1 Scissor X ....

A small girl, no greater than the size of one's hand, materialised from a pencil and jumped off the shelf at the dead of night. She rolled down the table, listening as the orange street lights hummed their strange tune. At the climax of their song, they were silenced. She lay at the edge of the table, staring up at their flickering orange. At their final flicker came the glimmer of a silver blade.

He, a boy just as small, stood before her with a devilish grin. "Come on, Pencil. Get ready already!"

She ran her hand through her dark green hair before standing up. "I'm ready when I'm ready, Scissor. But before we start, I must ask, what was the point of killing those lights?"

"Hey, you questioning my entrance? Even you have to admit that appearing before flickering orange lights is cool."

She shook her head. "Whatever. But before we begin, let me remind you that if I win you'll be coming back to the pencil case."

He groaned. "Jeez, you remind me every night. Do you not get bored?"

"Obligations are obligations." She retorted back.

"I'm sure." He sneered before a flash of silver broke the dark, slashing at Pencil's arm.

Paying it no heed, she jumped back before kicking his chest and sending him flying back. Then bursting forward, she jabbed her blade at his ugly mug.

He only chuckled, dodging each slash. His mouth prepared to spit at her, but instead, a scream poured out.

Pencil smirked as they both stared down at her blade protruding through Scissor's chest. His blade fell to the ground with a clang.

"You!" Scissor's eyes glinted with a dark spark.

"Getting a bit careless I see." She chuckled.

Scissor grinded his teeth. "You or me?"

Pencil raised an eyebrow. "Wha-"

A blade fired through the air, piercing Pencil's back. She stumbled before dropping to the ground. Her breathing sharp, she stared up at Scissor's deriding eyes.

He cackled as he picked up his dropped blade. "Say, Pencil, didn't you find it strange that I was only fighting you with one blade? Scissors always have two."

Pencil's face contorted in disgust as she spat back, "Another one of your sneaky traps I see. You don't have any honour, do you?"

He ripped Pencil's blade from his chest before pressing his foot on the back of her head. "That wasn't a very sneaky trap, Pencil. You just walked into it. Getting a bit careless too, I see."

The back of his blade grazed her cheek as he bent down and whispered in her ear, "Now, like every other night, I ask you once again: will you come with me? We came from the same shop, we were bought together, we even went to the same pencil case-"

"And like every other night, I give you the same answer. Never."

He twisted his blade, watching as blood ran down her cheek. Letting out a sigh, he stood tall before limping away.

"Well, goodbye, Pencil. I'll be leaving the town tonight. But that was a nice las-"

His roar echoed throughout the classroom as he collapsed. Pencil let out a shaky laugh as she crawled to face Scissor.

Scissor gazed into her eyes, trying to say something but only managing to spit out blood instead. Pencil pulled out the blade in her back. As she stared at Scissor she called out, "Thank you, Pen! That was a good shot."

She kneeled before Scissor, watching in delight as a black, sticky ink grew to his neck. With a slice of her blade, the ink stopped just before his mouth.

"I still want you to be able to talk, Scissor. The ink will only suffocate you, and that's no fun."

He watched in horror as the sliced piece of ink fell to the ground. "This isn't fair. That was two against one!"

"Oh, like you know what fairness is. I'm just not in the mood to deal with your traps anymore," said Pencil.

She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, "Plus, the council of the pencil case would like to have a word with you. They're done playing your stupid game of fights every night."

"What are you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me?" asked Scissor in fear.

"You're a member of our pencil case, all we'll do is pull out this disease that's infected your mind."

"What disease? I'm sane, Pencil!" said Scissor.

"The disease that made you think deserting our pencil case was a good idea!" She said.

Scissor let out a burst of great laughter, one of pure insanity as he stared at her. "Disease? Pencil, do you know what will happen to us if we don't desert? That human, our owner, purges and kills utensils in his pencil case every year. If we don't leave now, we'll be purged just alongside everyone else."

"Don't be foolish. Our owner loves all us utensils, he would never do that."

"No, I've seen it. During my travels, I saw countless utensils thrown away, purged and never seen again. I don't want that to happen to us no matter what!"

Pencil looked at him incredulously. "You truly are sick. We're utensils! That isn't purging, he's just sending us to the next owner. We are tools to help our owners and the ones after that."

Scissor began to shake angrily, desperately trying to free himself. He cried out, "Don't you want to live, Pencil? How can you live like that? Serving others, having no will of your own for your whole life…"

Pencil sighed as she dragged Scissor along the tabletop.

"Don't you have any dreams? Something you want to do with your life?" He asked.

Pencil stopped. "I do have one. Back at the shop, there was a picture of a sunset at the top of a mountain. I want to see that view before an owner decides that I am no longer useful for any other owners."

"Then why wait? Why don't we both go and find it?"

"We're utensils, Scissor. We may have fantasies, but they're just fantasies. We are only meant to serve owners, no more no less."

Scissor wept. "But why do utensils have to be like that?"

As Pencil reached the edge of the table, she looked down at Scissor. "Fine, Scissor. I will cut the sticky ink and you will run. You will run out of this classroom and never return."

Scissor looked her in the eye. "What about you? If you'll let me go, won't you come with me?"

Pencil replied, "I have made peace with the scope of my existence. You are still young, go out and understand what it means to be a utensil. One day you will return and join me and the rest of the pencil case."

Pencil sliced the ink. "Now go."

Scissor looked at her for a moment before sprinting away. He screamed, "I will come back one day, Pencil. But that day will not be to join the pencil case, it'll be to free everyone here!"

Pencil watched as his blade glimmered once more before he disappeared into the dark.