Taylor’s Dream

The environment was very dank and warm. He couldn’t be sure if the water rolling off of him was the moisture accumulating on his body, or his sweat. He felt drunk, attempting not to give into a woozy slump. Everything was black as if his eyes weren’t open at all.. Before long he came to the realization that he was tied down to a chair. He wore his black pants and shirt, so it was clear he wasn’t taken from his bed, but how did he get here? The floor beneath was like concrete. He could feel granules of sand under his bare feet upon what was clearly a very messy floor, splinters almost breaking off in his skin from the chair he was bound to. He struggled for a moment, though to no avail. Struggle any harder and he may just tip over the creaking wooden chair he was bound to.

He huffed in exasperation, hearing his echo come back at him, followed by more echoes.. Foot steps? He looked up to the source of the sound of shoes stepping upon what sounded like a metal walk suspended in the air, like what one would find in a warehouse. He was right.. Seconds later the sounds of large, industrial lights came clicking on, followed by light, finally… Where he looked he saw a familiar face. He was a man in his later 40’s or early 50’s. Fair skinned with grey and white hair slicked back, and a full, well trimmed beard. The man was clearly of high status by his expensive suit and tie.. Taylor scowled as he looked at the man far above upon the metal walk, turning his attention to the rest of the warehouse. He was is a rendering plant.. He knew immediately because it belonged to his family. The place was used for processing the bodies of dead farm animals, any where from bovine to swine, and in some cases below the radar, to discretely dispose of human corpses. He was being held in his own family property by Russian gun runners and he knew exactly why.

Minutes felt like hours, and nothing was happening. He watched in agony as people walked in and out of the warehouse, and before long he started yelling out in anger and confusion. He wouldn’t be held like this if they weren’t planning on killing him, so why wasn’t anybody doing anything? He continued to struggle, unable to thrash as he was attempting to. He wore himself out quickly, panting in exhaustion before looking back up. To his horror, the power came on to the industrial meat grinder, used to grind down large animal remains for various poultry and domestic animal consumption. He struggled again, panting heavily as the sound of laughing came from above, Taylor shooting his haunted gaze upward to the man he had witnessed earlier. This was vengeance for Taylor’s actions.. he knew.. He felt a terrible wrath take him, and despite being spent of energy, he screamed out in rage at the ones holding him here. There was no wit or conscious thought coming to him. Everything was pain and hate and it manifested through his roars. He seethed, panting through clenched teeth as he stared up at the mocking grin far above.

Before too long he felt himself being lifted. The chair he was tied down to was being lifted by an industrial hook lift. He’d never felt fear or desperation this heavy before. The lift was pulling him upward, his wide eyes thrusting towards the man who kept him here, but he had changed.. To his horror the man was but a skeleton, the grin still prevalent in that skull of his.. He hyperventilated, seeing the hook was lifting him to the grinder, he now high enough in the air to see the teeth of the machine tearing away at the air, rusted gears turning as the mouth of the machine seemed almost to widen. Time slowed down to a snails pace and he watched, unable to speak or yell out as the hook began lowering him at the metal, grinding teeth. He approached with in inches, and as a terrified yell escaped him, the skeleton laughed.. The hook gave and dropped its cargo, and in that moment he awoke to a dark room, shooting up in his bed, his hands running nervously through his hair. This was too real…

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~ by komicks on August 7, 2011.

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