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About Traditional Art / Hobbyist Member Hannah22/Female/United States Group :icongt-story-tellers: gt-story-tellers
 
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HBPen
Hannah
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
United States
"Let all the skilled artisans among you come, and make everything the Lord has commanded." Exodus 35:10

I don't have a preferred medium of art, I like to dabble in everything, BUT that being said, writing tends to be less frustrating to my perfectionist OCD lol. I have a million and one stories waiting to be written but I'm desperately trying to get this ONE finished, so that all my work can start to support me. I'm starting to try to not be such a perfectionist and see my art the way other's see it- so that I can take commissions and get the job done without becoming emotionally involved haha

I'm taking free commissions right now, I'd just absolutely be so appreciative of kind donations to my paypal account, to fund a missions trip this coming June. I've been charged not to talk about the trip over social media because it could endanger our chances of getting into the country, but if you have any questions, I can talk about it through email ;D So keep me in your prayers!

I really like g/t I just wish there was cleaner g/t- so, instead of just wishing, I hope to make my own. It's what I always do anyway. I see a movie or a book and I like the story or character so much I have to make one of my own the way I would have done it. I don't do vore, though I try to remain realistic while not being too graphic. I'm not going to write about pervs- it's just not happening.

I'm a Christian, no I was not brain-washed. I'm a Homeschooler, no my parents do not keep me in a closet. I'm a redhead, no I do no- OH WAIT. Yes I do have a temper.

Do Christians annoy you? Well, mean people annoy me. Tell you what, you can talk trash to me, if I can talk Christ to you. Fair is fair. ;]

Please do not try to talk to me through personal notes, unless I know you and have met you in person. I'd like to think anything you have to say to me can be seen by the thousands of other deviants. ;]

I love this! The following is written by CheyennevanStrange cheyennevanstrange.deviantart.…

Dear Acquaintances,

To the Sin family, of the House of Sin, in the Providence of Flesh, in the Kingdom of Satan:
Arrogance,
Pride,
Greed,
Hate,
Gluttony,
Lust,
Envy,
Sloth,
Occult,
And extended family

Consider this a formal declaration of war.

Goodbye,

- A Slave of Sin Saved by Grace

Current Residence: The Moon.
Favourite genre of music: Every genre you can think of [in the Christian catagory] EXCEPT Metal with ONLY screaming. lol
Favourite style of art: Anything that comes to mind.
MP3 player of choice: none, MP4 player lol, ipod!
Favourite cartoon character: Pooh Bear all the way. hahaha
Personal Quote: For if God is with is, who can be a against us? Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.- AP

