. Glutton. Chubbs. Fatty. The hazy noises are broken by a single chuckle which lead to a train of laughter. The teachers try to calm the crowd down and move along as they direct the children to another room. I’m left trailing behind trying to hide my eyes and concealing my true thoughts.

“Hello chunky! Did you hear what she said? Don’t eat it! Don’t eat it! HAHAHAHA”

I gave him a blank stare. To stop him from getting any ideas.

“I dare you to go stand next to that chocolait, and, wait for it…… try not to eat it!”If anyone was going to eat that piece of filth it would be Gross Gary. It was obviously a silly dare but what the heck. It’s not like this trip is going to get any better so I might as well take on a challenge.

“Deal. If I make it out alive, you have to eat that thing”

He gave me a nod. From there, I walk my way into the middle of the room. Closer and closer, I can smell it. The strong scent of cocoa cleared through my nose and all the way to my mind. I feel reenergized and renewed, empty, vulnerable. My mouth has cleared its palette, it has no memory of what I just ate 30 minutes ago or what cheese tastes like. I feel significantly lighter.

I see its perfect half moon shape. No cracks, just a smooth surface. A slight touch will make a dent. The glass dome is squeaky clean, you can tell it’s never been touched before. Do I dare touch it? No. Yes. Maybe. I take the glass away. There it is, lying in its pure state. All the muscles in my body feel like they’re bursting with every pulse that passes. A ticking bomb about to explode. An itch ready to be relieved. An uncomfortable sensation which can only be stopped by a satisfying bite.

Contact with my skin already feels like I’m halfway through ending this torture. I place it near my mouth, it touches my lips and then a sharp bite. With every chew, the chocolait is flattened out without leaving any clumps in my mouth. I digest it smoothly without choking on it. Well, it wasn’t as sinful as I imagined.

Wait. I’ve eaten the chocolait but why do I still feel like a spazz. Every flail and flop of my arms doesn’t end this sensation. The itch remains unscratched. What is it that I want? I must have more of this chocolait. To get my mind off of my horrid physicality for a second, even just a second.

Chocolait always wins. Always. I always lose. Always.

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