(Don't) Panic

XIX - The Breeding I

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*trigger warning:

+ violence + self-mutilation + fear +

*the full warning and list of triggers to be found in part 2

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The only way to measure time in the pens was the regular arrival of food pellets five times a day. Days were distinguished by George and Owen by the dung scraper that took away the refuse. It had taken them some time to understand that the chamfered edge of the pen was meant to be used as the area where to relieve themselves. The days were slowly merging into each other as everything was always the same. The monotony was driving Owen up the walls. The only alternation was that they were being taken away every other day. Anything that they could decide for themselves – when to eat, drink, sleep and relive themselves – was being structured around what was being done to them. George had insisted they establish certain habits as it would keep them from going as insane as the maniac in the neighbouring pen had. That one was keeping to the corners of his pen and each time the things came to take him to the room with the slanting benches he was shouting insults at them and trying to resist being taken away.

Knowing the rhythm in which the things came to take them away, George and Owen had helped each other before being taken away. There had been no repetition of what had happened to Owen in that room the first time. He had still been invaded by the things but no man had humped him.

He watched through the bars as the pen next to Georges was opened and the man inhabiting it led away. He locked eyes with George and they both started caressing each other, trying to ready themselves for what was to come. Once the man living in the pen next to George was deposited inside his pen again, George rose to his feet and went with the things that took hold of the string connecting to his nose ring without resistance. It didn't take long for him to return and it was Owens turn to go. Passing the pens. Through the corridor. Being attached to the bar to await his turn. Approaching the bench. Humping it in the slight hope that today he would manage on his own. The feeling of something cold and slimy coating his anus. Being prodded from the inside. Ejaculating down the sleeve. Being led outside again. Back through the corridor. Along the pens. And back inside his pen.

Owen knew that the maniac next to him would struggle again for sure. He did not need to see or hear it when the things would inflict pain on the man to make him comply. He turned to George so that he wouldn't see and placed his hands over his ears. He hummed to himself and George reached through the bars, placing his hands above Owens. They weren't enough to shut out the screeches entirely. They weren't any use to shutting out the smell of burned flesh. Appalled and against his better judgement Owen turned around to see what the things had done to the maniac that resulted in the smell of burned flesh. The man was crouched down, quivering, cradling his right arm. It did not appear to be broken but the skin was of an angry red. Lights flashed between the things in rapid succession. Then one grabbed the string connecting to the nose ring and the other closed in on the maniac. That one retreated further back until he was crouching with his back to the bars. A harsh tug on the nose ring made him fall forward face first, crushing his damaged arm between his torso and the floor. More screeching ensued, wordless, high-pitched wails that spoke of pain. He was dragged out of the pen by his nose ring. Paralyzed Owen watched as blood started gushing down the maniacs front and as the man scrambled to his feet to obey the things dragging him along. The anguished screams didn't stop being audible for the whole time the man was gone and when he was being deposited back in the pen next to Owen, he just stood there, clutching his nose. The noise of the food falling down the chute made him jump and he spurred into action. As if he had planned to do so all along, the maniac started scratching away at the base of his penis. He more or less instantly drew blood as he opened the sensitive skin and it flowed stronger the deeper he dug. He fell to his knees and dug on, now covered in his own blood all over his abdominal area, down to his knees and from his fingers to his elbows. He displayed astounding agility when falling further down to lay on his left side and planting his right foot firmly on the ground right before his crotch. One hand pulled the foot closer, the other grabbed the mangled remains that still connected to the maniacs body and, using the ankle to pull the penis around and against, ripped the appendage off of his body.