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A Not-That-Original Story
She sat with the pen in her hand, waiting for the words to come to her, as they always did. She had little control over what decided to pour out of her soul. Sometimes this was dangerous, but try as she might she couldn't change it.
When something came to her, she gave it over to the ink of the pen, trusting the parchment to soak up and retain her barely legible markings.
What emerged from the tip of then pen and splayed itself across the page remained dark for only a moment or two. When it faded, rather suddenly, a faint wisp seemed to gasp from it, spring into the air, free. The words twisted and whirled in the dark room, performing a remarkable transformation, an impossible one.
A tiger slowly materialized beside the girl, and she let out a shrill scream. She dropped the pen and ran to the door or her cell, yelling so loud it was nearly incomprehensible.
The tiger, it must be said, looked not so much terrifying and hungry as upset and confused. An expected reaction, as it had been so strangely created. Who knew where it had come from- perhaps nowhere at all- but evidently the poor thing was not pleased with its current situation.
The girl didn't notice as it turned in circles behind her, eventually yawning and curling itself into a ball on a cement floor. For the door had opened, and the girl thrown against the wall with the force of it.
"What's the matter, girl?" demanded a harsh, unsympathetic voice as a lantern came into view. "You're supposed to be- JED! JED, THERE'S A MOTHERF***ING TIGER IN HERE!"
The man, an intimidating brute only moments ago, seemed to shrivel and shrink in fear as the tiger lifted it's head to glare at the man who'd interrupted its attempt at sleep. Tripping over himself as he stumbled down the hallway, trying to escape, he neglected to latch the cell door behind him.
Calmly but swiftly, the girl spit on the piece of paper she'd written on, watching as the ink blurred before her eyes, the tiger fading with it.
"I'm sorry I had to bother you," she whispered before it was gone. Bending over, she picked up the pen she'd dropped and tucked it into the leather belt she wore around her waist. The parchment she folded into a hidden pocket in her skirts, and then... she ran.
By the time the prison guard arrived with his commander, the girl with her flaming orange hair was gone, as was the tiger she'd conjured.
"What have you done, fool?!" growled Jed, the head of the prison guard. "She was the most valuable of any of them!"
"It's not... not like we got the best securities, Jed, See, there was this tiger, and... it was sleeping, but-"
Within seconds, his withering excuse became his last words. The prison guard lay dead on the floor, his neck broken. Jed walked bak down the hall he'd entered from, shaking his head. Now he'd have to get a message to Rende. Fantastic. Three guards down this week; he should have known, after her second try at escape. Third time's always the charm, isn't it?
Oh, well. He'd find her again soon enough.