Next Stop, The Shell

[Rhoda]

I know my comrades are present; I can sense their fear, which even surpasses mine. I am by no means a hard soul, outside or in. I have not had a happy or pleasant life by any means, but nothing could have warned me of such an atrocity. Perhaps my brothers are more prepared for their fate in body and mind, but not me. While they may have been trained or specially selected for this journey and task remains a mystery, but I know I have been brought here against my will.
Darkness is an all too common shroud, and something I should now be accustomed to. Despite the fact my brothers are mere inches away from me, I feel the most isolated from them all. Not one word is spoken as our transport begins to move upwards and onwards. My insides churn and shift with the force against the transport, already unstable from my perilous journey from my home. The cheap materials holding us in cause us to rattle, though I know we’re quite safe unless the worst should happen and the transport should fall out of the sky. As rare as it is, I have seen it with my own eyes and I would not have believed it otherwise; shards of what was left of a broken man, innards clearly visible.
I suppose I should tell you about my history and how I came to be here.

I was lovingly brought into this world by my mother. She was by no means a strong or resilient woman, especially under the turmoil she had experienced at a young age. Frequently caged and abused, she found freedom with me, her child, as well as my other seven brothers and sisters. When we were drafted, I could see the tears fall down her elegant face though not one sound was heard as I was lifted gently away. My final goodbye was hasty, and my last wish before I was taken was to free my mother. The area where I grew up and settled was unpleasant, and a woman of her mental strength deserved far more than to sleep in the disgusting conditions handed to her.
Now, I sit with five of my brothers. My sisters were destroyed not long before we were herded into this cocoon of a transport; a manifestation of poorly made materials and pure terror. The cause of their death was unknown, but I have always suspected it was because they were considered weaker and paler than us. Sexism in the highest form, but I do not wish this upon them. In that respect, I am glad they are dead, as they will never experience this. Only dreams lie ahead of them.
I, my brothers, my sisters and my mother were all spoon fed deception. My mother was promised long ago that she would be given a fair home in the countryside after she was considered to be the weakest and less significant of her family. Spared the dreadful massacre that inflicted her parents, my mother fled to isolation. She may not have been the biggest, but she was certainly one of the cleverest in her community. At the hands of a kind man with essential age, wisdom and experience, she then led a pleasant life until she too was viewed as insignificant. When we were born, she was assured that we would find peace, and that a paradise was waiting for us with open arms. Immediately, each and every one of us knew it to be filthy lies. As a result, here we wait.

After what seems like days of being on the move, we are greeted with a sudden stop. Muffled talking can be heard on the other side of our four walls. Metres away, not word was distinguishable. My stomach now churns more than ever. Is the supposed paradise we were promised just within reach? As tension rises in our group, the lid of our transport is opened and a large, god-like figure stands towering above us. Gently, he then lifts our transport, ensuring not one of us should fall out and miss this splendour.
The paradise delivers what was promised. Elegantly polished surfaces that must stretch for miles lay in front of us. Magnificent machines in gallant silver greet us, each displaying a vast number of functions and lights. The influence of technology is strong, but the presence of sunlight is stronger, filling our transport and warming our souls. Vegetation provides occasional shade, greenery waving at us through the gentle breeze. Mutual cheers are heard as we are placed in fabulous living quarters with others just like us. Clean, happy and vibrant, a single tear rolls down my cheek.
Inside, more vegetation greets us and provides us with a pleasing palette of colour to the eye. As the door is sealed, lights flicker on, brighter than any sunbeam I have experienced or felt on my otherwise cold exterior. I am finally home.

Days pass and we live in perpetual bliss. We sit in relaxation, given air conditioning and refreshment when needed. The others staying with us are easy going, and it’s apparent they’ve been here for weeks longer than we have. The only thing noticeable was the disappearance of those we’d been conversing with over the past few days, but things remain calm. It wasn’t just our kind that would disappear; weird and wonderful creatures staying with us would be taken and replaced, sometimes looking far healthier. Whatever is waiting for us on the other side of that magnificent door is clearly the higher power which we await to meet.

The day comes. All 6 of us are taken and we bid our farewell. Up and out we are lifted out of what had been our home for almost one week. Whether that was a mere purgatory or whether we have yet to be judged on our fate excites and terrifies us. We are brought face to face with a towering being, human in looks and behaviour. With a smile, he sets us and our transport down on the glorious surfaces we had seen on our entrance. The buzz of excitement is finally deadened when a large bowl is slammed down beside us. One by one, I watch my brothers being hauled high and brought down harshly on the rim of the bowl, causing them to crack under the sheer pressure. They barely have enough air to scream, but they did not need to.
Finally, it is my turn to join my brothers in the bowl but I am prepared. With no resistance I try and make comfort of the large hand gently nestling me. I suppose this is tragic irony compared to my eventual and inevitable fate. As I’m lifted, I see the most sickening sight I could never imagine; my brothers, lay skinned in the bowl far below me, their innards swimming in the communal bowl of disarray. Despite the fact than the remains of my comrades are now one, I feel the most isolated out of my entire troop. I am prepared - more prepared than I ever thought an egg could ever be.

[Ziggy455]

You played me like a damn fiddle, you bastard.

 

It was written perfectly; clever, witty, and as always, somewhat funny in a f*cked up sort of way.