The Butcher House

Chapter One

I usually avoid these writer's notes, but I need to leave this one here for both information and a warning sake. This plot isn't mine, I didn't think it up. I adopted it from ClariiY, which explains the dedication. 

Secondly, this story is not for the faint of heart or stomach. Though, I'm not sure if my writing will actually cause someone to be sick to their stomach, but it might get to that point. So, here is fair warning. 

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Chapter One

Out in the middle of nowhere, does the sun shine brighter without all of the buildings? Is it more pure? 

Sunlight is a happy thing, casting away the shadows of the night and sheds light upon things that we couldn't see before. It takes away fear, it opens up a new day and signifies a new beginning. Sunlight is innocent, happy, and pure. 

What is going on down below in the field of a small farm is not pure or innocent by any length of the imagination. 

A shovel digs into the soft dirt, the early morning sun shining merrily down upon a pair of broad shoulders, sweat starting to cover his forehead. A girl is standing beside him, her body dressed in a rather dirty shirt and jeans, the fabric stained with a suspicious substance. Her cheeks specked with dirt and freckles, her reddish-brownish hair falling into her face as she places a sack down on the ground beside her companion. 

The sack is wet, dripping red. 

The man stops, looking down into the hole as he stabs the shovel into the dirt. The dirt all around them is upturned and sort of damp, it has been that way for a long time. No crops or plants of any sort growing in the patches by the far side of the field, though nobody rarely suspected anything.

They were just farmers. 

"It's deep enough," the man said, breathing harshly as he stretched out his back, "I'm getting too old for this."

The woman smiled slightly, bending down to pull the wet sack towards the hole. "I'm not surprised there, Jeff," she remarked, "but you swore to this cause, and you said you would stick it out to the very end."

"I didn't say anything about quitting," Jeff snapped, stepping back from her as she stopped right above the hole, opening the top of the bag. 

"I only want a different job, maybe one where I am actually inside the Slaughterhouse?" 

"We all know that you will only hurt the pigs," the woman replied, lifting the bottom of the sack up and dumped the contents into the hole, chunks of flesh and bone landing into the soft dirt below, innards following with a loud splat. 

"Well, Lord knows they deserve it," Jeff muttered, picking up the shovel again as the woman tossed the sack into the hole with it's remaining contents. 

"You really think we need to keep doing this?" the woman asked, stepping back as Jeff walked forward to dump dirt into the hole. "I mean, we have killed so many of them already, and it seems like nobody is getting the big picture here."

Jeff looked up from the hole, "you know who gets the picture, Lea?" he asked, "the souls resting in these holes and the pigs inside the Slaughterhouse."

Lea looked down into the hole, "pork is still being sold in the stores, Jeff."