The pig
Quick dark little story for Hallowe'en.
Don't think it'll break through the writer's block, but it's something.
The pig had no name. No identity. No individuality. It just was. It worked, or it was punished. It ate, or it was punished. It did not talk. It did not squeal. It did not resist.
The pig had nothing to look forward to. No hope of freedom. No rest, until evening meal and bed. The only brief change to the monotony of breaking rocks, or building walls, or harvesting crops was the few days, spaced far apart, when his restraints were finally considered "too small" and were replaced for larger ones.
On those days, the pig felt relief. He was forced to stand straight, arms out and legs spread. If his head tried to move, his nose ring would quickly remind him not to. His muzzle was removed and replaced. He knew not to complain, not to make noise. His masters were talking about him. He knew not to listen, not that he truly understood.
The pig grew stronger, grew larger, then stopped growing. He no longer needed new restraints. The ones that had worn his skin tough were not replaced as they began to fray. He became worried.
Older pigs were not around anymore. He was nearly the largest, nearly the oldest. The females had been removed as soon as they started their bleeding. The males were kept for harder work, but occasionally were removed.
One morning, the pig was awoken by a leash tied to his nose ring. He followed, without question or resisting. He trembled.
The pig's teeth were removed. The pig was sent to a new holding area. His feed was changed, no longer coarse and rotten tubers. Now it was an oat slush. The pig was not sent to work. He was forced to walk about to keep healthy, but no labor. The pig grew fat.
One morning, the pig was taken to a new holding area, with other fat pigs and other fat animals like him. They were scared. He was scared.
He was taken inside a large building and his restraints were removed. He was cleaned, and scrubbed, until raw. His nose ring was polished. Then he was led to a stone table. He was strapped down. A man above him held a large, thin spike above his face. The pig squealed as the spike pierced behind his eye and pushed though the thin bone into his brain.
The pig no longer thought. The pig no longer moved.
After being hydrated and fed via an I.V. for 3 days, the pig was cleaned and carried to another table.
The pig squealed as his arms were amputated close to the shoulder. The pig blacked out before his legs were removed.
The pig, now without his nose ring, was taken to another table. He was laid on a cold metal disk. His eyes followed the sounds he heard to a person standing by the table, not that he understood what was being said. Not that he understood what "saying" meant.
The pig was grasped in large, scaled hands. The pig squealed as his hip was shattered by powerful jaws, his manhood, his muscle and his bones being cleaved off his remaining body. A guttural rumbling of enjoyment spread up his spine, not that he understood it.
The squealing continued until the pig's ribs and diaphragm were taken in another bite.
The pig was fatty, juicy. The entrails were clean. The pig's head was left, as well as a hefty tip.