"you're a pen. you live in a book. your whole purpose is to serve eternal life to the book. do you know who controls you? a human being. you think you have movement? hate to break it to you, but that's just the person controlling you like a puppet. that being is slowing killing you in the process. she is slowly taking away your ink overtime. she is using your ink for her own gain. you can't control that, as you accept your slow everlasting death." this is an art-themed "horror" story, where you are an artist, and you wanted to turn scribbles into entities. well, it became a dream-come-true with the vulnerable pen next to your bed.
this is no bfdi story.
