Sorry, I'm Not Into Bestiality

Chapter 29 -- Chloe

*** SOME REALLY WEIRD SHIT GOES ON IN THIS CHAPTER SO... YEAH, JUST A WARNING!***

Chapter 29

CHRIS'S POV

The first thing that hit me was the smell.

I jumped awake with a loud intake of breath, my voice rasping slightly from lack of use. I involuntarily coughed due to my throat being so dry and clogged along with the fact that the room smelt strongly of rotting flesh, as I attempted to take in my surroundings with a throbbing leg and abdominal area.

Why can't I move...?

Blinking, the room I was in slowly stopped spinning; the blurriness that surrounded it gradually coming in and out of focus with every eye closure. Looking down, I was met with the sight of my body in the same clothes I had worn while visiting a suspected rogue den, but torn and bloody with a large stain on my stomach. I soon came to realise that the reason I couldn't move was because I was sat up on the wall with my arms chained to the wall with what must've been silver lined metal.

Slowly rolling my head, I took in the environment I was in; the dark dank conditions of the small prison like cell revealing that I was in some sort of containment. Squinting past the open bars, the sound of heavy slicing came to my attention.

However, once I realised what was happening, I seriously wished I had never woken up.

A butcher stood just a few meters away from the cell, his back turned to me as he had a heavy meat knife in his hands. Even from a distance I could see the red stains on his hands and apron, while he threw down the chopping knife heavily into a carcass.

A carcass wearing Steve's wristwatch.

I couldn't see clearly, but I definitely made out the lower arm with the silver watch being cut and thrown on the floor to the side, in the pile of other unimaginable pieces of different people. I held back vomit as I realised what this den was actually doing, and what was most likely happening to those corpses.

Oh shit, Steve...

It finally hit me that my close friend for over two decades was now most probably dead and being chopped up to pieces right in front of me; the reality of it all coming in full force as I fought the urge to breakdown and let the emotions which were currently willing for me to cry or smash the place into a million tiny pieces.

But more than anything...? I felt mad.

Real mad.

I had to put a stop to all this. I would avenge Steve as if it was my own life. I would avenge the boy who I used to make mud pies with. The teenager who would host parties with me, and the adult who'd help me with--

Suddenly, the butcher stopped mid chop and twitched his head to the side as if he heard something. I froze as he spun around to face me while holding his bloody knife in one hand, a surgical mask placed over his mouth, "Oh, you're awake."

I silently glared as he went over to the com on the side of the wall and picked up a walkie-talkie of some sort, turning to look at me as he held it close to his face, "Hey, tell Malcolm his new pet is awake."

Pet?

"You're going to have some fun." He chuckled, before wiping his hands on his apron and smiling from his beneath his mask as he exited the metal room with the smell of rotting flesh. The heavy door shut with a load clap as he exited, allowing me a few seconds of silence afterwards before I began yanking the chains which held up either arm next to me and dug into my wrists painfully. I was slowly feeling fear starting to seep into my being, and knew that if something didn't happened soon; I was going to have to do something stupid.