Run For Your Life

To Hell

Song: Devil Town by Cavetown

April 28

Mike Hanlon.

His family owned a local farm in Derry, Maine. It was really growing too. Especially thanks to Mike's side business.

No one knew about it, though.

Almost everyday Mike would pedal to town, selling the meats produced by the farm. Only it wasn't exactly what the buyers thought it was.

Mike didn't hand out cow or goat or any other option of the sort. How could he? Those were his only friends.

Years ago Mike was doing his chores, causing no trouble and minding his own business. He was the sweeper, the cleaner. He'd feed and clean the animals, as well as the rest of the barns.

It was a family owned business at first, which is why his uncle was the one to pull him from his duties and hand over the gun. Mike was confused, of course. He'd never held a gun before. His father used to try and bring him out hunting when he was younger, but he always made excuses.

Now he has no excuse. There's a gun in his hand and a shouting man at his side. Kill the sheep kill the cow kill the pigs kill kill kill...

Then Mike realized something. The gun is in his hand. And with that thought, the fifteen year old aimed it at the man, who he thought to be his family. Luckily no one was around to see the show.

The boy forced the man into a shed, far away from any living being in sight. He locked him there, fed him there. And when the time came, Mike even killed him there. That's not the end, though.

He chopped him up and fed him to the town.

It continued on like this for years. He'd sell the men who hurt his friends. Not another animal was killed with him working the farm. His grandparents grew suspicious with all the missing family members and employees. Soon they had to hire men who weren't blood relatives. But they had no choice.

And Mike still continued to go about his business. He'd take them back and slit their throats and skin them how he'd been taught. The boy never tasted it, even though it really was a hit. They'd never been so busy since he'd started selling the false meat. The butchers around town went crazy over it.

He could've kept it going, but one day he was caught with a gun to a workers head. Still, it's funny. They never did find out about the rest, and they only sent him off to get help from the local mental hospital.

Mike kept it up for awhile, starting when he was fifteen. He'd only been caught after he was seventeen. And after the boy was put in, he found out there was no farm at all. The meat just wasn't the same and so they had to call it quits.

It's a shame. He was hoping when he got out he'd start it back up. Oh well.

He quite likes his life here. Free meals and free clothes. No work. It's nice, relaxing. For the most part, at least.

Mike was one of the more well liked. He hid his hatred for humans well. He never fussed or caused problems, which led to special treatment and extra television time. The boy had learned to be a suck up, which works quite well in his favor now.

Sometimes he'd witness kids get dragged to hell. Mike sees the pain in each individual and wishes he could only help. But there's nothing he can do but watch as the patients scream in pain.

Another privilege of his is that he gets extra time out of his room. Even at night. Which is when he hears the screams. And there's always screaming, but this is different. He'd only been taken back once for a "therapy" session. It's all still fuzzy, but he knows he'd never wish it upon anyone.