The Lost Ones Book 2: Welcome Home

Chapter 55

Quentin continued to struggle, pulling on the chains but to no avail. The hallway was soon filled with the sound of chains and muffled cries.

She swung a pair of large doors open and stepped inside as she grew even larger than before, eventually holding the chains between her fingers. She placed him down on a large table and the chains immediately pulled him to the ground. "Here we are... my workshop."

Quentin squirmed a bit. His breathing was quick and heavy, and the muzzle made it hard for him to breath.

Looking around he could see that the area around them looked like an old... wood shop? There were other tools for other things lying about but it had an eerie aura throughout the whole room.

Racks with tools hung off to the side, drawers with screws, strings, and paints sat underneath them and stacks of different woods. Within view there were at least three different kinds of saws.

He could also see a sewing machine station area behind her with fabrics and threads and drawers of buttons and other materials.

There also seemed to be some kind of tiles and a pottery station off to the side as well.

"Where to start..." Penelope hummed to herself, moving over to the tools and looking around her workshop.

Quentin didn't cease struggling, still trying to get himself free. He looked around the room, his stomach dropping as he spotted the tools.

"Hmm... Well you definitely aren't one of them..." She was mostly talking to herself at this point as she moved around. "So that narrows it down to three options.... Well... two." She glanced between her wood station and her sewing machine in thought. "The only reason I'd need that one is if you become too broken..." she muttered, glancing at the sewing machine. "So I guess this one it is." She stood in front of her woodworking station and hummed as she looked through the woods and gathered different tools.

Quentin hit the side of his head onto the table, attempting to at least get his muzzle off. The metal clanged against the wood, the bolts holding the metal starting to become loose.

She glanced at him. "Oh come now, I'll take that off in a moment if you'll be patient with me." She told him as she gathered some pieces of wood. "Or if you want me to work faster than I can just tear you apart and put you back together over and over. But I have a feeling you would prefer this."

Quentin quickly stopped and his body relaxed, running out of energy. His breathing grew shaking, and a few sobs came out.

She glanced at him. "If I recall you're pretty famous back at your home. Millions of fans, part of one of the most popular groups for a while, yet you come to me in those grimy, tattered clothes. Even your fins look horrible. How will people ever be able to recognize you looking like such a mess?" She asked as she worked on something he couldn't see.

Quentin looked back at her, tears still rolling down his eyes. He had so much to say but couldn't.

"If you promise not to spit water at me, I'll take it off," She told him after a moment. "Nod if you agree."

Quentin thought to himself for a second. With how much he'd been crying he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to create any water to use. He closed his eyes in defeat and nodded.

She waved her hand and the muzzle vanished. "There."

A loud gasp escaped Quentin's lips as he was finally able to breathe normally again. "L-let me g-go!"

"I told you, you had that option but you turned it down repeatedly." She replied, as she focused on her work.

"No. I want out of here! Is this all just some sick game to you like that Kalaraja guy?!"