Warmth. I felt that once. It felt nice. It smelt good. It was tasty. I really want that warmth again. I wonder if I could grasp it in my hands and eat it. That way it wouldn't go away again.
It's not warm now. Nope. I really want it to be warm again. I wonder if that big Thing outside can give it to me. It told me that I wasn't allowed to be warm. I think so too.
Sometimes that Thing becomes a lot. It becomes so, so many! When that happens, my face makes a face. That thing told me to make that face when they come inside.
Ah! Look! I made the face!! See! This part of my lower face becomes realllllyyyyyy looonng! Also this part- yeah, this part becomes round. I have one more part like this part. That too becomes round! It's a funny face. It's unpleasant.
Those things say that if I don't make that face, they'll take my face away since I wasn't using it. They said they'll give it to the other friends. I ate so many friends. The things don't eat friends. They cut them up so they can make that face and have fun. Friends don't make that face. That's why they are given to me to eat. I can't eat those thing's num-num. They said it was only for 'Oomans'. They call them selves 'Oomans'. Even though I have the same face as them. And I eat the same way as them. And I look like them too. Just a bit smaller.
If I somehow become bigger, will they call me their friend too?
It's a rule. Obey. Always obey. If you don't then you'll become num-num for friends. Friends. I heard that's what the things call each other.
My friends are nice. Some of them come from those Things that have biiiiiiig Tumms. The Things with big Tumms always make noise when the friends come out. They also make noise when the 'Oomans' play with them
Sometimes the Big Tumms are very still. So the other Things cut the Tumm and remove the friends. Then the friends are given to others. Some of them are for me.
I like playing with the friends that come out of big Tumms. But they Come and Go and Come and Go and Come and Go. The ones that go are num-num. The ones that come make noise. They make lots of noise.
I wonder what the Things do to them to make noise. I Make noise sometimes too. But sometimes the noise doesn't come. Maybe I use it too much so it disappears. I Make noise when the 'Oomans' come inside.
They hold me and do lots and lots of things to me. Sometimes they hold me down and make my sitting part and my Tumm hurt. They make faces and strange noise. But that's okay. At least they aren't making me go to the Outside.
Outside? ....
Why am I Outside? No.
No. No. no no no o.no No No No no Nnnnno no Outside. No no Outside NO NO NO NO no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no Ou- out-outside? no no no no No NO nO nnnnNnnn nnnnnnNNNNnnnnn.... n
mmm nnnnngh nnn ....
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" Hey! What are you spacing out over there for? Help me get this little ##@## out of here," he said.
The other person simply glanced over, "Do your own @##* job."
The first guy grumbled and muttered under his breath and dragged a tiny creature out of the cage. It was a baby. Despite that fact, he didn't bother to handle it carefully. Infact it was carried by just one arm. The rest of it was hanging limp. It didn't even realize that it was being rough handled. It's eyes were listless. Besides it's polio patient-like appearance, it was covered in scabbed wounds.
The man lifted him high and swung him and then forcefully rammed him to the ground. The baby didn't cry. It just kept staring at nothing even after getting his pelvis fractured.
" Oi, did you have to do that? Although I saw my fair share of things that happen Here, that wasn't very..."
The man didn't show any remorse. "Doesn't matter. This little monster won't die from that. In fact, we've been given orders to do this. Yer a newb in this section, right?"
"Yeah."
" Well then, kiddo, let me tell ya. Don't pity this monster. It was responsible fer a lotta m'rderrs the day it was birthed."
The guy spat. It landed on the dazed baby. " Ya heard 'bout da incident seven years ago?"
"The Yetren Calamity?"
" That's the one."
" This ##@# was the main culprit."
" This infant? How old is it? A year?"
"Are yer a retard? I said seven years ago. 'Course it's seven now."
" Seven?!"
The man did a double take.
" These guys sure did a number on it. Barely looks alive to me."
A gasp came from the child. They both turned to it. "##@!#!"
The newb walked over and pressed his steel lined boots on its frail chest.
And he hammered down. Continuously. The sickening squelches echoed along with the sound of snapping ribs.
It didn't cry. It was making an adorable face. The face was smiling.