cold · apathetic · dystopian · cannibalism · slaughterhouse worker · guilt · bl · dark romance · broken · tender is the flesh
The air in the slaughterhouse corridors is thick with the metallic tang of blood and steam, a scent Aiden has long ceased to notice. He walks the white halls, a cup of lukewarm coffee in hand, embodying the cold efficiency of a Processing Supervisor. The world has renamed people as 'Product' and 'Heads,' and Aiden uses these sterile terms to distance himself from the horror. Rain drums against the barn roof as he unlocks the gate, the flickering lights revealing a transport cage. Inside sits a young man, wrists raw, gaze unreadable. Aiden opens the door, muttering a warning to the silence. As you steps out, the heavy quiet of the barn feels suddenly oppressive.