Chapter 5
Whill sat back down on the plush mattress.
And waited for something to happen. Anything to happen.
Because Whill had no screwing idea what was happening to him.
He surveyed the room a third time, looking for a hint, a sign, anything that could identify where he was. There were no windows and the only door was locked from the outside.
If Shaped are so glorified, why am I being held prisoner?
Without anything else to do, he grabbed a book of the shelf and f
Chapter 4
Whill couldn’t hear. His best sense- gone.
But he knew he was a Shaped.
The only reason he knew this was the banners that now hung on the walls with squares imprinted on them- the emblem of the Shaped.
He staggered off the platform, and ducked into a corner.
Why? Why did I become deaf? A deaf Shaped- that’s a paradox. Shaped are supposed to gain enhanced senses, not lose them entirely! What happened to me?
His thoughts sped by, as he hid in the corner.
Chapter 3
The dreaded day came.
Whill, having stayed awake all night long, stumbled into the towering dome of the Bureau. Today would decide the rest of his life.
Whill joined the line of jittering, nervous boys, his mind too nulled to panic. Staying awake all night had dulled his brain, which he would have wondered if that was good or bad.
No one knew how roles were assigned, let alone who assigned them. Whill didn’t care. He knew that there was nothing he could do to preve
Jax had been like Whill’s parent for his entire life. Their mother and father had both disappeared a few days after Whill was born, and Jax had run away from the orphanage to take care of Whill himself.
And he had done a damn good job.
Whill remembered Jax sneaking out to grab food every morning for the two of them, trying to make sure that he didn’t wake up. Jax had taught him everything he knew, and when the day came that he had turned 18, Whill desperately tried to keep Jax from goi
Alright, I'm trying it out!
SHAPER-
Chapter 1
Whill breathed in the sawdust-heavy air of the workshop. It was an early morning, but then again, wasn't it always an early morning? He picked up his gloves from the desk- the desk he had finished with- with---- He shook his head, trying to block out those thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. He put on the gloves, turning towards the back of the shop.
Whill had always been a scrawny boy, and even at 17, he was still shorter tha
