Megan Inky Apr 2026

She told no one. Not her mom, who was busy enough with night shifts at the hospital. Not her best friend, Priya, who would absolutely demand a flying ink whale as proof. And definitely not the kids at school, who already thought she was the weird art girl with the permanent stains.

Megan set the paper down. She uncapped the ink. Her hand trembled, but not from fear—from focus. She began to draw.

He left, and Megan was alone with her raven drawing. The raven’s head turned, its beak opening in a silent caw. It knew she was scared. megan inky

The voice was low, amused. She turned to find Lucas Vane leaning against the doorframe. Lucas was the kind of handsome that made people use words like “chiseled” and “brooding.” He was also captain of the swim team, which meant he had no business in the art room.

The paper bulged. Ink dripped onto the table, then rose upward, defying gravity. The Hollow pulled itself free of the page, unfolding like a nightmare origami. It was seven feet tall, all sharp angles and liquid shadow. Its empty face turned toward Lucas. She told no one

“What you should have done,” Megan said. She turned to the creature. “ The Hollow —you are bound by my ink. You will not grant wishes. You will not leave this room. And you will never, ever come out of a piece of paper again.”

“You tricked me,” he said.

Over the following months, she learned to control it. Whatever she drew with sufficient focus—not just ink, but any dark, flowing medium—could wake up . Her sketches could move, breathe, and even climb off the page if she pushed hard enough. The catch? The more lifelike the drawing, the more energy it drained from her. A simple wiggling line cost nothing. A fully animated, three-inch ink squirrel left her dizzy for an hour.

It was a Tuesday. A grey, drizzly Tuesday in October that smelled like wet leaves and regret. Megan was in the art room after school, alone—her favorite time. She’d just finished a detailed ink drawing of a raven on a thick sheet of watercolor paper. Its eye was a perfect, glossy bead of black. She leaned back, admiring her work, when the door creaked open. And definitely not the kids at school, who

“Oh, and while you were staring at the monster, Priya was in the hall. She filmed you blackmailing me. And she’s already sent it to the principal, your parents, and the school board.”

“The lock,” Megan said, standing up. She was shaking, but her voice was steady. “You can’t grant anything until the lock is opened. And only I have the key.”