She was cold. She was not alone, huddled together for
warmth in the corner of the fiendish prison were a whole bunch of them. Just
the other day she had been free, dancing in the sunshine. Then Came the hands,
they brutally plucked her from her parents place and sold her to the highest
bidder.
Bound and gagged with a lot of others she was transported
to the city. Concrete towers and monstrous hands ruled this place she had been
told. And now she was here, powerless, against her will. In frightening details
she saw the maze of towers and the lack of sunshine.
The truck pulled up to the market, and what she saw,
rendered her speechless. There were Hundreds… No… Thousands… In a similar predicament.
Resistance was futile, she was dragged out of the caravan, washed and cleaned
and put up for display at the very center of the market. Every one of those hands
could feel her tender skin. She was the center piece of this sale. It was her
season she was repeatedly told. The hands which plucked her were already
anticipating how much this new lot of acquisitions will fetch them.
The first set of hands came, they touched and squeezed her.
The hands now started on negotiating on her price. She was being valued by her
skin color, her firmness, her smell… She was Premium, and her captors certainly
marketed her that way. Juicy!! Tender!! Firm!!
Smooth!! Voluptuous!! Supple!! They cried out long into the hot summer evening.
The ordeal finally ended. A pair of hands had paid the
required premium after caressing her, feeling her, smelling her, gently but
firmly squeezing her. She began to hope. She thought of running away to freedom.
She even hoped that this new master would set her free, and let her return to
sunshine, back to her farm. But how naïve she was. These new hands put her in a
cold prison, a huge ice box, and there were other also there. Like her the hands
had paid premium for them too.
Not even a few hours had passed that the doors to the
prison opened, a pair of hands dragged out a few of the inmates. The prison
door was shut, but the screams of the inmates could not be blocked. They screamed,
they pleaded and they cried, but to no avail … soon there was only silence… they
were done for. All she could do is
console the ones left behind and shake with fear herself. For she knew it would
be her turn soon.
The prison doors open, and the hands reach for her… She
was prepared. She did not struggle. It started immediately, she was washed and
dried and then the slow biting started. The hands held her and a mouth was
nibbling at her. It slowly peeled her clothes off with its teeth and smirked at
her. Then it started biting chunks of flesh off her. It was eating her alive.
She was too petrified to even move, the last things she saw were the hands holding her and the mouth stained by her insides. And she was no more.
The hands after this calmly tweeted out “Cold Mango for dessert
#FTW”
~Fin~
