Work Text:
It’s hard to recall how long you’ve been in here. There’s no space for movement, no room to stretch and relieve that kink in your neck that has been there for what feels like hours. Maybe you could lessen the pain if you turned your head-oh. Your face meets that of an old friend, dead and gone. Her decaying nose rubs against yours and you recoil, your knees banging hard on the side of the small confines of the refrigerator. You can’t move; four other people surround you and there’s no room for even the slightest motion. Your legs are too close to your chest, your back is twisted in ways it shouldn’t and you can’t feel your arms. But you can sure see them pressed tightly against that door in front of you with your face shoved up next to them.
You can hear voices outside. They’re speaking the names of the friends rotting around you, but never yours. They never spoke yours. A few of their words catch your attention.
“...along with our, ahem. Final living party member.”
You want to scream. You want to let them know your anger, your pain, your rage . You can’t manage more than a merger ‘honk’ through your gasps for air. They know you’re here now, but no one protests. They never protest. It’s hard to breath; there’s no air and the confinement reeks of rotting flesh. Every time you take a breath all you can taste is the bodies around you, pressing against you and crushing you, but there is never any air in your lungs...
There is no more air. There hasn’t been air for hours, the stench of the dead had stole it from you long ago. It was suffocating and you wanted to lash out and scream and cry all at the same time, but you couldn’t. You were choking on the smell and your stomach twisted in knots and you could feel the need to vomit building up inside you.
Their voices are speaking about your prison again. Maybe if you say something, maybe, just maybe someone will help you… You try to speak but you’re choking. You’re choking and all you can manage is another small ‘honk’. They hear you and they don’t care. They hear you and they ignore you. They want you here. You’re suffocating but you can’t die and they don’t care. They don’t care. You’re mind is hazy and you’re angry, you’re so angry all you can see is red.
You’re angry-you want to kill them all and make them pay for what they’ve done to you. For everything they’ve done to you. You’re choking. You’re choking…
But you’ve always been choking…