The Danger Lies in Chains

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Two friends decide to go into an old breeding building in an attempt to ring in some easy cash. Little do they know that "the danger lies in chains unbroken" is nothing but a myth.

Submitted: April 17, 2018

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Submitted: April 17, 2018

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 A soft, chilling wind could be heard from outside of the establishment. The inside was no different. The various holes and cracks that peeked through the walls sent wisp of winter wind through them. The air was completely still, almost as if everything in the building was dead. But they weren’t. At least, they weren’t dead yet. The place we stood in was both a prison and a laboratory. It’s only been abandoned for a couple of weeks. These holes were generated by a natural process. These were bullets, rocks, drills, hammers-these were all the people trying to take this down. It eventually, it became too difficult and dangerous to keep it up. This was a building where saber-dogs were bred.

 “This place smells disgusting,” said Rye, Jonathan’s partner in crime. Jonathan turned to him, his usually pale skin darkened to a grey under the dim lighting.

 “Well, there’s probably a lot of death and dung. Thought you grew up on a farm, no?” He sneered, lightly kicking Rye on the leg. Rye gave him a glare, then readjusted the large duffle bag that he slung on his shoulders.

 “It’s still disgusting,” he retorted. “Are you sure these things are still alive? They’re dogs, you’d expect them to be vocal.”

 “They’re dogs all right, but they’re still unnatural. Some of these guys have been beaten into submissions, doubt we’ll get a peep out of most.”

 “You better be right, Jonathan. These things are dangerous.”

 “Ah, don’t worry, the danger lies in chains,” Jonathan said with a slight smile.

 “I’d rather it lie six feet underground,” was Rye’s response.

 “Hey, we’ll make some good money off some puppies if we find ‘em. Get some pep in your step, ?” Rye cackled, swinging his head back in a hooting laugh.

 “Right,” he snorted.

 Their search for the dogs continued. After a heated argument about the many “dangers” of the established, they decided to split off. The plan was to find a mother, kill her if deemed too aggressive, then take the puppies if they were alive. They would have all the things we needed in the car, including another bitch if needed.

 Jonathan entered a room, his flashlight scoring the walls. A loud, ferocious bark echoed through the room, causing him to stumble slightly. The danger lies in chains, he reminded himself as he went forward. His focus was now put on finding this dog. As his flashlight swept across the room, he hit it. It was completely black and sheltering four healthy-looking puppies which had not been weaned. He grimaced and pulled out his pistol, preparing to shook the female right in the head. As he steadied his gun, he heard something else. A long, drawn-out snarl. He turned on his heel, confused and bewildered. As soon as he did, a loud crash could be heard, and he felt something sharp dig into his leg.

 “The danger lies in chains unbroken.” A lie muttered throughout the country.

 

496 words.

 


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