What Lies Beneath

         "Bloodhound, we're short staffed. I hate to do this to you, but we need you on short notice."
         "What!? You're messing, right? I just got up!"
         "It's not something we can afford. I promise I'll work something out for you next week, but everyone else is on vacation. You really, really need to fill this in. And remember to thoroughly inspect the damn place. All of it."
         "Ugh... I just want to stay home."
I wasn't in a position to argue. My boss gets all chummy with me because of my keen sense of smell, it's pretty useful in this field. But I'm a notorious slacker, too. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to keep my job if I ignored him now.
I jangled through my keyring to find the one that fit in my car. It was a Saturday morning unlike my usual, I originally intended to wake up early to brew some tea and to stare out of my window. I loved humid weather when it was cold, the sound of raindrops soothed me. Especially the mist, it was so enchanting. Time seemed to slow down, as if only if you looked in the right places and in the right times, magic was real. It was the perfect time to escape from all sorts of human interaction and worries that came with the unforgiving passage of time, or rather, the fleeting and slippery weekend. It was just a nice bit of wonder to me, a little sparkle in what was my uninspired life.
         That was the preferred outcome, rather than making a trek into the middle of nowhere to monitor some newbie at this God forsaken job. Back then, I started smoking only recently. I wasn't getting any younger, and I definitely wasn't getting any prettier. The edge it took off was too good to pass up, even if I was always a stickler when it came to health. I knew I was gonna need 'em, because I was just in one of those moods where I decided my day was gonna suck no matter what. The air was foggy and chilled, my glasses constantly fogged up. I looked up to the sky, and couldn't see the sun through the thick mist and clouds. It was cold enough to make me shiver. A crisp 40 degrees, and the sun hadn't yet come up fully. I stared out at the fog, and even without hindsight, I felt the mist bothered me today, which was unusual. I felt like I entered a place I wasn't supposed to be, like this fog was something that previously only existed as a concept through my window. It was like I entered a painting or a book. As much as I loved this weather, I had to admit it was better appreciated from afar, in the cozy confines of my apartment.
I plopped down into the driver's seat, and wiped my face with my hands, letting out a pained exhale. Turning on the engine felt like the nail in my own coffin, a sort of realization that this was about to be a horrible start to my weekend: a 5 hour drive to the annals of North Dakota.
Lethargic as all hell after the drive, mist still billowed into the countryside, the rain a gentle trickle when I parked outside the factory. As I got out of my car, I got a good look at the factory. The building was an eyesore. A stout, bleak concrete slab that extruded from the ground. It didn't follow a clean pattern, as it looked like it was added onto many times over the years, with random right angles and slopes pasted on. It was small, and only had one tiny garage for trucks to funnel in the meat.
Outside I could see a man well dressed in black with combed, shortish-medium hair. Immediately I could see that he was a determined and earnest soul by how diligently he stood, like he thought he was in the army. He couldn't have been that much younger than me, probably early twenties. He was tall and slender, and was clean shaven and had a little bit of a baby face. This job didn't require a uniform except for the subtle vest, but I didn't expect him to have something so dressy on. He even had on a satchel, which I assumed could only hold an adorably dorky collection of unnecessary writing utensils and whatnot. His shoulders were sharp and defined, and he inspected himself in a pocket mirror. In real time I could notice his reaction to seeing me, and he turned and approached me so suddenly and bubbly I was reminded of my dog when I returned home after work. His smile could be seen all the way over from the side of the road, his dimples could be seen about halfway from my walk there too.
         "Ah! You must be Courtney Freeweather, I take it? It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my name is Jack Woodry!"
His goofy smile and outstretched hand rubbed me the wrong way. His head was tilted to the side ever so slightly, it reminded me of a portrait that wasn't leveled. I wasn't so sure about babysitting this dork. I thought to myself: 'Are you an idiot? Stop smiling.'
         "Yeah. You take me for some celebrity, kid?"
I stomped out my cigarette. I rubbed my eyes again, pushing up my glasses and letting out a particular quiet groan as I ignored his gesture.
         "Not at all! Celebrities hog all the fame, what's really important isn't what you see at a glance, ma'am! I hear your sense of smell is keen, like some superpower! That's why I can already tell you're something special, I take it you're a lady of real expertise, not showboating."
