Madelyn was born in a world, one where morals were thrown from one's conscious mind without afterthought. It wasn't a place worth fighting for any longer. Nothing was worth anything except living, living on this miserable planet until the inevitable...
As my breath steadied, glances from other humans in curiosity would avert from mine. The sound of cricket's melodies seemed to be thundering in the silence of the night- though it was likely because most others were asleep- and the remaining utterly drained and hopeless, speech just an unneeded effort now. Chirp- Chirp- Chirp- the bugs went on with their singing, then stopped with a foreshadowing essence. The insects were now silent, and my inhalation of air held as my thought's swirled.
He was here. The Butcher Pig.
With the removal of the only noise- the cricket's having stopped as to not alert nearby predators- I could faintly make out the heavy wheezes of a larger individual or...creature might I say.
A shadow, illuminated by the faint iridescent moonlight, began to warp from the perspective of the metal door several steps from my cage. It grew in size- shape, uncanny and utterly terrifying. My breath continued, though it came in light quantities, perhaps saving the rest as reserves in case I'd just collapse right then and there of pure fright.
The sound of a faint click, then hooves against gravel as a staggering bestial mammal entered. Its skin was an unnatural shade of pink, coarse, wiry hair's sticking from it in various directions, each individual strand a sort of blondish pigment. The face was scrunched up- a veil of porcine features with irregularly miniature pupils that shone with malevolent intelligence along with an aura of predatory gluttony.
On it, a bloodied apron adorned itself loosely along its bloated stomach, the fabric stained and stiffened due to the butcher's grisly profession. Sweat marks darkened the matted tufts of animal hair, the nauseating reek of its exertion's wafting through the air, a foul blend of gore, waste, and offal.
Each movement of the beast was performed with a twisted grace, its bulky, muscled proportions stiffening and quivering beneath its greasy hide. Its approach was leisure and deliberate, savoring the forthcoming agony to come to a randomized victim in the warehouse.
Several humans had awoken now and waited in abrupt terror as their eye's darted away from the beast, not wishing to bring its attention to themselves. I followed along, my eye's hurriedly rushing to gaze at my dirtied palm's that waited with anticipation at my side.
Clutched in the butcher's hand was a ginormous cleaver, along with a severely smaller sized one stuffed slackly into the skin folds of the mammal. The stainless steel rattled against numerous cages of the human's stored inside, each rushing back as the pig proceeded to startle them into submission as it waltzed forward. Closer, and closer it would approach to my own cage, it's eye's moving from the entrapped organism's, to the one's further ahead.
Please not me. Please I'm not ready- please...
I'd whisper inaudibly the prayers of the Lord that my mother had previously taught me years ago, scurrying through Saint Micheal the Archangel, when I'd pause in horror as the pig stood right outside my own case.
I was chosen.
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