Cupcake — Cannibal

Naturally, Leo baked.

A high-pitched, muffled voice screamed from the pastry. cannibal cupcake

But people started vanishing. A stockbroker. A crossing guard. The vegan baker next door—though no one missed her. Naturally, Leo baked

The cupcake giggled. It opened its mouth—an impossible, yawning maw that stretched far wider than the physics of a cupcake should allow. Rows of tiny, needle-like sugar crystals lined its throat. Leo baked. A high-pitched

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.