[pre]
The robot carried the abomination to a wealthy family’s home. He grasped the golden lion and knocked. A young woman answered the door. She held a child in her arms. The robot quizzically looked at the bundle in lady Magda’s arms.
“O, I’m sorry commander this is my son Dallas.”
“Ah so this is the young prodigy I’ve been hearing about, very fine boy.”
"What brings you to our home?”
“I’ve brought you a present: A servant in the making.”
Magda uncovered the child. A look of horror overcame her features.
“That... That’s a feral!”
“Do not be alarmed, she is harmless in this state.”
"If you wish, you may take her. And raise her to be your servant.”
“Well I guess we can use her for something. We’ve always wanted a pet,” smirked the woman.
Magda left to put her child down for a nap. As she lowered him into the cradle she whispered “Don’t worry I’ll keep that little demon away from you.” She bent down and brushed the spiky blue hair from black eyes. Then she turned and went to fetch the thing from commander. He placed the child in her arms, and thanked her. Magda closed the door and called for one of her servants.
“Cynthia, come here!”
“Yes mam. What do you need?”
“Take this filthy creature and set it up in the basement.
She did as she was told. Cynthia took a crate and laid a rag inside. She then grabbed a blanket and layered the makeshift cradle. Carefully placing the baby into it, she smiled. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Cynthia knew what a life she had ahead. It wasn’t a pretty one. Magda came down the stairs. She saw the servant smiling. In a fit of rage she kicked the cradle under the stairs and locked the door.
That night Cynthia couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t bear the thought of that child sleeping alone in the dark. So she grabbed the torch and descended down the stairs. Every time the floorboard creaked her heart stopped. If Magda woke up, Cynthia would be beaten. She didn’t care; a strong force drew her to the child. Cynthia was to bear a child last year, but Magda found out. She beat her so bad she miscarriaged. The feral was the closest thing to the child she never had. The servant opened the basement door and fiddled with the stairs lock. When she opened it she saw the child. She lay in a corner of the crate curled into a ball. The baby was terrified. It was so cold. Cynthia lifted her up and crept towards her room. She locked the door and laid the baby on her bed. She dressed the child in the clothes she had for her lost child. Cynthia cried the clothes fit perfectly. Her daughter was home now. [/pre]
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
O= Oh
If I'm not mistakin, these two should be the same quote, because they're said by the same person.
Mam, spelled Ma'am. Confusing, ain't it? I had a lot of trouble with that one once.
I like this so far, the part with Cynthia was cute and made me smile. I like the way you evoked emotions with her. This was a short peice, and I don't really have much to say about it, so I'll be on to the next part as soon as I can.
Keep up the good work,
-JC
i loved this please post more
i already read this part from the huge one you posted that i didnt get to finish, but keep posting in small bits. the story is really interesting and i want to read more.