Meat

Troy awoke with a shock. He had no idea where he was, but one thing was for certain: his head throbbed like never before. He felt around in the dark trying to get his bearings. The floor was cold and moist. “Where am I?” He whispered to himself. The words stung his head even more. It hurt to talk. It hurt to think. But he had to know. He sat up on the filthy floor. The sharp throbbing in his head continued. He ran a hand through his short blond hair and tried to stand. He fell back to the floor in a heap of pain and dizziness. What had happened to him?

He sat on the floor for a few moments to let the dizziness pass. He then tried again with more success to stand up. His head banged like a tambourine, but he was able to make it to his feet. It was still dark where he was. Almost pitch black. In the dark, he was able to barely make out the shape of something round hanging in the middle of the room. He reached for it. After flailing for a few moments, he was able to grab hold of a thin string. With a click, the light in the middle of the room buzzed to life. It wasn’t bright, but it was sufficient for Troy to see around the room more. There wasn’t much. A door. No windows. A bucket. A drain in the middle of the floor. The air tasted of mildew and rot. He was in some sort of cell. “Let me out!” He screamed. His head throbbed and and pounded. He felt as if his brain were going to explode. “Gaaaaahhhh!” He cried out in anguish, clutching his head, dropping to his knees. As the thudding subsided, he dared not move. “What is going on…?” He whimpered.

Several minutes passed before he was able to coax himself into moving again. The throbbing began to fade, albeit slowly. He stood again, this time expending his energy to search his immediate surroundings, hoping for a way out. He tried the door. There was no handle on his side. It was heavy and metal. The walls appeared to be solid concrete. There was visible way out. Troy continued to search the room and then he noticed the bucket. His head still felt fuzzy, but he was able to shamble into the corner and examine the container. It was too dark where he was to see inside, but upon lifting it, it seemed there was something inside. He brought the bucket closer into the light.

The bulb was particularly dim and it was still hard to see inside, but after a few moments of shifting the contents, he came to the conclusion the bucket was partially filled with meat. Raw, bloody meat. He dropped the bucket to the filthy floor. It landed on its bottom, splashing a small amount of blood up onto his legs. Troy began to dry heave. At that point he realized there was nothing in his stomach. He was hungry. Starving. The thudding in his head was beginning to come back. And then the voice came, “EAT.” In the upper corner of the room was a camera. Troy had completely missed the dull red light, the recording light. Next to it was a speaker. “EAT.” Came the voice again.

“Eat what?” Asked Troy. There was nothing in the room that immediately showed itself as edible. He would have eaten a live rat if that would get him out of that room. “Where is my family?”
“EAT.” Said the voice again.
“Eat shit!” He said. “Let me out of here!”
“EAT.”
Troy was becoming furious at the voice. He punched the wall, immediately wincing at the pain. “Fuck!” He called out.
“EAT.”

Troy walked to the corner of the cell, underneath the camera and sat. He didn’t want to be seen. He didn’t want to be recorded. His stomach rumbled. He was hungry. Very hungry. He began to sob. He didn’t want to consume that flesh in the bucket. He had no idea where it came from. It could be anything.

“YOU WILL BE FREED AFTER YOU EAT.” Explained the voice.
Troy began to sob into his hands, “I don’t want to eat it.”
“EAT.”
Troy bawled harder.
“EAT AND YOU WILL BE FREE.”
“I just want to see my family…” Troy’s voice trailed off. His stomach rumbled again. He looked at the bucket, illuminated under the direct light of the dim bulb. He wanted to see his family again. He shifted and then began to crawl towards the bucket. He was sickened by the thought of consuming this putrid flesh, but if it brought him back to his family, he was finally willing. He would eat.

He sat in the middle of the floor, legs wrapped around the bucket. “Is this what you want??” He shouted at the camera as he reached his hand in. The flesh was cold and slimy. He recoiled in an instant once he felt it. “You sick fucks! Is this what you want!?” He shot his hand back into the bucket and pulled out a strip of bloody flesh. He brought it to his face and then hesitated. Was he really about to do this? Was he going to eat this meat, this bloody flesh? Troy shut his eyes tight and shoved the meat into his mouth. It tasted horrible, like raw pork. Pork. He told himself it was only pork. What else could it be? He stifled a stomach heave as he swallowed and then shoved more meat into his mouth. He was doing it. He was eating as he was instructed. He hoped and prayed this would truly allow him to be reunited with his family.
He would have hoped being so hungry would help him consume his meal, but the taste, the texture, it was all too much. Troy couldn’t hold it in anymore. He turned to the side and vomited hard.
“EAT.” Said the voice, this time booming louder than before. Troy shoved more meat into his mouth. He felt packed to the gills, even though he’d just puked up much of what he’d eaten. He knew he couldn’t stop, though. He continued stuffing his face with the sickening flesh from the bucket until there was none left. His belly hurt. There was still a resonating dull thud in his head. He couldn’t take anymore if he tried.
“There.” Troy said, flicking blood and filth from his hands. He tipped the bucket over. What remained of the blood at the bottom flowed freely into the drain in the center of the floor. “It’s done.” He stifled another heaving. He could still taste the rancid flesh in the back of his throat.
There was a low, but audible click at the door. It began to creak ever so slightly. Troy was filled with hope. He was finally going to be able to see his family once again! Ignoring the pain in his head and stomach, ignoring the emetic feeling that permeated his whole body, he shot up from his spot in the center of the floor and bolted for the door. When he reached it, he could smell the dank, but fresher air leaking in. He through the door open to see a dark corridor in front of him. Down the corridor were similar light bulbs hanging symmetrically, barely luminous. There were various cell doors lining the hall, but one in particular was open. What caught his eye was a body laying on the floor. It was a female body with long, dark, messy hair. She was nearly naked, save for a basic bra and panties.
“Monica?” He called out to the body. She began to stir. Troy carefully crept down the hall towards her. “Monica, is that you?”
“Troy?” Her voice was weak. He came upon her and was able to confirm in the dim light it was her. She was dirty and ragged. Her belly was distended just as his. Had she been put through the same ordeal he had?
“Monica, can you get up?” He asked as he knelt by her side. She slowly sat up and leaned against the wall.
“Troy,” she whispered. “Where are we? Why are we here?”
“I—I don’t know. But it’s over now, I think. Can you stand up?”
She struggled, but was able to make it to her feet with his help.
“Oh my God, I missed you, Troy!” She said as they embraced. They then turned and hobbled toward the exit doors. Just as they reached their destination, Monica stopped. “Troy?”
“Yeah?” He leaned against the doors. It was hard to keep them both up.
“Where,” She stammered a little. His stomach dropped. Something told him he already knew what she was going to ask. “Where are the kids?”
They both turned and looked at each other and then back down the hall and then back at each other. Monica dropped to her knees and began to bawl into her hands. Troy turned and began to vomit violently.