i_jest The Pen That House Gave (narrative)
Such devious things he could do with such a simple thing as a pen.
His bindings removed, cut through completely, ripped straight down the front. It had taken a couple days, but it had been done, and now his arms were free. Due to the tip of metal being flattened and made sharp on the pen that House gave.
The door was now open, the entry unblocked, his way was cleared for him, thanks to the spring, his bindings removed because the sharpened tip of the pen that House gave.
The next step was quick, for who could stop him, who could stand up to him now that he was free? Jack's personal guard was killed with the shaft, once the door had been opened by spring, and his bindings removed because of the sharpened tip of the pen that House gave.
Others had been freed using the keys from the orderly who had gotten a body thrown at him, and now they too were running free. Flooding into the city after the doors had been jammed using the clip, after the guard was killed with the shaft, once the door had been opened by spring, and his bindings removed because of the sharpened tip of the pen that House gave.
Those that would not join him were dead, other inmates doing the deeds he required after the heads of the future dead had been marked using the ink, after the doors had been jammed using the clip, after the guard was killed with the shaft, once the door had been opened by spring, and his bindings removed because of the sharpened tip of the pen that House gave.
The staff that remianed were followers of Jack, agreeing to doing his bidding. They'd seen what he could do, once before and now, and they didn't want to be next to die by the pen. They agreed he was Lord, and gave him the keys, gave him the deed, gave him their lives, but not by the pen, they had seen the dead had been marked using the ink, after the doors had been jammed using the clip, after the guard was killed with the shaft, once the door had been opened by spring, and his bindings removed because of the sharpened tip of the pen that House gave.
Now Jack sat in the office belonging to the man who had long ago created this building. His feet up on the desk, a smile on his face, his name scrawled in crayon across the deed hung on the wall. Arkham was his, and nobody could take it. All because of the pen that House gave.