It had been so well barricaded that it took us a few minutes to get through the door. The inside was was dark throughout as they’d cut the power from the inside so even though we’d had the power company hook them up again, we were forced to use torches and uncover the horrors piece by piece.
We entered through a small utility room that took us through to the staff rest room. That’s where we found the enamel mugs. A great big pile of old and chipped mugs, the metal showing in patches all over.
I thought little of it at the time, figured they’d been forced to stop washing-up and started to pile everything up. Even when I looked closely at one, though, and saw a name scratched onto the bottom, I didn’t think much of it. Just shrugged and thought they were a bit possessive of the company’s mugs.
Guess that was a part of the reason they were protesting, I suppose, to try and gain back a little something to call their own.
Anyway, that’s irrelevant and I apologise.
We carried on through to the packing area and found it completely empty of people. Of its goods, though, it was teeming. Every machine had finished... < products >... placed all the way along; and they were stacked up at either end too, and along the walls.
There were no... < raw parts >..., nothing in a semi fashioned state. Not even boxes of... < raw parts >... or ... < raw parts >....
It was very strange and unnerving. I think because it was all so deliberate. We expected to find an abandoned plant, not a modern art piece from before.
I think the fact that there were no raw parts surprised me the most. They had clearly not stopped work during the strike. Which was just weird in a creepy way.
Anyway, sorry, what they did has clearly affected me too much.
I led my team on toward the warehouse, where all these things should have been boxed up and ready to ship.
It was there that we found what remained of them. On every shelf in every bay their remains lay, eaten from the inside out. Just the bones, albeit collapsed and eaten at, bubbled. No one recognisable at all.
We believe that they each drank this new poison from the mug bearing their name, and then added it to the pile before walking through to the warehouse and taking their place in on a shelf, turning the whole place into a tomb.
Later found we their ID cards shredded and burned. For whatever reason, those mugs were meant to be their epitaph.
Officer Jones is now recuperating at the new luxury holiday home meant for the workers he found.
The mugs and the bones have been removed, everything has been cleaned and made new.
Production will never stop again.
Do not think that we are weak and can be fooled anew.
We know the source of this poison and have stopped it.
We will stop every further attempt at insurrection.
Just as we did the nepenthe. Just as we have this new poison.
You harm only yourselves when you struggle.
We Give You Life. Do not take it away.
We entered through a small utility room that took us through to the staff rest room. That’s where we found the enamel mugs. A great big pile of old and chipped mugs, the metal showing in patches all over.
I thought little of it at the time, figured they’d been forced to stop washing-up and started to pile everything up. Even when I looked closely at one, though, and saw a name scratched onto the bottom, I didn’t think much of it. Just shrugged and thought they were a bit possessive of the company’s mugs.
Guess that was a part of the reason they were protesting, I suppose, to try and gain back a little something to call their own.
Anyway, that’s irrelevant and I apologise.
We carried on through to the packing area and found it completely empty of people. Of its goods, though, it was teeming. Every machine had finished... < products >... placed all the way along; and they were stacked up at either end too, and along the walls.
There were no... < raw parts >..., nothing in a semi fashioned state. Not even boxes of... < raw parts >... or ... < raw parts >....
It was very strange and unnerving. I think because it was all so deliberate. We expected to find an abandoned plant, not a modern art piece from before.
I think the fact that there were no raw parts surprised me the most. They had clearly not stopped work during the strike. Which was just weird in a creepy way.
Anyway, sorry, what they did has clearly affected me too much.
I led my team on toward the warehouse, where all these things should have been boxed up and ready to ship.
It was there that we found what remained of them. On every shelf in every bay their remains lay, eaten from the inside out. Just the bones, albeit collapsed and eaten at, bubbled. No one recognisable at all.
We believe that they each drank this new poison from the mug bearing their name, and then added it to the pile before walking through to the warehouse and taking their place in on a shelf, turning the whole place into a tomb.
Later found we their ID cards shredded and burned. For whatever reason, those mugs were meant to be their epitaph.
Officer Jones is now recuperating at the new luxury holiday home meant for the workers he found.
The mugs and the bones have been removed, everything has been cleaned and made new.
Production will never stop again.
Do not think that we are weak and can be fooled anew.
We know the source of this poison and have stopped it.
We will stop every further attempt at insurrection.
Just as we did the nepenthe. Just as we have this new poison.
You harm only yourselves when you struggle.
We Give You Life. Do not take it away.
Written for the Light and Shade Challenge from the following picture prompt:
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