Member-only story
[Fiction] Lunchbox
Abducted by aliens— but why?
For the first year of my incarceration, I was convinced that their intention was to watch us suffer. I thought we were taken to be entertainment for twisted minds, that our screams and pitiful begging was simply for their amusement, but now I am starting to see things differently.
Almost nothing is known about our captors, whatever they are. They generally have little contact with us. Occasionally someone is taken at random, grabbed by long muscular tentacles, slick with dripping ooze and smelling like burnt hair. If those unlucky sods come back at all, it’s with bloody wounds and broken bones. And when asked about their experiences, they offer nothing substantive. At best, they simply stare into the void with glistening eyes and pale faces, but often, they scream inconsolably.
I came here about three years ago, according to Pamela. She keeps her insanity at bay by recording information about all newcomers. So far I have been lucky, yet to be taken, but I know it’s only a matter of time.
Some people have tried to escape of course, but they all end up back in here, sometimes with their feet ripped off, sometimes its hands. And I don’t mean cut off. No sir, I mean literally ripped off.
This place stinks of shit and piss and pain and death.
