SLAUGHTERHOUSE - SKATEBOARDING
Автор: DEADROOTDYING
Загружено: 2026-01-18
Просмотров: 11
The meat came in perfect. No bruising. No variation. Every cut identical, down to the grain. When workers asked where it was sourced, the paperwork listed only “local.”
Then the whispers started.
Night shift claimed the meat was warm when it shouldn’t be. Not thawed—alive-warm. Pallets would shift on their own, plastic tightening as if something underneath had inhaled.
A worker slipped and split open a package.
Inside was muscle shaped like it remembered a purpose. Veins pressed flat, rearranged. And beneath the fat, just for a moment, a fingerprint bloomed purple against the surface—then faded.
Security footage went missing. So did workers.
Their timecards kept punching in.
When inspectors finally shut the plant down, they found the grinders spotless. Too spotless. No waste. No excess. Nothing ever thrown away.
In the freezer, behind rows of boxed meat, was a wall that hadn’t been there before.
Built from flesh.
Stitched tight.
Still warm.
Carved into it, over and over, as if by fingernails from the inside:
WE ARE THE PRODUCT
The plant was sealed.
But the meat was already shipped.
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