be elsewhere

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short story of 600 words about a person captured by cannibals, they enduring seeing the other captives feasted on, feelings, perserverance and escape. even guilt.

Submitted: July 30, 2017

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Submitted: July 30, 2017



Be Elsewhere


I stood frozen to the spot, parting the tall grass slowly, which revealed the terrifying presence of a village of cannibals. Driven by this nightmarish vision, my legs propelled me away from the spot, but I was too noisy and they were too close and quick. The cannibals chased me into a patch of open ground, where they easily cornered and trapped me.

I was quickly caught and tied, upside down, to a pole, upon which the cannibals carried me back to their village. This is what a wild boar feels, my mind managed to conjure. Must be because it did not do what I wanted - devise escape, as instead devising what my dreadful fate might be like.

As we passed from the open ground into the tall grass; the sharp blades made gashes in my skin, and I had to close my eyes for the most part, lest the sharp grass slice them too. As they bore me roughly back to their village, the cannibals spoke to each other, laughing at times, in a tongue my mind failed to discern. 

As we reached their village, the inhabitants gawked at me. The younger ones watched me with seeming disinterest. Older villagers though, the experienced, who knew what was to come, smiled and some licked their tongues in anticipation.

My captors threw me inside a wooden cage, along with other prisoners of the tribe, no doubt intended to be part of their next feast. Later, I saw them remove the remains of previous victims, reduced to skulls still bearing cooked flesh, but whose expressions were all too human. Their last.

With this ghastly vision, my very soul was gripped with blinding fear. Was this to be my end – dinner for a tribe of primitives? My captors held a festival, which I knew celebrated their belief that, by eating the flesh of their enemies, they would absorb their essence, their intelligence, their very souls. Self - pity enshrouded me.

The festival continued for days and one by one, my fellow captors were dragged, screaming, out to be feasted on.

The emotions of us dwindling captives. The air so heavy you can feel each other’s without having it told you. Some clutch to their deity, others fatalistic acceptance.

Every night they fed us, fattening us for the kill. Yet still, my instinct for self preservation shrieked within me - Could I escape? It inspired a plan that I kept to myself.

Eventually, I was the last in the cage – all my fellow captives were gone, consumed as grisly meals by the cannibals. Fed with my last supper that night, I used my plan. Hyenas would pass by the cage, stealing scraps of food. I rubbed some food on the bonds of my cage, which attracted one of the beasts. As he chewed on my food - covered bonds, he eventually bit through them. With the cannibal villagers’ sound asleep, out of my cage I went, into the night, to the safety of my tribe and to warn them of the nearby horror that could well consume all in my village.

There was something in me, was not simply the sheer abominations my eyes laid bare too. Selfishness - how many could I have saved were I not so…Courage to share my escape plan with the others was a nonexistent commodity.


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