G/T YouTubers (One Shots and More)

Isolated (Mark+Amy and Jack) (Part 1)

It was in the dead of night that Jack jolted awake to the sound of the floorboards creaking. He froze in place, clamping his hand over his mouth as he listened to the heavy boots strike the wood above his head.

"And you say your pest problem is in this room? Not the kitchen?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. And none of the traps I set go off."

"Got it. Looks like there's been some dust disturbed here, you vaccuum lately?"

"No sir."

Shit! Jack, like any wild borrower in his situation, realized exactly what was going on. As quickly as he could, he slipped out of his bed and ran to his borrowing bag, grabbing all of his necessities. But as he was throwing the strap over his shoulder, he heard the pest control employer start to spray something, and the inside of the little borrower home started to get foggy. Jack coughed and covered his mouth and nose with his arm, but his eyes were already watering as his vision swam from the thickening air.

"Shit, no...!" But he felt his muscles weakening. His shoulders slumped as he took one staggering step, and then he collapsed onto the ground. He let out a weak groan, eyelids drooping as he heard another loud creak, like a ripping noise, and blinding light flooded his fading vision as the ceiling of his home was lifted up.

"Aha, there you are." Jack felt his breath quicken as a large shadow blocked out the light, but his body wouldn't move no matter how hard he begged for his muscles to work. He was forced to lay immobile as gloved fingers his own size came down over him, wrapping underneath and clenching around his frail frame to squeeze a weak breath out of him, and he felt the ground be stolen away from beneath him.

"A borrower? But how—?"

"Looks like it. Guess the winter season was too much for it— I bet this is one of the last wild ones too."

"Wow... Has it always been there?"

"Hard to tell. But it definitely had enough time to set up a little home. Better get all of that cemented after I clear it out." Jack's eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake, to keep listening to the humans, but the sleeping gas was too good at its job...

It was dark again, when he came to. He could feel a loud and deep rattling that vibrated through his body, the deafening hum of a vehicle alive and growling, tearing across vast distances of pavement. It took a great deal of effort until Jack could even hold his eyes open, but his mind was sluggish; he could barely move, if any, but strips of metal were digging into his back uncomfortably. Lines of darkness stretched across his vision, and even further away was the bland silver ceiling of a transport truck.

He knew exactly where he was, despite the lingering effects of the gas; he'd been caught. He'd been caged up, tossed into a truck, and was being shipped off to be dealt with. Probably a borrower vet, someone who could check him over and see if he was worth being sold to a pet store. His throat tightened... A pet. That's all he was to these humans. Nothing but a wild animal with enough intelligence to be domesticated. If he conformed, he'd probably have to put up with all kinds of abuse and mistreatment, but bile churned in his empty stomach at the thought of his other "option": If he proved too dangerous, too vicious and disobedient to be tamed... then he would be euthanized.

He slowly managed to sit up, leaning heavily on the bars of his cage as he took a look around. There were other boxes that stacked shortly from the bed of the truck's storage, and he was on top of one such collection. His nostrils twitched at the familiar smell of those traps the houseowner had set out— he'd known better than to take tainted food. But as the truck halted at what he guessed was one of those red lights, he saw the swing of inertia make the door slide a little. Was that the latch broken? Maybe he did have a chance!