My blog: losingmyselftogod.blogspot.com…
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Come 'ere by HBPen
Come 'ere
Wren, Chapter 10. To God be the glory, He is the artist, I am only the pen.
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Wren by HBPen
Wren
My Borrower, Wren, from Chapters 9 and 10 of my g/t. To God be the glory! He is the artist; I am only the pen.
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I scramble back, pushing myself as far from his incoming reach as possible, frantically backpedaling, even though I'm already pressed into his hand at my back. “You're alright,” he says distractedly, not hesitating for a moment. He takes hold of my good leg, pulling me out into his palm on my back. I scramble to sit up, panic heavy on my chest and my entire being trembling with terror. “You're alright, Honey,” he says , glancing up at my face then back at my leg. I pull my good leg away from him and prop myself up on my elbows, craning my neck to watch him like a hawk- though a mouse better describes my position. He pulls back, reaching to his left and pulling a huge magnifying glass on a metal arm out between us.  He pushes it closer to me and I flatten myself into his hand pathetically as he peers through it. His face is smaller through the glass lens. My lungs labor for air and my heart pounds painfully behind my ribs. He glances distractedly at my face then back to my leg, before suddenly double-taking and locking me in his sights.
His mouth is cracked open and his eyes search my face, his lids fluttering as silent thoughts pass through his gaze and his brow vaguely knits. I swallow, his gaze heavy and consuming. I strive to calm my breathing, emotion balling in my throat and tears threatening behind my eyes. I shift my gaze from his; I need to get a hold of myself. I sneak a glance at him, my skin heating and then instantly paling beneath his perusal. His mouth is closed now, his lips pressed together, the cigarette still between them, and his brow furrowed deeply. He snorts softly, yet clearly irritated; smoke puffs out his nostrils, cascading around the magnifying glass and fogging it. He groans, curses, and leans back. Suddenly, he dumps me off his palm and onto the table or desk he'd had his arm on. I scramble back, scanning it, completely cleared and enclosed with a cupboard on both sides and above, a short, white tube-light shining in my eyes.
He plucks the nasty, smoking thing from his lips, roughly shoving back the magnifying glass and waving the smoke away. I can't help but flinch and shrink, certain he's going to hit me. I backpedal until his grey, blue eyes lock onto me, stopping me in my tracks. He pulls his gaze away, annoyance and anger in their depths, as he flattens his lips and leans over his elbows, his chest right up against the edge of the desk. He glances at the desk's wooden surface beside his left elbow, and firmly presses the end of the cigarette into it. The searing reaches my ears, as I watch the smoke rise up from the wood. I swallow; that could easily be me. I grimace, shoving back the feeling of fire on my stomach and the image of melting flesh. Timidly, I raise my stumbling gaze up his towering form- and that's less than half of him. He drops the smothered cigarette where it is, props his arms across the desk in front of him, and eyes me. I falter under his gaze, as the silence draws out between us, my lungs laboring tremulously. “Can you stand?”
I flinch at his voice, even though it's low and calm. I blink at him. He still looks irritated, his lips flat and one brow slightly cocked expectantly. He nods at me, his brow barely rising and his lips vaguely pursed. I glance at the still glowing cigarette beside his elbow and back at his cold gaze. I sit up, climbing to my knees and starting up on my good leg. On my feet, I test my injury, putting some weight on my left leg. It hasn't been hurting, but I still expect to feel a shooting pain up my shin. I gingerly step on my injured leg. Nothing. I feel nothing- no pain whatsoever. “No pain?” he says, startling me back to reality; I watch him warily. He raises his brow at me and I suddenly realize he asked me a question. Panic grips my insides and I shake my head frantically, stepping back. “It can't be broken then-” he mumbles, frowning at my leg, “Come 'ere.” My gut swims, my blood running cold, and my insides shrivel. My knees almost give away and I notice my white-knuckled grip on my shirt, as I wring the fabric in my fists. My mouth hangs open and I want to deny him, but fear of the consequences chases away my voice. He looks at my face and raises his brow out me again, but his expression isn't bored. My core trembles leaving me feeling more vulnerable than ever before. “Come 'ere,” he repeats quietly, gesturing me forward with his head.
I close my mouth, swallowing, I know I need to obey, but my feet won't move. I glance at the smothered and squished cigarette beside him. He sighs irately, leaning back and then leering forward on his elbows, “Look, I'm getting paid to treat your injury- I'm tryin' t' give you the chance to be treated like a person -so give me the same benefit and quit looking at me like I'm a monster- kay?” I blink at him, trying to catch my breath, swimming in confusion. He studies me expectantly, irritation consuming his features, as I stand with trembling knees, lamely before him. “I'm gonna treat that leg a' yours one way or another,” he says dryly, boredom and annoyance dripping from his voice, “so if you'd like your personal space I suggest you hop to it.” Panic seizes me and I stifle a gasp, holding myself, tightly gripping my sleeves and trying to gauge the depth of his threat. I don't want to test him. If he wanted to, he could pick me up now without my consent. I grimace, forcing myself to take a step forward, each step after easier than the last. I keep my eyes on the ground, my insides shrinking as I close the distance between us.
