Human Man eats chicken, a human way of gaining nutrients

Chicken Abuse Pt1

The twigs snapped beneath his feet as he... Quite casually actually walked through the forest surrounding the establishment - the 'Farm' - he was currently in. From what he had learned from the older generations of homo sapiens who have dutifully taken the role of teaching juveniles, words arranged on a 'computer screen' in what they called an 'article', and the little plastics wheels that make funny noises like 'Moo' or 'Bahhh' or 'Ȧ̵̧͇̳̔̎Ứ̶̱̩̬̼̆͘G̷̣̔U̸̧̩͖͛͘U̴̧͐̈́́̓G̶̘̦͒̈́Ü̷̳͗̕Ű̵̫̏̍͘Ú̷͎̮́͜ͅR̴̭̍͋͘R̵̢̝͉͆R̵̻̝̾̔̈́R̴͎̭̊R̴̈̆̌ͅH̴͉̰̓̊͌H̸̥̞̊.̵͉̜͚̺͆.̷̖͔͌͂͘̚.̵̗̝͖̓.̵͚̙̇.̷̱̝͓̄̀̕ͅ.̴̦̖̪̿͒̂͝.̸̙̀̐̕͝.̸̰̱̅͠.̸̲̾͆.̷̳̣̩͂̏̕.̶̠̭̞̥̆̌̅̚' he quite liked the concept of farms. A flesh harvesting ring. Thousands of lesser, stupider, pounds of protein mass produced over and over. How convenient! As soon as he heard he knew he had to try one! Especially to get his hands on one type of meat; a consumable so popular every land sized human hive to measly nest had it.

Chicken.

His grossly oily hair was a thick cape around his body, clinging to him like a fly in a pool of earwax and blending him into the dark surrounding environment seamlessly. After about a minute of walking around the 'Farm's perimeter aimlessly, the sound he was looking for was finally found. It was subtle... But in the distance was the muffled cry of birds. Flightless birds. With white or brown feathers, too fat for their own good. Too fat to move. Too fat to escape. Fat enough to be a great meal! His mouth salivated at the thought, his grin stretching cheek to cheek. He immediately quickened his pace.

The panicked chirping seemed to be coming from a rather large blood-red building positioned near the edge of the establishment. Each animal's outcry sang out in a chorus of agony filled desperation that rang out through the walls like a murdered man's final scream. While this may be a torturous description to us, these wallows of sorrow were a dog whistle to our sociopathic little protagonist.

He lunged himself into the golden, glistening sunlight and hurried right over, carelessly thumping his boots on the earth with zero concern for the farmers overhearing his shameless break in. He was so close... Three... Two... One... He had finally reached his destination. The strong wooden double doors that guarded the near endless arrangement of sustenance. Waiting... Maybe not begging, more forcibly imprisoned and used for food... Still. The thought still counted. This was a true taste of true human cuisine, a flavour so common it united every single human on the planet! South to North! West to East! Everywhere! It was basically the second coming of Christ! Sublime! Devine! Its greatness further than the average human eye could see! Ah...

His whole body trembled with the rushing euphoria that was entering it. He grazed his hand on the doorway gently, taking notice of all the shallow rough dents of it's exterior. His fingers traced the white patterns on it with diligence. Soon, his palm reached the smooth, tastefully sized doorknob. He clenched it with passion. He took a deep, shaky breath.

It was time.

The old door creaked to the side as he peaked through the tiny crack. The first thing he noticed was the smell which violently forced itself out the room and up his nose like a swarm of hornets. It was dusty and pungent. Like week old dung. Then again, everything smelled like that here. It was something about the soil...??? He didn't know. He had stopped reading the 'internet article' once he got to plants. Inching the doorway forward even further, the light suddenly cut through the room like a dagger through silk. Through that small sliver he could see rows and rows of large lumps shuffling against each other frantically, as if it were one terrified creature. But it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

An involuntary gasp flung out of his mouth as his eyes laid upon the soft, fluffy protrusions that decorated each chicken. White as snow. Beaks as sharp as a knife. Legs so tiny they could barely hold themselves up... And the main attraction.

Drool frothed out of his mouth in amounts so high you'd think he had rabies. The juicy blubber filled sack weighing on their frail frame. The meat. The delicious meat. It was all there. Helpless. Perfectly in place. It was quite frankly... Beautiful. A peaceful silence spread through the room. He let time stop. This simple moment to drag on. The hushed squawking, the dark cramped enclosure, all types of waste - faeces, blood, rotting organic material - strewn on the floor. It was scenic. It was calm. Pristine. It truly took him back.

Ahhhh...

...

But this couldn't last forever. Wouldn't last forever. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He shut the door behind him, arms trembling with adrenaline. Then, he reached out.

His hand guided him down and down. Down and down to the ground below, until his fingers had wrapped around the neck of one of the unfortunate organisms. The animal froze at the touch, yet because of the cramped nature of its living space it could do nothing but stand there awkwardly - waiting for the predator to go away. And predator he was: his grasp at first was loose, revelling in the velvety soft sensation the ball of lard's outer coating had. Food was meant to be enjoyed after all. Then his grip tightened. And tightened. Slowly, but surely. His nails digging into the creatures neck like the teeth of a ravenous fox.