near the ceiling. I tried not to imagine the
spiders tearing through the screen to get at me and failed. Finally, exhausted,
I sank back against the wall to wait for night.
A soft moan of sound woke me up a little later.
Moonlight painted the inside of the concrete building a pale, silvery gray. I
imagined scrabbling legs and clicking fangs in the deep shadows pooled in the
corner, but when the moan came again, I pushed myself to my feet and tiptoed
over to the broken cage. With gentle fingers, I pushed aside the drift of
stiff, brittle bodies until I found the source of the noise. The fairy, smaller
than the rest and colored a very dark purple, clung to my fingers with her
hands and feet. The creature shuddered and cried out in pain as I pulled her
free.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sorry,” I said as I
brought the fairy over to the table where I’d found Jake’s tablet. The fairy
huddled on the bare wood, one wing broken and hanging, both legs tucked up
against her chest. I plucked at the shirt I wore under my vest, and finding a
hole, ripped off a piece of material to cover the shivering fairy. I sat there,
staring at the injured creature and felt like crying. I couldn’t imagine Jake
being any part of this cruel torture, but I’d seen the proof of it. I pulled
the tablet out, squinting to read it in the pale moonlight.
Some of the drawings made me cringe. One in
particular looked like something out of a nightmare. It was a wolfish looking
iron creature with captured fairies resting in its chest. The teeth were made of
what looked like serrated knife blades.
Without thinking, I pulled a purple colored pencil
out of the box and began to sketch the fairy before me. I drew the wings strong
and straight, the body well-fleshed, and the face stretched in a mischievous
smile. When I moved to finish the eyes, I felt the same tingling I’d felt when
I’d drawn the tiger for the Captain.
An irresistible compulsion to finish the drawing
rushed through me, molten and hot. It was uncomfortable and made my stomach
clench. When the feeling intensified, I gasped, fighting the compulsion. It
flared, my insides growing so warm I began to sweat. With a cry of pain, I gave
up and pressed my pencil back to the page.
The image of the fairy, whole and healthy flashed
in front of my eyes, and I latched onto it, pulling the health of the tiny
creature I’d drawn on the page into the fairy lying on the table. The tingling
intensified, until with a sharp, stabbing pain in the middle of my forehead, it
subsided. With blurry eyes, I plucked the makeshift blanket away from the
injured fairy, barely suppressing the foolish hope. The tablet fell to the
floor in my shock.
Staring back at me was not the emaciated, stick
fairy I’d laid on the table. Instead, a vivacious, sparkling little creature
leaped into the air, and with a sharp, high-pitched squeal, launched herself
into my hair, her tiny hands stroking my cheeks. I couldn’t help laughing. When
the fairy finally settled back down and was prancing along the table with the
piece of t-shirt as a cape, I went in search of food. If I knew Jake, there’d
be a stash somewhere. He couldn’t work without eating.
I let out a little squeal of my own as I unearthed
a box of water and dried meat and fruit beneath the table. In between mouthfuls
of food, I tore off little bits and offered them to the fairy. After a few
attempts at trying to get the fairy to eat some fruit, I gave up and handed
over a strip of jerky. With my stomach full and the fairy curled up in the
curve of my neck, I stared at the drawing I’d done. Apparently, I did have a
special ability. I wondered if I could draw something from scratch and bring it
to life. Instead of trying, I tucked the tablet and pencils up against my side
and curled up against the wall to listen for William or spiders.
Ten: Paige
When the sun was up, I stumbled outside, my eyes
peeled for any sign of the Captain’s men or William lurking in the
spiders tearing through the screen to get at me and failed. Finally, exhausted,
I sank back against the wall to wait for night.
A soft moan of sound woke me up a little later.
Moonlight painted the inside of the concrete building a pale, silvery gray. I
imagined scrabbling legs and clicking fangs in the deep shadows pooled in the
corner, but when the moan came again, I pushed myself to my feet and tiptoed
over to the broken cage. With gentle fingers, I pushed aside the drift of
stiff, brittle bodies until I found the source of the noise. The fairy, smaller
than the rest and colored a very dark purple, clung to my fingers with her
hands and feet. The creature shuddered and cried out in pain as I pulled her
free.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sorry,” I said as I
brought the fairy over to the table where I’d found Jake’s tablet. The fairy
huddled on the bare wood, one wing broken and hanging, both legs tucked up
against her chest. I plucked at the shirt I wore under my vest, and finding a
hole, ripped off a piece of material to cover the shivering fairy. I sat there,
staring at the injured creature and felt like crying. I couldn’t imagine Jake
being any part of this cruel torture, but I’d seen the proof of it. I pulled
the tablet out, squinting to read it in the pale moonlight.
Some of the drawings made me cringe. One in
particular looked like something out of a nightmare. It was a wolfish looking
iron creature with captured fairies resting in its chest. The teeth were made of
what looked like serrated knife blades.
Without thinking, I pulled a purple colored pencil
out of the box and began to sketch the fairy before me. I drew the wings strong
and straight, the body well-fleshed, and the face stretched in a mischievous
smile. When I moved to finish the eyes, I felt the same tingling I’d felt when
I’d drawn the tiger for the Captain.
An irresistible compulsion to finish the drawing
rushed through me, molten and hot. It was uncomfortable and made my stomach
clench. When the feeling intensified, I gasped, fighting the compulsion. It
flared, my insides growing so warm I began to sweat. With a cry of pain, I gave
up and pressed my pencil back to the page.
The image of the fairy, whole and healthy flashed
in front of my eyes, and I latched onto it, pulling the health of the tiny
creature I’d drawn on the page into the fairy lying on the table. The tingling
intensified, until with a sharp, stabbing pain in the middle of my forehead, it
subsided. With blurry eyes, I plucked the makeshift blanket away from the
injured fairy, barely suppressing the foolish hope. The tablet fell to the
floor in my shock.
Staring back at me was not the emaciated, stick
fairy I’d laid on the table. Instead, a vivacious, sparkling little creature
leaped into the air, and with a sharp, high-pitched squeal, launched herself
into my hair, her tiny hands stroking my cheeks. I couldn’t help laughing. When
the fairy finally settled back down and was prancing along the table with the
piece of t-shirt as a cape, I went in search of food. If I knew Jake, there’d
be a stash somewhere. He couldn’t work without eating.
I let out a little squeal of my own as I unearthed
a box of water and dried meat and fruit beneath the table. In between mouthfuls
of food, I tore off little bits and offered them to the fairy. After a few
attempts at trying to get the fairy to eat some fruit, I gave up and handed
over a strip of jerky. With my stomach full and the fairy curled up in the
curve of my neck, I stared at the drawing I’d done. Apparently, I did have a
special ability. I wondered if I could draw something from scratch and bring it
to life. Instead of trying, I tucked the tablet and pencils up against my side
and curled up against the wall to listen for William or spiders.
Ten: Paige
When the sun was up, I stumbled outside, my eyes
peeled for any sign of the Captain’s men or William lurking in the
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