I stop, catching sight of his arm, only a few inches from me- I went too far. I take a couple steps back, my arms clenched tightly over my gut. I draw my gaze slowly up his towering form, but stop halfway up his chest, my stomach turning; I look back to the floor. I can see the hair on his arms, the ligaments and muscles rolling under his skin, as he suddenly moves. I can't help but stumble back a step, before I catch myself and freeze, clenching my eyes shut, my head turned to the right. I pant through my nose, the smell of smoke assailing me, and I peel open my eyes, spotting the smoking cigarette across the desk. I glance in front of me, his arms are off the counter and he's pulled back slightly, but I can see his torso moving, like he's going to stand. I timidly peer up.
I flinch, shrinking back as he reaches over me, pulling down the magnifying glass and angling it above my head. I shy back, craning my neck to see what he's doing. A gasp escapes me, and flail my arms as I stumble and land on my backside. He glances at me through the glass, his brow furrowing. My lungs labor tremulously with each breath and I notice my fisted arm, drawn up over myself cautiously. I pull my gaze down, avoiding his face. I need to calm down and I can't do that if I keep looking at him, leering over me. I close my eyes, trying to imagine I'm not here. I see his hand flat on the desk to my left, he closes the distance between the desk and himself, the muscles in his hand moving at the slight action. He could crush me; I swallow. He reaches for my leg. I flinch, pulling away, but force myself to stop, my heart pounding and my pulse racing. He starts again, slowly, and it's all I can do not to scramble back. I squeeze my eyes shut and I turn away, a strangled whimper escaping me as his fingertips take hold of my bound leg.
His thumb moves over my shin. I hold myself, hyperventilating, as terror clings to my being and panic rakes into my back. My muscles ache and tremble; I realize I'm holding my breath. He suddenly lets go, moving away from the desk. I raise my eyes slightly, watching him as he turns and takes something from the table on the left. He turns back, pulling himself to the desk and I close my eyes, hugging my right leg against my chest and pressing my forehead against my knee. I flinch as his fingers encompass my leg; I clench a fistful of my shirt in my left hand. “Take that junk off your leg.” I jump as his voice shatters the silence. Warily, I draw my gaze up to the magnifying glass above my head. He peers irately through the lens. I pull my gaze down, taking a breath, and begin to strip my leg of the tissue and toothpicks bound to it. Unease floods me at the sight that materializes, as I unwrap my leg. My once limp and twisted ankle is now straight, strong, and completely healthy looking. My stomach turns with confusion and uncertainty. That's not normal; it's been a day.
I gasp, as he suddenly rubs his thumb over my leg. He mumbles under his breath, “There's not even bruising.” I glance up at him through the glass, his brow knit with focus and confusion. His grip tightens forcefully on my leg, igniting panic in my heart, and I jerk in his grasp. He let's my foot slip from his fingers and I pull my knee up, hugging my leg to my chest. My heart races frantically and my fingertips tremble, as I cast a leery and timid glance up at him, startled and shaken. “Did that hurt?” he asks, peering down at me through the lens, “Or did I just scare you?” My insides shrink with fear and humiliation, as I pull my gaze away fearfully, burying face in my knees and turning away, emotion rising in my throat and drawing tears to my eyes. I bite my lip, beginning to tremble with exhaustion and fear. I don't want to admit it, my stomach twisting and swimming at the truth, but I reluctantly shake my head, wiping my eyes across my shoulder to smother the welling tears. “Should'a known the idiot wouldn't have a clue,” he mumbles to himself.
Shoving back from the desk, he leans over and takes a handful of things off the table on the left. He comes back, closing the distance quickly and dumping the articles on the desk, his huge hands on either side of me. I pull back, unnerved suddenly, glancing cautiously up at him, as his face comes back into view through the magnifying glass. I shrink under his gaze but watch him intently, unease flooding over me and adrenaline surging into my veins. He scans the contents of the pile, his eyes glancing back and forth beside me, racing thoughts passing through his focused and narrowed eyes. He glances at my leg then at the pile and back to my leg; finally he looks up at my face. He almost looks caught off guard, having been lost in his thoughts and actions. “It's not broken- obviously- I'm not sure what he thought he did-” he adds, his brow rising, “that is unless you were just faking it.” Anger and indignation rise in my chest at the suggestion- he demolished my leg- that giant- bully- creep- monster- ! Why would I pretend?!
“Faking- he crushed my leg!” the words leave my mouth in a shout before I can think and I instantly regret them, terror flooding me. I slam my mouth shut, my heart racing and aching with uncertainty, as I lower my gaze suddenly. My lungs quiver with each breath, at the silence dragging in the air.
G/T Escape: A Borrower's Dystopian Chapter 10
CHAPTAH 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEST chapter yet. My fave chapter yet. 

