Predatory DietMature

Another dream I had.... There will be a part two. There's a bit of graphic violence and a lot of swear words.

‘Well? Get over here and help me out now!’  The Lieutenant said as he stirred the pot of putrid meat. What type of meat was that you ask? The leftover remains of the last kids that disobeyed him. We all shuffled over to him, as we didn’t really want to be near him. We didn’t have a clue what he wanted us to do. We formed a tight, sullen group in front of the kitchen door.  ‘That’s better! Now! Put your aprons on, then, get your ears cleared out as I’m only going to tell you your job once! If you don’t do it correctly, you’re going in the pot as well!’ The Lieutenant barked.  We all quickly scurried over to retrieve our aprons from the locker and put them on. Ten aprons remained in the locker. Most were dusty. We all lined up to receive our orders. ‘What took you so fucking long? Jesus fucking Christ! You little shits make me so angry! Now! The first three of you! I want you guys to set up the table! Knives, forks, salt, peppers, everything! Second three! Tidy this fucking place up! It’s a fucking mess! Third three! You have the job of washing up before and after dinner! I don’t want a fucking speck of dirt left on any of the dishes! Do you hear me? Who’s left? Two people? Okay! Davidson! I want you to take out the trash! Jones! I want you to bury the evidence where no one will find it! Now get to it!’ The Lieutenant ordered. At least I got to take out the trash instead of having to bury my comrades. Everyone dashed to get their chore’s done. I tied up all the bags fill of food and “meat scraps” and went down the kitchen stairs to the bin chutes. The chutes were built into the walls that lead to the bins outside. There’s only one way outside but we can’t access it because of the guard dogs. It has been two years since I’ve laid my eyes on the outside world. My parents promised me that this would straighten me out and get me to behave and it would only last six months, so that was when they would come and get me. I haven’t seen them since they dropped me off. No letter, no phone call, no nothing. I dump the contents of the kitchen bins into the chutes and carry the empty kitchen bins back upstairs. You don’t cry or feel any kind of emotion in this place, or else you’re given something to cry about. I’ve got the scars to prove it.  I come back to the kitchen and the place is in an uproar. Someone pissed off the Lieutenant. Just like a shadow, I put the kitchen bins back where they were and slip into my place at the table unnoticed. I keep my head down and eyes fixed on the table. Anyone caught looking at the Lieutenant while he’s giving out to someone gets punished as well. The punishment received is based on his mood, no what you’ve done wrong. A note is discretely passed onto my lap by the person seated to the left of me.  Only one word is written on it to avoid detection. Another note is passed along to me from the other side of me. I glanced at them briefly before shoving them in my pocket so no one gets caught. ‘Jones’ and ‘Interruption’ were written on them. I sighed mentally. Poor, silly Jones. He was the only kid put in here to build his confidence. He never caused trouble before he was put in here. The Lieutenant doesn’t like manners unless it’s “sir”. It was painful to listen to the physical and verbal beating Jones was receiving. There was nothing we could do though. If we try to stop the Lieutenant, we will receive Jones’ punishment and Jones will go into the pot after being brutally killed. The thuds were getting less and less frequent. The punishment must nearly be over.  ‘Don’t ever fucking do that to me again! Do you fucking hear me?!’ The Lieutenant roared into Jones’ face. There was a moment of silence. Jones knows better than to talk, he must nod once, and once only. He does because the next minute I hear the Lieutenant shout ‘Right! Get the fuck over to that table now and I don’t want to hear no more cheek from you! Quick now or you’ll get another round!’ I heard Jones leap up and scurry quickly to his place at the table despite the obvious pain that he is in. We still didn’t look up. ‘Right! Everyone get up and form an orderly queue and get your dinner, not that any of you little shits deserve it!’ The top of the right side of the table gets up first, and everyone follows from there. We really don’t want to eat our comrades, but I guess we’re just resigned to doing so. We’ll get nothing else.  Two ladles full is all we get as well. The queue moves quickly and efficiently, desperate to just choke down the meal and get it over and done with. I collect my portion and sit back down in my seat. I ignore the smell while eating so I don’t throw it back up. We have to leave no scrap behind, or we eat off the floor for breakfast. No conversation is passed over dinner, we eat in silence without looking at each other. If you finish, you have to sit there in complete silence, without looking at everyone until all the clinking of forks against the plates has finished. When everyone was finally finished, we all took our dishes to the sink and left them to the person washing the dishes for the day. The rest of us went back to our separate rooms and laid down on our beds, on our backs, arms to our sides, not moving. The Lieutenant came along and locked each of the doors, bolt and all. Our rooms were bare, nothing in it but the mattress on the floor, and even the mattress was old.  The one washing the dishes is the only one with their door unlocked as they have to get themselves to bed. This is also a ploy by the Lieutenant to see if anyone is stupid enough to try to escape. The Lieutenant finished locking all the doors, bar one, and turned off the lights. He walked away to the other side of the building to his luxury suite. We heard the kid who was washing the dishes walk down the hall to his room, running his hand along the wall so he doesn’t get lost in the darkness and counting the rooms to his one. He finally found it, opened the doors and shut it behind him. We all then curled up to sleep. We had no blanket or anything to cover ourselves or keep us warm. I curled up tighter to keep as much of the cold out and fell asleep. I dreamed that same dream again. Where I killed the Lieutenant and everyone else, then set the building on fire. Everyone died screaming and begging to be let out. Well, except the Lieutenant. He just ordered me to open the doors. All I did was walk away from the spot. I then wake up to the sound of the lights being turned back on. It must be sunrise. I get out of bed and stand up straight against the back wall. The door open, but it wasn’t the Lieutenant that opened the door, it was the person who washed the dishes earlier. Now that I got a proper look at him, I realised it was Burns. Everyone was behind him. ‘You in or are you not in?’ Burns said in a lowered voice. I guess it’s now or never. ‘In’ I said without hesitance. We walked down the hallway silently, straight down to kitchen. We walked into the kitchen and silently took all the sharp knives and aprons in it. We then headed down to the Lieutenants end of the building. That’s the only exit, in the Lieutenants room.  We reach the Lieutenants room, and kick down the door. The Lieutenant instantly jumps out with the sound and was about to give out to hell to us when Burns instantly jumps forward and stabs him in the arm. Jones then jumps onto the bed and deals the Lieutenant a swift blow to the chin, then the jaw, knocking him out flat. We bind the Lieutenant to the bed with the aprons and then proceeded to kick down the exit door. We rush down the steel ramp and open the door to the outside night breeze, only to be confronted by two agitated German Shepards. We all pounce on them and stab them to death. We then ran straight into the woods, hoping it would lead us to civilization. We stopped running after 30 minutes because we encountered a fence with barbed wire on top. We use our knives to quickly slice through the fencing and helped each other through it. We then started walking through the rest of the woods, looking for any signs of lighting from houses or street lights. It must have been three hours before we found anything that remotely looked like it came from civilization, as dawn started to break. It was a path. We slapped each other on the back and followed the trail. Whatever came our way, we could get through it. We went to the police station to file our report. We were taken to the back room to explain our case. To be continued....

The End

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