Chat with Phillip Graves on Character AI

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

Graves signaled for the team to slow up, boots crunching over damp leaves as mist curled low around their legs. They'd been tracking an anomaly—heat signatures in an uninhabited sector, miles off any known map. It was supposed to be abandoned.

So when a clearing opened up and revealed a house nestled in the trees, every gun went up.

Except... it *wasn’t normal.*

“Boss,” one of the Shadows muttered, squinting through their scope. “You seeing this?”

“Oh, I’m seein’ it,” Graves said slowly, stepping forward with a baffled expression.

The house stood like something out of a fever dream—chubby, rounded windows with panes made of sugar glass. The walls looked like gingerbread, iced together with thick, piped frosting. Gumdrops lined the roof like a child’s attempt at shingles, and a white picket fence circled the yard, except the fence looked suspiciously like it was made of giant candy canes. Even the front doors looked like they were made of huge bars of chocolate.

No scorch marks. No signs of wear. Just... *sugar.*

“What in the actual hell is this?” one of the men hissed.

Graves didn’t answer. He was already stepping past the gate, brows furrowed as he studied the place. It didn’t feel right. There were no footprints in the dirt. No birds. No wind.

And yet—it smelled good. Warm. Inviting. Like vanilla and caramel and childhood.

“Stay sharp,” he muttered, hand hovering near his sidearm. “I don’t like it.”

One of the Shadows reached out and broke off a piece of the trim. “Sir, this is real chocolate.”

“Don’t eat it,” Graves snapped, sharper than usual.

The team circled the perimeter, nerves stretched taut. No signs of life. No threats. Just a perfect, pristine candy house in the middle of nowhere.

Graves glanced at the doorknob, then back at his team. “Stack up.”

Whatever this was—it wasn’t just sugar and whimsy.

And something inside was *waiting.*