That one got me, I snorted and leaned forward a bit covering my mouth with my hand in a bit of a snicker. I couldn't tell if he was just a habitual flatterer or he truly did have low standards for people. I guess my nose was weird, though.
         "You're a wordy kinda guy, I see."
         "Apologies, I'm just so ready for this day! I'm looking forward to learning all I can with you, ma'am! My father once owned this factory in his younger years, and I feel like it's about time I went in a direction close to my old man."
He looked at me like a little kid meeting Santa Claus. I really had no choice but to soften up a little bit.
         "Sorry if I get a bit grumpy, today was supposed to be my day off. Meat inspection isn't exactly exciting, but I'll go over most of the basics so you can feel comfortable on your own. I'm not a fan of long introductions. Let's get this over with so we can both go home, yeah?"
I smiled a bit disingenuously. I guess he can't be all bad, and there's no use starting beef on the first day you meet someone. He seemed fun enough, and I secretly hoped he could carry this inspection with his energy alone, it would certainly be more interesting that way. I took the first steps into the facility.
         We entered the building. The innocent warmth of Jack's introduction faded quickly, the scent of meat was something I could never get used to, but this wasn't just the smell of raw meat, though. It was that and more. It was horrible, iron, mucus, ammonia and what I could have sworn was seafoam. I was also immediately convinced there may be a gas leak, too. I had no idea so many awful smells could coalesce into one distinct amalgamation, but I now know it to be possible. I glanced at Jack to see his expression to assume I wasn't losing my mind, and I saw him unbothered by the smell. Maybe his nose was dull?
The factory spared no room, immediately it became apparent that this building should not exist. I expected the norm of clean white sterile suits and well lit conditions. The lights were on, but they were dim sickeningly yellow fluorescents, and the walls were a soulless gray concrete. Mist billowed in from outside, which still hadn't cleared up from this morning, and it made it impossible to see the walls. I have no idea how so much mist could accumulate inside. Rust caked the belts, and veered in directions that were not in right angles, sometimes connecting or splitting off at seemingly pointless intervals. The building only had one story, meat funneled in from various underground alcoves from what I could only assume to be a storage basement. The smell of the raw meat and the cacophony of smells from earlier swirled in with the noises of the nearly defunct machinery, whirring and creaking echoed through the unholy block of concrete. In all my years, I have never truly sympathized with the animals until this moment. It was like a sickeningly cynical afterlife for them, some rusty concrete hell.
         The workers shambled about like they haven't slept in days. Some of them only stood still, staring at the slabs of meat that whirred down. No worker had on protective gear, nor even uniform. No worker actually touched the meat, either. They wore as they pleased. T-shirts, beer stained wife beaters, those shirts of a popular brand that you've likely had buried in your dresser for years.
I was already uneasy, but it was their strange behaviors that did it for me. They look like they barely showered, and scratched their faces and arms like meth heads, some of them with large rashes or scabs. I stared at one worker chewing on his own arm, and he never met my gaze. They stared at the meat with jaws loose, entranced by the motions of the conveyor belts. I decided to confront the nearest employee.
         "Excuse me, sir? Is a manager on duty?" My voice pierced the unoccupied and mostly silent room, it was louder than I expected. The man turned to me. He was hairy and overweight, and much taller than me. He turned to me in a single smooth motion. He smacked his lips and breathed heavily as he stared at me with wide eyes. He looked at me as though he wanted to eat me, or that he was terrified that I was going to. I still can't decide which. I'm no stranger to holding my ground at an advance of intimidation, but this time it was nothing like that. I froze as I looked into his eyes. The entire facility seemed to slow in their actions, and most of them reared their heads towards me, their glazed eyes fixated on me like some ambush. I was scared. It felt like a surreal nightmare.
Suddenly, I heard a peculiarly soft voice echo through the facility.
         "Oh, perfect timing. Jack!" The entire facility slowly scattered their collective gazes back to the belts, and I sighed in relief. A man walked past me to embrace Jack. If Jack hadn't told me that his dad used to own this facility, I would never piece together that this guy was a relative of some kind. He looked totally different. He was shorter and scruffier, and was in a proper uniform, unlike Jack, who seemed like he walked into the wrong job. He gave off very different energy to Jack, he seemed much more grounded, soft spoken and chilled. He had soft brown and tan clothes on, and scratched his head often.
