They have me surrounded--hundreds of them. They pile on top of each other, standing like giants. Oh, like leviathans and behemoths of Bible times!
They stare down at me with pride as if waiting for certain victory, waiting for my inevitable surrender. I shake and tremble. Never have I seen so many of them at any one time.
I shake and tremble more--like when one gets a panic attack. You overbreathe, you sweat, you know the end is near.
All around me people are waiting in line. All around me and just like me, people have succumbed to the sweet temptation that brings them death. Yes, death by Chocolate, by Blueberry, by Mud Pie.
I am in Calea, the mecca of sweets in Bacolod. It's the last day of 2009 and I'm here to pick up the Oreo Cheesecake I ordered weeks ago. I stare at skyscrapers of cake boxes like I would whenever I'm in Ayala Avenue in Makati.
"Oh, that pillar of cake boxes over there, that must be 'The PBCom Tower'," I say to myself while looking at the tallest pile of them all.
I overhear an elderly woman saying she came all the way from Iloilo just to experience the miracle of flavors here. Back in my mind I think: Ah yes, the final pilgrimage to the temple of sweets. She's here to die.
True enough, we are all here ready to be bludgeoned by a mass of Sans Rival, smothered in caramel, and savagely slaughtered by sugar and all its relatives. I am convinced that if superb taste and quality could kill, Calea cakes would top the NBI's Most Wanted list.
I pick up my box now.
Whew!
Inside this box is my killer.
It looks innocent and sweet if you look at it closely. But, yeah, most serial killers are like that, they say.
Well, if that's what truly awaits me, guess I don't have much of a choice. Sweet Death.
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