Meeting Merle, Redux

Chapter 2: Mud

It had flooded again. Every time it rained, we got close to flooding. Once or twice before the rain had succeeded in its quest to make us miserable. The day before, it was terrible. All twenty or so of us had huddled on the platforms, the only spot in the whole cell that could possibly keep us dry. We watched as the rain poured outside the cage until it overflowed the concrete barrier and poured in. The entire days worth of food was destroyed, the retched oatmeal soaked with muddy water. The water drained out shortly after the rain stopped, but the mud was left behind. It soaked us up to the shins.

Of course, the next morning, those creatures came again. They were oddly dog like, their faces furred and long, ears big and pointed like a German Shepard's. They didn't sound like dogs and walked on two legs. It was almost as mortifying to see these creatures as you'd imagine any other alien would be. They may as well have been slimy with a few hundred extra teeth for all they terrified me.

They came to our cage just like every morning, replacing our food and water before abandoning us like every other retched day. We weren't at all happy to see them, if anything we were even more scared than usual. The few times the cage had flooded in the months I'd been there had been unpleasant the next day. We were all inevitably forced into a different, smaller cage and sprayed with water even more frigid than the rain. We would be left in the small, 10' by 10' cage for hours without a towel or blanket until we'd dried off and were forced back into the larger, still muddy cage. This would continue every day until the mud had dried out. While i had been missing out on a shower, it was a far more unpleasant ordeal than the body odor I had long since grown used to.

That morning, however, there was no such shower. We were all relieved to see them feed us and leave, despite the grimaces they gave us that could only be an expression of disgust. Hungry from the lack of food for most of the day before, we shared the food amongst each other as soon as they had left. It didn't take long for other of these "Dog-men" to shuffle through the prison, staring at each of the cages. The only thing that kept us from fleeing was the difference in clothing. The ones that ever opened the cage wore the same lime green shirts. The hundreds of creatures that shuffled through the place wore a variety of clothing. They might try to touch us through the bars, pull our hair or grab our arms, but they never entered the cell and we were safe from them inside.

I had been there the longest out of anyone there. I watched person after person arrive bright eyed but terrified until they slowly lost hope. I sat on a platform and watched those same people, often times just as young as I was, get dragged off by those creatures for who knows what purposes. I saw doctors, artists, writers, and college students get put in that torture cell just long enough to break.

I had long since broken. I was one of the last to eat, the only reason I ate at all were the people who had been here nearly as long as I had. They made me eat, saved me food, until they, too, lost hope. I had made escape plans, launched ingenious attempts, and watched them crash and burn. We tried to make our food more palatable, tried to learn the language of our captors, and cried when we found that none of us could pronounce a single word. I watched the friends I had made be taken from me and replaced with new people.

The others gave me my space most of the time now. The platform I had claimed was low down and not particularly desirable, it barely had enough space for myself. There were just enough tattered blankets for all of us, and I used mine as a pillow after much debate and experimentation. On colder nights it was used for its intended purpose, but i always woke up uncomfortable.

I was sitting on my platform when another Dog-man walked by our cage. He walked a little differently, but I hardly noticed. I was busy picking mud off my legs and tattered jeans that I had been wearing for months to pay him much mind. I had continued with my disinterested grooming until I heard the doors of the cell open.

I was on the opposite side of the cage when they opened. Everyone else bolted to my corner, practically surrounding me. One or two of the newer people tried to attack, getting pushed haphazardly to the ground like they were children trying to beat up a body builder.

Whenever the creatures entered the cage like this, they were very specific about who they took. They never switched focus from person to person, and they always caught who they were after. I'd seen one person break a bone trying to get away. As scared as I was, I didn't budge from my spot. I doubted they were there for me anyways, and if they were, I wasn't getting away.

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. Of course, the one time I didn't run, it was my turn. That's how things usually go, and I was no different. I struggled when they finally grabbed me. I kicked and cried with the little energy i had, helpless like an infant. They laughed at me as I tried in vain to protect myself.

I didn't give up on the fight until they had left the entire complex, the Dog-man from before leading the way to the wretched vehicle that would take me to what I was certain would be my death.