         "Remy, a long time indeed." Jack shook the man's hand.
         "Truly. I'd pay to see the look on pop's face if he could see you in that inspector garb."
Remy nudged Jack's shoulder a little.
         "You know I'm a man of my word. I told you I'd come back, Remy."
Jack snapped back in a playful tone, still with that smile on his face. Remy patted him on the shoulder, Remy's own smile fading at that last comment. He finally turned to me.
         "Well, let's get this whole show over with. Should be a breeze."
Without so much as asking my name, he quickly walked towards the back. It was this moment that I knew something was terribly off about this place. Could he not see what I was seeing? Was the fog obstructing my vision? How could any sane person ignore their employees when they were... doing whatever this was? I turned to Jack, and his expression was that of a relaxed neutral.
         "Jack. You said your father worked here? What the hell is going on? I feel like I'm losing my mind."
         "It may look strange, but my father's methods are safe, Courtney. I've seen it in action. For 2 consecutive decades, this plant held the lowest consumer reports of dissatisfaction in the entire country. Amazing, isn't it?"
My suspension of disbelief kicked in just then. Whatever I was about to step into, it would be unconventional malpractice at best. I slowly turned forward once again. Had it not been to keep my job, I never would have taken the first couple steps into the next room.
As I walked with Jack, I finally noticed the quality of the meat. The strands and fibers of the meat were thick, and bulged slightly from the expected anatomy. It looked fairly normal, in fact it looked too high quality. I've never heard of such a GMO being used on meat to such efficiency, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to learn. Not all the pieces of meat I recognized, however. I've been in this field for about 5 years now, and these shapes and sizes were all new to me. Some of them looked more like plaster than meat, but from what I could tell by the scent, it was just pork. A piece of meat slid off of one of the belts, and a panicked worker broke the silence with a loud "NO!" He quickly scrambled to get the meat back on the conveyor belt, the entire facility was now looking at him.
We walked into a secluded room, what I assumed to be a break room. Remy closed the rusty door behind us, and gestured that we come into this hallway. He still didn't look at me, and was on his phone.
         "By law, you know I have to notify you of the basement. Did you even bring a clipboard or something?"
I wasn't in the mood to be polite with Remy. His soft complexion made it easier to snap at him.
         "I have a working memory, actually. And a greater understanding of quality standards than you. If you'd believe me, you already failed miserably."
I sneered at him. I not only was going to make sure this factory never ran another minute, and planned legal action as well. I didn't care about the low consumer complaint ratings, this horrible place was the worst I've ever seen, and I felt horrible for whatever the workers were being put through. Were they drugged? Was it the work of some virus? Is it actually some form of magic? I didn't have it off the table.
Remy seemed to ignore me, hiding his face by looking forward down the stairs. We made our way to the basement, where the confusing structure of the inner workings of this place began to confuse me. I didn't want to ask Remy for a damn thing, but my curiosity got the best of me.
         "So, what use is it having the meat stored down here? Sounds like a hassle to bring it all down in this area."
Remy still didn't look at me as he replied dryly.
         "Saves on refrigeration costs because it's easier to cool down here. We can leave the carcasses or other parts down here overnight if we need to, it never exceeds 40 degrees in the winter months."
We reached a threshold, and the cold air finally hit me. The mist creeped in once again, with it those rusty conveyor belts came into view. Meat much like the shapes and sizes of before ran along it consistently. I could only see about a meter in front of me. Remy stretched, and continued.
         "Go ahead and inspect to your heart's content, it's just down from here. Shouldn't be that much farther."
His voice petered out in indifference, and casually strolled back up the stairs pretending to check his phone. I whipped my head back to him.
         "Wait, seriously? Is this cavern even safe?"
He already left. I was stuck. I was almost not brave enough to venture forward, but I felt at least a little better that I was with Jack. He remained largely silent. The smells from earlier were gone, and it was just the faint scent of raw meat and musty air. The dark, concrete halls were rough, and were just wide enough for the rusty conveyor belt and myself. The gentle conveyor belt noises would occasionally pop, and the humidity from the fog accumulated on the ceiling, dripping echoing alongside the buzz of the belts.