To God be the glory, He's the author; I'm only the pen.

Chapter 1

Chapter 9
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The new being glances at me, his gaze irritated and numb, before turning back to the task at hand. What's he doing? Why is he here? He polishes some metal tool in a crisp, white cloth, his gaze narrowed on his work. The sight makes me nervous, watching the way he handles the utensil mercilessly, polishing away every minuscule blemish. A shiver runs up my spine and my stomach swims; I'm back in the darkness of that towel and my heart stutters with anxiety, as I shove the nightmare-of-a-memory back. I gasp, a frustrated whimper escaping me, as I'm yanked forward by my ankle. The momentum throws me to my back and I scramble up, kicking and pulling at his grip. “Let me go!” I demand, my voice breaking despite the darkness of my tone.
“Or what, Sweetheart?” he asks, taunting me as he lets go. I kick him away, but he only grins, the blows nothing to his huge fingers. He grabs my leg, dragging me out into the center of his palm.
“Don't touch me-” I order, my voice rising with panic and frustration. Suddenly, he pulls me up off his palm and into the air. My breath catches in my throat and my blood runs cold, “n-no- please don't-” My stomach swims, as I swing in his grasp.
“Stop it-!” the other bites. I flinch at the sound running through me and shaking me to the core. “Give it a rest will you.” My heart trembles down to my fingertips and I grip my shirt, holding it over my stomach.
“I'm not paying for your opinion, Ed.” The being- Ed- casts him a cold glance, continuing to scrub the tool in his hand.
“No wonder you're single,” he mumbles, “-if I even have to see her guts on the floor you're paying me triple.”  I stifle a rebellious whimper, trying not to move, as I swallow and shove the image he painted on my eyes away.
“I'm not gonna drop her- not like you have room to talk-” Ed stops, piercing him with a dark gaze. He turns back to his work, putting elbow into his efforts. “So what'll it be, Princess? You gonna be good now?” A shudder runs through me and I grimace, swallowing back a wave of nausea- never. I am just a profit to him, he's not willing to hurt me. So if he can't scare me, what can he do?
“No.” Laughter racks his frame, rumbles through the air, shaking me and turning my stomach. I clench my eyes shut, God, let it be quick-.
“You wanna play that game-” he chuckles, almost tossing me into the air. A cry escapes me and I land in his hand, sick with horror. He turns and I brace myself, sure I'll fly right off his palm. I loose my stomach suddenly, as he begins to dump me off his hand. My heart races and I scramble, clawing for some hold, but I tumble off his palm. I hit a hard surface, pain shooting through my bones and shock raking over my nerves. I'm on a black surface, that had been no more than an inch below his hand. I push myself up, frantically scanning my surroundings. He's already across the room, at the cage. I see the others scrambling back from the door, still wide open, as he reaches in. Blade's words rush back to me, 'Don't put these people in danger.' My heart stops and my head shakes, my mouth hung open but my voice not cooperating. He turns back around with, approaching me in no more than a few steps and towering over me. I crane my neck, beginning to backpedal, the sheer size of him consuming my vision. He sinks to the surface level, an ugly grin on his face. “A little jewel like you can rake in quite a profit, Sweetheart,” he says, raising his clenched fist. “Him on the other hand-” he says, plucking up the Borrower from his palm; my heart stops, Tack. “He's really kinda useless to me.” Tack sobs, hysterical and curled up in ball. My insides twists with nausea and desperation,
“No don't-! don't hurt him-” I beg, my voice breaking with helplessness and my head shaking, “I'll do it- I'll do anything you want-” Even as the words leave my mouth, I scramble back from him, horror washing over me at the promise. I can't- why should Tack- or any of them- get hurt instead of me?
“You're not lying to me are you?” he moves Tack, dangling from his fingers by the back of his shirt, out over the ground. My heart jumps and I gasp,
“No-! No I swear- please just put him back-” He doesn't move, eyeing me, a disgusting smirk on face. “I promise I'll be good-” I say, my voice quivering at my weakness- my helplessness, “I'll do what you want- please-”
