Legacy Name: Devours

The Common Harvester
Owner: Burton

Age: 4 years, 1 month, 3 days

Born: September 25th, 2016

Adopted: 4 years, 1 month, 3 days ago

Adopted: September 25th, 2016


  • Level: 1
  • Strength: 10
  • Defense: 10
  • Speed: 10
  • Health: 10
  • HP: 10/10
  • Intelligence: 0
  • Books Read: 0
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed

She devours...

Sybil silently slips the tie to her robe, the warm silk that once clung to her milky skin sliding to the side as if of its own accord. She shrugs her robe off of her shoulders, the sudden rush of cool air covering her in gooseflesh. After placing it on the chaise next to her bed, she pulls back the sheets and comforter, sinking quietly into her cool bed. The women shivers slightly, pulling her covers to her chin. The light breeze from the window carries the crisp scent of Autumn. She breathes deep, the cool air burning slightly in her nostrils. Sighing softly, she rolls over and succumbs to sleep. "Please..."She wakes, heart racing, eyes darting about, scouring the room for the source of the voice. She knows where it came from, but knowing doesn't lessen the fear crushing her heart. The girl rolls to her side and stares into the lantern. The light dances inside, dark red and bright oranges playing with soft yellows, vying against each other, impenetrable black surrounding this beautiful dance of color. Occasionally, the red engulfs the yellow, and although irrational, seemed to emit a high pitched scream. Sleep beckons once more, this time pulling her in and engulfing her like the yellow flame. Waking feels fuzzy; disorienting. Her eyes are still here with sleep, so she wasn't too disconcerted the first time she reached for her phone and missed. The second time, however, made her heart jump. She tried a third time, her hand just missing the bedside table and swinging downward, with nothing to stop it other than the side of her bed. Sybil bolts upright, the tingle and deep ache resonating from finger tips to elbow. The sobering feeling wasn't enough to still the panic she felt; this room was not hers. Aside from the bedside table and chaise at the foot of her bed, the room was bare. Her cell phone is gone. Sybil flings the bedding off and leaps out of bed, the cold floor jolting her back on to the exact spot she leapt from. The only thing anchoring her to sanity is this bed, warm and plush, the feather down cocooning her trembling body. A quick look to the right and she sees her robe. Breathing sharply, she steps on the floor once again, this time prepared for the icy impact. She strides quickly to the chaise and removes her robe, sliding it over her bare arms and gasping as it creates a layer of gooseflesh in reaction to the cold silk. Steeling herself against the alien-like cold feeling, Sybil sets her sights on the wall. There is no door, but there has to be something. I got in here somehow.She begins feeling the walls, flat palms sliding along the perfectly smooth surface. Once she reaches the third wall, however, desperation sets in. Suddenly she's slamming her hands against the unforgiving surface, tears pooling in her eyes, frantically feeling for something.Anything. Exactly halfway across the wall, the texture changes. It's cooler, somehow; rougher. It's about three feet wide and she can't reach the top. It must be a door.Sybil presses harder against the edges, her nails digging into the surface, and suddenly it gives. Just enough to break through the thin layer that covers the possible door. The paint layer peels off in large chunks, revealing a dark, three-paned door. Its construction is rough, nailed together quickly. The hole where the doorknob should be seems to have been carved by hand. Large, jagged chunks are missing from the sides. There is no light coming from the other side of the door, and even after she throws herself against it, it doesn't budge. "Hello? Is anyone there?"Sybil sits down on the floor, resting her head against the door, tapping her fingers on it. "Please, is anyone there?" She pleads to the silent room. Sybil closes her eyes and cries, the stinging pain of tears forming somewhat satiated by the tears themselves. She breathes slowly, putting forth every effort to keep herself calm.
I'm never getting out.
Sybil sits there, periodically calling out to no one, her throat raw and nose stuffed from the steady flow of tears, feeling exhausted. It's when she braces herself to stand and walk to the bed that she hears it; something shifted on the other side of the door.
Sybil stops and places her ear against the door and speaks as calmly as she can: "is someone there?"
It was only moments, but it felt like minutes, before she heard it.
"Yes. Please, help me."
Profile coding by Lea.

Profile art by Thirrin.

Pet Treasure

Pet Friends