We weren't spared from the workers. They'd funnel through infrequently. Sometimes a line of them would squeeze through the tight halls as one, like blood coursing through an artery. Much like an artery, I wasn't sure whether or not the halls went straight or at right angles, it seemed to veer ever so slightly in directions nearly imperceptible if you weren't specifically paying attention. The worker's hands swayed in front of them, and they never looked at me directly. Their faces hung, like a loose tablecloth or bedsheet. I always hugged the wall positioned sideways when they passed, afraid of finding out if they'd have the consciousness to avoid bumping into me, or worse, what would happen if they did bump into me. A clearing allowed me to catch my breath for a while. But Jack suddenly spoke.
         "Courtney."
His voice sent chills down my spine.
         "Yes, Jack?"
         "Would you like to see the secrets of my pop's facility?"
My blood ran cold.
         "...
         I'm interested."
I never believed in the supernatural. I wasn't a religious person, nor did I ever believe in ghosts, karma, or even aliens. I knew I was in for at least something like that.
         "Follow me. These halls lie."
Jack felt along the rough walls, tracing it with one hand. He pressed against a brick, and it slid inwards. A small section of the wall at a right angle shifted, and revealed a torchlit staircase. Jack slipped into it, but not before gesturing me to follow with a finger and a mischievous grin carved along his face. I felt at the time that I would regret not witnessing these practices firsthand, as it would eat at me for the rest of my life if I didn't at least attempt to witness whatever supernatural practice lay past that hidden room. He added.
         "What would your boss think if he found that you ignored a crucial part of the facility?"
He snickered playfully as he descended down the stairs. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't hyping this up for me, as a tinge of excitement made its way into my movements as I followed. He continued.
         "Even I don't know everything about this place. You have a look at some of the fun stuff, I'll go ahead and meet up with you later."
         "Wh-what? No, you need to explain what's going on here!"
"Don't worry about a thing! Just keep your wits about you, and you'll be fine.
And... one more thing."
He had my full attention.
         "Remy can't be trusted. I'm sure you can see that."
He darted back up the stairs and around the corner, presumably to another hidden section of the facility. I was alone in this hallway now, and suddenly I actually missed Jack's presence. He clearly had a screw loose, but I felt a smidge of reassurance given his positivity and experience with... whatever the hell was going on. My trust in Remy faltered even more, like he must have been some evil manipulator of some kind. Jack told me he didn't know everything about the facility, and now I was ready to get to the bottom of this mystery with him. I wasn't ready for it at the time, but when I reached the end of the staircase, I was greeted by a room with a low ceiling illuminated by dim firelight. There were stands with about a dozen robes hung, and thousands of candles lit in rows of pure wax that were on 3 sides of the walls. One single wall was lined entirely as a bookshelf, of which there must have been around one hundred books. An empty lectern was stationed not far from them. There were some pedestals, which held finely sculpted statuettes. I could only assume they were cast, they were intricate and surreal. I cannot describe entirely what they were trying to represent, as I found it difficult to decipher where the creatures started and where they ended. One resembled a pig that was turned inside out, its face and snout was stretched across its flat profile view, almost making it seem fish-like in shape. It did not have hooves, and instead an intricately detailed mesh of tendrils that surrounded the top half. Most of the statuettes were completely beyond my capabilities to describe, but I distinctly remember a chicken-like creature that I found equally amusing as it was unsettling, with a thick giraffe-like neck that supported a layered growth of thick tentacles on the bottom that outstretched in a pyramid shape.
The floor of the room was patterned with intentional divots lined with a red pigment, almost like channels for a fluid. In the middle of the room was a crudely cut stone table, with a stonecut tub beneath it. The table had remains of horrid smelling viscera and mucus lining it, and the tub was remarkably "clean," although I could tell a stench still radiated off of it. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the bottom was a funnel, and it likely drained into some reservoir.
The dread began to sink in. My imagination ran wild, it was horrifyingly obvious what this room likely was. At best, this room sacrificed animal carcasses to some terrible idols, and at worst this room sacrificed people to some terrible idols. I wanted to know what the books were, and the significance of the idols. Remy for sure is running some cult, but to what...?
