Countdown to Halloween: Creepypasta Edition

Day Twenty-Five: The Skinners

Day 3

I was resigned to even writing this journal, and for the first two days I kept my will strong, but even the strongest of minds cannot defeat the allure of distraction from staring at the wall of a cell. This journal entry will probably be the longest of them all. There is a lot to explain about the predicament I find myself in, and the hellhole that I now seem to be imprisoned in for the foreseeable future. To start, I should let you know who I am. I used to be a lawyer. A well off, respectable lawyer, with a family, a three story house, everything a typical American would dream of having. Now, it doesn't matter. Not a single fucking thing I had changes what's happening now. As I type this, I am sitting on my metal chair, in my cramped metal cell. Everything around is metal, save the soft mattress. You'd be surprised how grateful a person can be. You get taken from your home, locked in this fucking cell, but hey, we have soft mattresses. I guess that's just the cruel humor of the world. Anyway, getting on with it. The rest of the cell is just a dull, metal. However... every wall has a hole in the center, roughly three feet above the floor, about wide enough to stick your head through. Through these, we, the prisoners, can communicate. This is the only human interaction we have anymore. The strangest part.. Well, no one knows what to make of it. I have been here for three days, by my count. Every 24 hours, our cells move. We are shuffled, with new people through each hole. No one has any idea how. An automated system is my best guess. The only support I have for my idea is that our food is delivered through a hole in the ceiling, which I assume is mechanical. One of my "neighbors" theorized that this is Hell. Another said that we were being trapped by aliens and harvested for slaves once our wills broke. Everyone has a different theory. I am trying to find out more about what's going on here. Why we were all imprisoned, if we are connected, the reasoning behind all of this. With every switch, I'm gathering more information. Spreading it. Listening to the cell rumors, trying to figure out what's going on. Maybe... hopefully I can see my family again.

Day 4

I awoke today to the sounds of my new cellies. This is a weird batch. The alien rumor seems to have taken hold and spread through the cells. There is one person that interests me so far more than others. He claims to have been in here for over a year, the man claims to have lost track. I wouldn't blame him. Nothing can scratch these walls; nothing we do can mark the time. This information means that there's no telling how long this has been going on, or how long we are going to be trapped. The man... He seems to be nothing more than a shell. I barely got him to tell me how long he'd been in. I had heard from one of the first set of cellies I had that suicide was becoming a common occurrence within the cells. I wonder if I will ever see the man again, or if today will be one of his last.

Day 6

The fucking smell. Lady fucking luck landed me next to the first suicider I've seen so far. I can't tell what even happened. The body is so decomposed... It must have been in here for months. No telling how long before that. He.. she.. it, looks like it had its skull bashed in. I can't see it through the hole, but I assume one of the walls is covered with blood. It's probably pointless to hope, but I pray to whatever the fuck is out there that something will clean that mess up. I feel as though I'm getting sick. I can't do this anymore.

Day 7

The next switch has given me the most interesting rumor yet. A group of people called the Skinners are the subject of this rumor. It's an interesting story. All but one of my cellies knew of this rumor. There is a supposed group of people who have managed to wriggle through the holes. They have become deformed, deranged descendants of human beings. The rumor varies, however. Two of the cellies say that there is one Skinner. The other talks of many different ones. The one thing that the rumor agrees on are the amount of fucked-up these things are. Skinners are an abomination, in the best sense of the word. It makes me laugh to think that even in the worst of conditions people are believing in something as ridiculous as the "Skinners".