(Don't) Panic

XX - The Breeding I

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*trigger warning:

+ violence + self-abandonment +

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

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Nothing changed. Ever.

The sealing was the same. The floor was the same. The light was the same.

The pellets were the same. The water was the same. The litter was the same.

The things were the same. The men were the same. The routine was the same.

George and Owen didn't speak with each other anymore. They didn't have any habits anymore. After watching what was done to the maniac they had realized that there was no hope. None. All they could wish for was a quick and painless death and even that was not likely, considering the state of the maniac. They had seen him bleed out. And then the things had come and afterwards he had still been taken away to the room with the benches. He had made a valiant effort to kill himself. Something neither George nor Owen could bring themselves to do. But the things had come and stopped him. They had caged him further so that he was unable to move from his position, not his arms, not his legs, not anything, or hurt himself in a way that would endanger his life. The things still came for him. They didn't take him to the room anymore. He was stuck, caged. With no hope of getting himself out even by killing himself. They even had taken away his decision to not eat anything. A tube was placed in his throat. Force-fed, caged and amputated he was still not given the mercy of death.

...

George was brought back and lay down without casting his gaze around for Owen. It was like he was dead inside. The once well-built man had deteriorated due to the living conditions he was being held in. The eyes had lost their sparkle and the skin was hanging down his body in flaps where there once had been muscle.

Owen didn't bother looking around as he left. His subconsciousness had memorized how many steps it took for him to reach the first corner and then the next. No thought was involved when he bent the body over the bench to let the things do their work on the body. It hadn't been his body anymore since he had woken up in the first big white room directly after arriving at the concert grounds. He should have realized that long before but it had taken him seeing the maniac being deprived of everything that made him a feeling living being and degraded to an object to understand and accept it.

He walked back on auto pilot and just lay down on the floor. By now the litter was filthy, as was he. It wasn't changed. Only the dung scraper cleaned up the pens and only a small portion of it.

In the pen next to him the things started working on the maniac. He was not removed from his confinement anymore and didn't get to walk around. Even without the penis he was made to ejaculate. He should have gone straight for his nuts. Hmpf. He was too much of a nutter to think straight.