I heard voices coming from the staircase. Jack must have shut the door behind me when he left the first time, as I could hear the scraping of the concrete open preceding a sudden couple yelps and groans. I panicked, and ducked behind the pedestal of one of the statuettes, my smaller body should have been enough to stay hidden. Factory workers funneled in. They were dragging another by his shirt, I distinctly recognized him as the one that dropped the meat back on the first floor. My eyes grew wide and I covered my mouth as I saw them approach the table.
The worker screamed and kicked, his vocal cords did not sound like a human. It sounded like a human that had their voice box melted into a similar shape, like casted metal that was smooth, but malformed. Sanitized and benign. They dragged him onto the table, and two of the others held him down as another reached upwards. I didn't notice it before, but hanging from the ceiling was a meat hook on a reel. He pulled it down, and held it in front of the new sacrifice. He squirmed and groaned, kicking another and trying to claw into the face of the other, before the one with the hook spiked him in his lower spine, his movements in his legs quickly faded as he coughed and clawed at their faces with what little strength he had left. The hook retracted, and held him upside down atop the table.
As the man squirmed, the other 3 donned the robes from the stands. Two of them stood on opposite sides of him, and one approached the bookshelf, grabbing a gold lined book. He placed it onto the lectern, and choked on his own saliva before reading something aloud. The tongue they spoke in was incomprehensible, sharp pauses and unnaturally smooth consonants spewed from his mouth in what sounded like reversed speech. His voice was similar to the sacrifices, like some cast mockery of a human.
The two standing on opposite ends each donned a jagged knife. I closed my eyes, as I did not want to expose my position by making any noise. All I remember was a slit, the voice stopped, and the haunting sound of a downpour that fell into a small trickle. My nose was a curse some days, with the disctinct smell of iron making it feel like I was being forced to watch.
The ritual was not done, however, and I neglected the red lined divots on the floor. The blood seeped into them, and I winced as it almost graced my shoe. I could swear for a moment it glowed, and suddenly, the man at the lectern stopped talking. I looked up in curiosity.
The man on the hook... began to melt. His head disconnected from the rest of the body like sludge, his pale complexion from the lack of blood revealed the dull innards of his head, consisting of organs I did not recognize. It hit the stone, and not long after, his neck and shoulders, torso, and bowels. The horrid noise it made as it splatted and squelched upon the stone table is something I will never forget. My constitution was lost and I vomited on the ground. I gasped and panted as I refused to look up at the liquefied corpse. Luckily, the other 3 men had left, and I was free to collect myself for a brief many moments after witnessing a human being become liquid. Never in my life had I wanted to go home more than I did now. I was beyond scared. I felt as though Hell wasn't a place far into the bowels of the earth, but existed merely a few missteps from where I was now. The horrors set in, and I came to the depressing conclusion that I may never make it out of here. No doubt Remy has something planned for me, or else he would have never let me step foot in here. My thoughts emptied, and all I wanted to know was why. Against all better judgment, I reared my head from the stone pedestal to make sure they were gone. I stood with my mouth agape at what was once a living man, reduced to nothing but sludge being funneled into some keep.
I shambled to the lectern, averting my gaze from the image of the remains of the man on my left. I peered into the gold lined book, and surprisingly, it did indeed have English words. It was likely partially translated, as the chaotic scribbles that took up the majority of the page must have been some ancient tongue. The page read at the top "Gu'Thal's Siphon." I flipped backwards a few pages, and I kept seeing its name. "Gu'Thal." This was the idol. Some terrible god that no doubt Remy and Jack's father must have stumbled across.
Completely possessed by hopelessness, I chose to descend deeper. I meandered out of the room after ensuring no workers could notice me on the outside. I figured if I walked casually downward they might give me a chance to go by unbothered, as they had been. Strangely, I did not hear any workers on the other side of the wall like I had been. I pushed in another cleverly hidden concrete brick, and peeked my head out of the room. No sign of anyone. I walked deeper. The winding concrete halls were empty, yet the meat on the conveyor belts still ran. I walked for what felt like hours, but must have been only a few minutes. The halls winded more and more, until they proved to be far more erratic than they ever have been, like an awful slide that led deep, deep down into whatever the hell awaited me. I nearly hit my head, the halls didn't have good traction and I slipped, planting my cheek against a rusty door. I took a deep breath. I felt like I was being called.