“Alright, Sweetie,” he turns, taking Tack's small body in his hand and putting him back into the cage, “Whatever you want.” He doesn't even bother closing the door. My body trembles with each breath, my muscles aching and I notice tears stream down my face. I wipe my nose across my arm, fury flooding me, but it doesn't last. He comes back, reaching for me and I shrink, curling up and vainly shielding myself from him. He roughly grabs me, flipping me over into his palm. I refuse to move or look at him. I won't fight, but I won't act like a doll either. He grabs my ankle, pulling my leg straight and I instinctively pull back, but I catch myself and let him, locking my jaw and closing my eyes. I pretend I'm not here, he's not here, that I'm somewhere else entirely; somewhere safe. He stretches out my other leg and I grimace, ready for pain, but no pain shoots up my shin. I open my eyes, unmoving; now that I think about it, my leg hasn't hurt this entire time. “Good girl,” he mocks. I glare at him, I'll obey, but not for myself. If there was no one else to worry about, I'd let him kill me in a second. He raises a brow at me, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Stand up, lemme get a look at you.” I want to rebel. I pull my knees up against my chest, glaring at him. He peers over his shoulder at the cage, casting me back a knowing sideways glance. My insides shrivel and I pull myself up on his thumb, staying off my splinted leg, my knees trembling. I hold my arm out, sure he's going to move and send tumbling off his hand. He moves and I gasp, crouching and gripping his thumb. A low rumbling chuckle runs through him, shaking me to the core. “Look at her, Ed,” he says, suddenly shifting. I brace myself, holding onto his thumb, my lungs quivering, as cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I think I lost my stomach somewhere.
“Get outta my face-” the other being shouts. I flinch at the consuming sound, clenching my eyes shut and tightening my grip, as air rushes passed me. Thick, smokey air catches in my lungs and I cough uncontrollably, loosing my hold on the human's thumb. I push myself back into his fingers, waving the smoke from my face. Laughter thunders through his hand and to my core,
“Aw, come on- have a heart, Buddy.” Ed curses, the violent clang of a metal tool reverberating through the air.
“Give 'er to me,” the other suddenly orders. I look up at the angry being, glaring at the other.
“Are you ready-?” he asks calmly.
“Yes- just give 'er to me-” he demands, stepping forward. I scramble back against the dark-eyed human's other hand- unsure of which is safer to be with at this point.
“Okay-” he says, shoving me forward. I frantically backpedal, but he dumps me into the being's palms. In a new set of hands, a new terror and uncertainty grips me and I scramble back into his fingers, watching him intently. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, turning around. “I have a job to go to, I won't be long,” the other human calls, drawing Ed's gaze over his shoulder.
“Take your time-” he spits lowly, taking another puff and blowing the smoke out his nose.
“You two have fun,” the other calls, drawing a dark glance from him, before he turns, locking his eyes on me. I can't help but shrink back. His narrow gaze consumes me, unrelenting. A loud crash sounds behind him and I flinch; it's as if the sound doesn't even reach his ears. Slowly, he moves forward, lowering to a seat, his eyes never leaving my form in the palm of his hand. Something seems to play in the back of his mind, I might almost see it behind his eyes; his brow furrows and he grimaces, sucking in a heavy dose of smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, his expression harsh and unchanging. I see the thick ribbons of smoke waft down his chest and float toward me. I shift back into his hand, but the silver fog invades around me. I shield my mouth and nose in my arms, the heavy smoke filling my lungs. A cough seizes me and I sink against his fingers, waving the merciless cloud away. He almost growls, irritation in his tone. Hot air rushes over me and I brace myself, covering my head and closing my eyes. I peer over my arm, through my hair, at him, as he replace his cigarette between his lips and reaches for me.
G/T Escape: A Borrower's Dystopian Chapter 9
CHAPTAH 9! Yes. one day later, you have another chapter. Here you are! To God be the glory! He is the author; I am only the pen.

