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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/974227-Being-A-Freight
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Rated: XGC · Book · Horror/Scary · #2187629
Suitable refuse.
#974227 added January 26, 2020 at 7:00am
Restrictions: None
Being A-Freight!
I thought this box held my salvation, but it looks more like my doom.

Apt really.

What does a butcher's box contain other than the cold remnants of death?

From a sparse burning town to a cramped freezing hell, I can't help see the irony.

Was I wrong to think sneaking out was my only option?

I watched my family die one by one.

Some gunned down by faceless marauders, others strangled by the smoke from their burning houses, and some, like my mother, by their own hands.

She smiled as she swung from the balcony.

Her eyes became sunken pits of despair, though her lips were upturned, nearing contentment.

I see that fearful peace whenever I close my eyes, and I'm starting to understand it.

Darkness hides the extent of my destruction, but I feel the pain beneath the shivering.

Should I have stayed and died with the others?

No, if I die here, at least I tried.

I can't believe I snuck aboard a freighter; this isn't like me.

Oh well, nothing to do now but die alone.

Even if I got out of this crate, I doubt I'd be able to escape the freezer on my own.

It's gargantuan, and I've grown weak.

The isolation's taken its toll on me as I'm sure I hear a rapping against the crate.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Are you still alive in there?"

Either I'm going mad, or somebody's speaking.

My frigid lips try to piece together a response, but can't.

"I saw you sneak into this crate before they nailed it shut. You're not in any trouble, but you might be soon. That meat you're surrounded by is tainted."

He sounds worried, and I try harder to speak, but can't do more than chatter my teeth.

"If you can hear me, stay away from the lid, I'm opening her up."

Can freedom be so easily attained?

I don't have time to think as light pours over me, cutting through my dark hell.

Though I'm momentarily blinded, I feel his wandering gaze tear holes through me.

Bestial claws rend my blanket to shreds, exposing my bare flesh to the harsh cold.

I know he won't save me, but I'm powerless to stop him.

"You are still alive, and it's yet to infect you. Oh, we'll dine like kings. You are free to join us if you'd like. I'll start with a few strips here and there. You'll barely notice anything's missing. No need to slaughter the hog when we can shave the piggy first, right?"

Limp chunks of gray flesh dangle and slip onto me as his stiff arms scoop me up.

My sight returns with a vengeance, and with one glimpse of his horrific face, I fade away.

I've traveled from one hell to another, and there is nowhere to escape but within myself!
© Copyright 2020 Laurie Razor (UN: laurie-razor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/974227-Being-A-Freight