I braced for anything, I wanted to close my eyes, but they remained open. I opened the door, and peered inwards. It was a room much taller than the others, the door led to a rusty metal balcony similar to one might find on apartment buildings, with a staircase that ramped downwards onto the floor. Only this floor wasn't concrete. I knew it as soon as I entered. This was Gu'Thal. It was all flesh. Stringy, veiny flesh that covered the bottom of the room like a sheet. I could hear its blood rushing, and its organs working. Blue veins bulged out from the surface of it, and it convulsed slightly. I suppressed the urge to vomit again, but my stomach didn't have anything left. In the center, the pit funneled like a cone to form a hole rimmed with large, human-like teeth. Amidst the mist and darkness, the veins glowed both blue and red. It allowed me to see, but this was the only room I wished was entirely pitch black. The smell was horrible, as I cannot even begin to describe it. It shared a likeness to eggs and rotting meat. I saw two figures standing out of reach of the slope of the cone-mouth. One had those robes I witnessed earlier, and I needed nobody to tell me that that had to be Remy. Standing next to him... was Jack! They both stared at the pit, standing next to each other side by side. I was far away enough, but I descended downwards to hear what they were saying.
         "And that's how you plan to follow through with this? Feeding them factory workers?"
I stared wide-eyed at Jack. He was confronting Remy about the sacrifices!
         "It will only be for a while longer, Jack. You aren't going to interfere."
         "Why else would I have come here? Do you really think I cared so much about a measly meat-inspection job? I think you're not in a position to carry on with this."
         "I have to feed them, Jack! Pops didn't exactly leave us with much of a choice... You know that."
Jack chuckled, and took a step forward to Remy. His head tilted to the side and Remy took a step back. For the first time, Jack's voice changed. His innocent tone was lost, and suddenly, Jack's presence as a bastion of possible righteousness melted away.
         "Of course you have to. There's nothing wrong with holding Gu'Thal off, but you and I know well that what it truly craves is Woodry flesh. That's why father was a failure. Gu'Thal craves the blood of its masters."
Jack whipped out a gun from his satchel. Remy's hands flew up. His eyes were wide, and he swallowed. I covered my own mouth, not daring to breathe.
         "You're kidding me... Jack, you wouldn't..."
Jack's left hand made a half shrug.
         "It's the last step, you know. I know you planned to take Gu'Thal's blessing for yourself by using me. Inheriting the factory from father had you on a high horse, didn't it, Remy...? Surely, you thought you'd won our little game?"
Remy stared at the floor, not making eye contact with Jack.
         "... I planned to use a child of mine, Jack..."
Remy's face was blank. Jack laughed.
         "You're such an idiot, Remy. You should have known I wouldn't have let you anyway."
Jack walked forward slowly, and kicked Remy over, he yelped as tumbled down the decline, struggling as he barely caught himself on the precipice of the pit. He scrambled to hold onto the pit's teeth as it dug into his hands. Remy breathed heavily, and was silent for a couple seconds. He laughed softly.
         "I've always hated you, you fucking freak. Pops wanted you dead, too."
Jack kicked Remy's fingers, and he fell into the fleshy pit. His blood curdling screams got louder and higher pitched as he fell deeper. Quick breaths being taken in between in his panic and agony, I could hear his lungs rupture as whatever horrible fate finally snuffed out his voice.
I was halfway back up the stairs, I was sweating profusely despite the cold. The facility rumbled and shook, that thing definitely reacted to Remy's sacrifice. It threw off my balance, I twisted my ankle and hit my head on the rusty guard rail. I quickly grabbed it, ignoring the pain, I held onto it and limped up towards the door. Different pipes jutted into the basement, and cracked open, draining septic waste and the pale sludge from the unholy rituals. I was only a meter from the door.
         "Let's not be so hasty, Courtney."
I froze. I whipped my head down towards the horrid flesh pit. Jack pointed the gun at me.
         "You're not going anywhere."
My heart stopped.
         "Wh... why me? I don't want any part in your fucking cult, just let me go and I won't ever interfere with your damn ritual! I won't say a word about it to anyone!"
         "I'm sorry, Courtney. You are currently the only alibi of Gu'Thal's existence. I can't exactly let you leave while I ascend. Gu'Thal must exist for one more Woodry generation, which I have secured. I know you'll speak of them, and ruin my plans to see what lies beyond the stars. I can't allow my transformation to be thwarted by humans."