Chapter 1

Chapter 8

Chapter 10
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“But-” I begin, my breath tremulous.
“Don't,” he says tiredly, shaking his head.
“But what if we-”
“No-” he meets my gaze darkly, leaning in and I slam my mouth shut, sinking back at the severity in his eyes, “Don't put these people in danger.” My stomach sinks, turning with frustration and helplessness and I yank my gaze away. My hands clench my worn sweater draping off me and onto the ground at my sides; I want to storm away, but I can't even do that. I push my fists against the ground to keep from drawing them up and slamming them against the wall at my back. I breath, refusing to move, because I know if I give my muscles an inch, I'll end up beating the closest thing to me, hurting myself and solving nothing. “I know you're scared-” he says lowly, “but so are they. Don't do something so foolish- so selfish.” My breath catches and I blink; he's right. Why should I be allowed to put everyone in danger, just because I'm too scared to face the same fate as them? “Hey,” I meet his gaze, searching me, “how old are you?” I blink; I haven't even thought of it in so long, it takes me a moment to recall.
“Twenty-one,” I say, not feeling it for a second, wondering what the number even means to me. He snorts softly, smiling almost sadly. I pull my gaze away, examining his exo-skeletal armor, decorated with beading and shapes carved into it. It almost looks like there's words engraved in it, but I can't understand them. Is that even English? It looks so strange. I glance up at him, still studying me, his brow knitting. I fidget, my insides shrinking under his examination, “What?” A soft snort escapes him again, drawing my gaze. His smile widens, but his brow is still furrowed,
“You're just a kid.” I'm not sure if I should take it as an insult; I don't feel like a capable, full-grown Borrower. “I'm old enough to be your father.” My chest constricts and I try to push away memories of my past life, my normal life, before the world fell apart. It really does feel like an entirely different life. I fold my arms across my chest, hugging myself. I catch sight of my useless and bandaged leg.
“How long til this heals?” I ask, shifting my leg and instantly regretting the small action. I grimace, gritting my teeth and holding my breath.
“A while if you keep doing that,” he smothers a smirk, cocking a brow at me. I cast him a cold glance, absorbing the pain until it fades. I tuck my frozen fingers under my arms. “Don't move it at all, for a few days at least- then about,” he shrugs, “a month or two of slowly adding weight to it.” I glance at him- he doesn't sound convincing. “It's been a while since I broke a bone,” he says, shifting and glancing to Ginseng. Vibration moves through the ground and up my spine, my breath catching in my throat and stopping my heart. It stops- I catch myself clenching the fabric of my shirt anxiously. “Kid?” I meet his warm brown eyes, short, labored breaths moving through my nose. The walls settle, dust wafting from the roof, as a rumble moves up from the floor.
“Did you feel that?” I ask breathlessly.
“Getting worked up won't help; stay calm,” he orders, rising and starting away. My heart jumps-
“Wait- where are you going?” I almost jump up, but pain shoots through my leg.
“I'll be back- don't move!” he calls over his shoulder. The floor vibrates almost continuously now, my pulse racing and terror running up and down my spine. Blade is at the wire wall, peering out, a shadow cast over the daylight once pouring in. I glance to Ginseng and Nickleby, but they're gone. I swerve my gaze to the left, where Thimble, Tack, and Grouse were dispersed. Nickleby gathers them, as he glances over his shoulder to Blade, but Ginseng isn't there. I catch a dark form out of the corner of my vision, crouched at my injured leg. I flinch and gasp, swerving back around- my leg screams at me and I grimace.
“Shh-” It's Ginseng, peering intently at me with big icy, blue eyes. “ It's just me-” Where did she come from? I blink, eerie confusion flooding me, as she glances over her shoulder at Blade, still consumed by the outside. How did I not see her? She turns back, her hands open, as she runs her piercing gaze up and down my injured leg, from knee to ankle, chewing on her dark lip. She moves her hands over the bindings, her open palms hovering over my shin. What is she-? Is she planning on unwrapping it? She hesitates, her hands still hovering, as if she's trying to decide where to start.
“What are you doing?” I ask, uncertainty tainting my voice. She doesn't hear me, almost consumed by my injured leg, studying it intensely. She gasps, suddenly jerked away and to her feet by her upper arm. Blade towers over her, his expression dark and stern.
“I told you no-” he says lowly. Her brow furrows darkly and she presses her lips together, peeling his grip from her arm.
“I wasn't-” she bites, “I was only..” her voice trails off into a harsh whisper I can't understand, not softening Blade's expression one bit. He turns away from her and to the others, coming up along side us now, though all standing over me.
“He's coming with another being- the-” The cage is consumed in darkness. Someone gasps, Tack whimpers, and Grouse curses. The walls creak, sounding as though they might be torn apart all together. The whole room shifts beneath us, slamming me back against the wall and knocking the others into each other, their cries accompanied by the consuming sound of scraping wood, vibrating through my core. Ginseng is on her hands and knees over my leg. Daylight peeks into the cage in short flashes.
“You said he had someone with him-!” Grouse shouts. She meets my gaze panting, her blue eyes wide with terror that sends my insides spiraling; what's she afraid of?
“He does- it's-” She's flung into Blade's legs at the left, as everything shifts and the light leaves once again. The cage shifts again; I feel Ginseng thrown against my injury and my breath catches in my throat at the pain, as a cry escapes me. Light flickers and fades in but not from the front of the cage anymore, it's coming behind us, on the far left.
“Blade- the door-!” Thimble cries, and I hear a scramble, light flickering between the bodies around me. Ginseng's hand still presses against my shin. A wooden scraping rumbles through the wall at my back and my blood runs cold. The wall is pulled out from behind me, daylight flooding the small cage, more than I've seen in hours. I clench my eyes shut. My arms flail to catch myself and tremble beneath my weight with adrenalin and anxiety. I peel my eyes open, the light almost blinding. The others falter around me, they seemed about to pull me away, but now they stare into the light, hesitant.
“Ginseng-” I say through gritted teeth, as I turn to her, yanking at my leg, still pinned beneath her weight, but I stop, blinking. No one's there. I scan the darkness; I search the empty space around me. It's as if I can still feel the pressure of her hand on my shin- but she's gone. My elbows buckle under my own weight and hit the floor, pain shooting up my arms. Where is she? Did she really run away? I wouldn't have guessed it of her to leave everyone. A large shadow penetrates the light and my heart stops. I twist to peer over my shoulder, as a form grows in the corner of my vision. I see his fingers hovering above my head, panic sinking it's claws into my chest. I instinctively throw my arm up, shielding myself from the approaching threat. I flatten myself against the ground and curl into a ball, hyperventilating as it lowers, “No- no- no, no, no, no!” I'm enveloped in darkness and heat once again, all sounds muffled through the flesh of his palm and fingers. His fingers curl up around me, gathering me, almost squishing me, before flipping me over, against his palm. I push against his leathery skin, only to hit my back against the roof of my tiny container. Panic grips me at the small confinement, squeezing my lungs and making the air feel thick and tangible. I push and push, moving nothing, sobs racking my body and eating up my precious air. I claw at his palm, but I don't think he can feel it. Suddenly his grip tightens, pressing me into his palm and threatening my sanity. I pant, feeling like I can't breathe, whimpers escaping me with each breath, as I push vainly against his palm. “Let me out!” I cry, my voice breaking with terror, “Let me out!” I sob, my chest constricting. I feel sick. The pressure at my back relinquishes and light floods the darkness. I suck in heavy doses of air, scrambling up and spinning to face him. I backpedal from the monster, a grin tugging at his lips. I wipe my eyes and nose, suddenly self-conscious beneath his dark gaze.
“Not so brave now, haw Princess?” My heart clenches and emotion balls in my throat, as I sink back into his hand.
“Be careful- you wanna make a profit don't you?” A new voice draws my gaze, a man with sandy, red hair, leaning on a table behind him. He cleans some utensil in a white cloth, boredom and annoyance consuming his features, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, with a long trail of silvery smoke, wafting from the red end like a ribbon. His grey, blue eyes are narrow and his brow furrowed, as he casts the dark-eyed being an irritated glance. “Don't damage the merchandise, idiot- she'll be worthless when you're done with her.”
G/T Escape: A Borrower's Dystopian Chapter 8
Chapter 8! WE ARE FINALLY GETTING SOMEWHERE OUT OF THAT CAGE. You guys could not fathom or conceive the plot-twists and conspiracies I have laid out for this story. To God be the glory! He is the author; I am only the pen.