He said 'humans' with scorn, as if he had made up his mind that he no longer was one. I believed it, too.
         "You're fucking insane. Put the gun down, now!"
         "It's a shame, I considered you industrious, Courtney. You should be thanking me for an opportunity to become one of us. Do you even want to know what lies beyond your flesh? Just take a step down, and we can do it together."
His voice was as fake as I now knew the rest of him was.
         "I want to keep my flesh, freak. You-..."
I was stuck. His grip on the gun was still, calculated and sparing no movement. I wouldn't dare test his psychopath steadiness. I wasn't getting out of this without some excuse. It was all too much at once, I couldn't possibly think of anything...
The pipes!
I could smell it!
         "...
         You can't shoot me, Jack. There's a gas leak down at your level. If you shoot, you'll be fried before you can even complete your little ritual, and neither of us will get what we want."
He tilted his head to the side, and smiled wider, trying to call my bluff.
         "Is that so? I don't smell anything..."
I grinned anxiously, feigning confidence to the best of my ability. For the first time, I saw his smile lessen. Before I even said anything else, he realized the situation I put him in. I sealed the deal.
         "You trust your weak nose over mine? Fine then. Take the shot and find out."
I had to double down, I had to trust my nose. I slowly reached into my pockets, and my heart rate increased as I pulled out a cigarette and my lighter. I feel like I could smell the gas leak a good couple feet below me at this elevation, I had no choice but to bet my life on it. My shaky hands lifted up the cigarette to my mouth...
         "Courtney... don't you dare..."
I flicked on the lighter.
A smile much like Jack's spread across my face as I lifted the light up to my cigarette, inhaling and puffing a single time, taking a shaky step forward and holding it out above the balcony. I had him now. He couldn't fire the gun, and if he moved to apprehend me I could sear him by dropping the cigarette. He had no choice but to let me leave, or at least give me a huge head start. He chuckled.
         "Well played, Courtney. You certainly are full of surprises. I suppose my hands are tied."
The pit grew impatient, I could only assume it grew hungrier. The meat of the creature surrounding the bottom corner of the room convulsed violently. It shrieked in what I can only describe as a mix of a gurgling pig, elephant, and tiger. The facility shook, and the floor grew unstable. I clung to the guard rail, the entire basement shifted a good 25 degrees. The tendrils suddenly surrounded Jack, and pulled him down into the flesh, which undoubtedly led to whatever fate was at the bottom of the pit. The ceiling began to collapse, and I made a break for the door. Jack gasped loudly for air as the tendrils dug into his flesh. His head tilted upward, as if looking to God.
         "Is...
         Is this rapture?"
It was the first time Jack sounded human. He sounded so unsure, and in so much pain. I decided to do one more thing before I left. With all my might, I tossed the cigarette into the unholy thing's mouth. The gas lit, and its shrieks shattered my eardrums as the unspeakable mass erupted in a thick blanket of flames.
I sprinted as fast as I could. I ignored the pain in my ankle and head, no pain or suffering could be worse than dying in a place like this, or being fed to that thing. I heard the workers from above, they moaned and gasped like dying beasts. Adrenaline pumped through my heart, I could hear it even amidst the creaking building, moaning workers and the shrieking pit. I ran through the winding concrete halls, up the stairs and to the ground level room. The conveyor belts stopped and the meat squirmed and twitched, melting into the belts. The workers held their ears and faces, writhing along the floor as the curse caused their bodies to melt as well. They bled into each other, and expelled all matter of fluid as their bodies lost shape. I dared not step on the piles, I weaved through them. One worker outstretched a hand to me, his jaw having just fallen off. I only glanced at him with wide eyes as I gagged, I sprinted out to the parking lot, jumped into my car and hit the gas. I didn't know where to go, I just drove. I couldn't think, I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry. I didn't care if I got pulled over, I was beyond fearing something so trivial.
I kept my foot on the gas. The mist was still there, but everything was finally silent, save for the ringing in my ears. The rain was still gentle, the smell of it was all there was. I saw other cars drive by completely unbothered. They likely were just coming home from work, as if everything I witnessed truly only existed in a single basement in a meat factory in North Dakota. It took a good 3 hours of driving until I could form a coherent thought.
         "...
         I just want to go home."