Chapter 1

Chapter 7

Chapter 9
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  • Mood: Joy
  • Listening to: A sermon podcast by my pastor
  • Playing: Minecraft [maybe]
  • Eating: Egg roles
  • Drinking: Chamomile tea

Hi, I was hoping you could help me. I’m planning on going on my second missionary trip this June. My first trip was in December 2012 and I’ve been trying to go back to the same country since. I’m worried about saying where I’m going exactly over the internet, because I was advised by the group leader not to talk about the trip over social media, because the country we’re going to might give us problems or send us home when we arrive. I’m going with a group based in Dacula, Georgia, connected to a church, called Hebron Baptist Church. To raise money, I’m hoping to take free commissions over DA and simply ask for donations toward the trip, but a donation is not required for a commission ;D I’m telling you all this because I’m wondering if you could somehow spread the word that I’m taking free commissions for the purpose of a mission trip. Donations would be through paypal and I can talk about the trip through email, if anyone wants more information. Thankyou so much for your time and consideration; if anything, I just need prayers ;] Thanks again!

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:iconhoshirozu:
hoshirozu Featured By Owner 4 days ago  New member Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks so much for the favLa la la la 
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:iconwaywardgal:
waywardgal Featured By Owner Dec 12, 2014  Student General Artist
Thank you so much for taking the time out to favorite my works. It means such a great deal to me that you enjoy my art, and I hope you can consider watching Hug

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:iconhbpen:
HBPen Featured By Owner Dec 12, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Np :tighthug: :]
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:iconabalamanderson:
AbalamAnderson Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
May I kindly ask of you to give me your thoughts on one of my pieces ?
I Am Hate
I would really appreciate it if you would! :D
Also, I've sent you a Llama, Fav'd some of your works and I became a Watcher! :la:
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:iconlumieredarling:
LumiereDarling Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday!! ^.^
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:iconhbpen:
HBPen Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thankyou!
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:iconlumieredarling:
LumiereDarling Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
:)
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:iconkluste:
Kluste Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Hi! :star:
thank you so much for faving one of my works! glad you like it ^__^ ~
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:iconhbpen:
HBPen Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Np :D
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:iconphoacce-cell5:
Phoacce-Cell5 Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thx for the watch :)
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