Alien Pet (mxmxm)

.2

BENNETT

       The days and weeks that followed seemed to blend into an indistinct continuum of nothingness, with my sole marker of time being the menacing visits of the Bantys or the infrequent replenishing of the cylindrical containers of goop, which had become the sole source of sustenance in my wretched existence in this cage. Captivity had stripped away a lot of my dignity, and the passage of time became something I could only guess at, dependent on the erratic visits from the merciless Bantys.

Initially, I had been able to endure roughly a day and a half before surrendering to the relentless demands of nature. The call for assistance when I needed to relieve myself fell on deaf ears. And I didn't hold out much hope for understanding from the Bantys; it was clear they had little concern for my well-being. Their presence was only marked by the clatter of their cattle prods against the bars of the cages and the jarring sounds they made when speaking, often followed by bouts of torment inflicted on both me and the other captives nearby.

After hours of torturous squirming and futile attempts to control my bodily functions, I had reached a humiliating compromise: I would use the bucket stashed away in the corner of my cage. Urinating in a bucket may have been degrading, but I quickly learned that the alternative was far worse. There was a chilling sense of helplessness in knowing that my life had been reduced to such an undignified state.

The question of whether the Bantys would ever empty the bucket became yet another source of torment. When I dared to ask, the response was swift and brutal—a solid prod with their cruel weapons against my side, an act of physical aggression to silence me and punish me for my impertinence. The shocks, brief but excruciating, left me in agony for hours, and the impact was such that I had little to no control over my bodily functions. Each time they employed the electric prods, I seemed to lose the battle with my bladder.

So, I found myself caught between two degrading options, covered in filth either way. The ability to understand those around me remained elusive, and I was left in a state of perpetual confusion, unaware of the reasons for my confinement and what the Bantys sought to extract from me. The only skill I had honed was the ability to keep silent, the most effective way to avoid the Bantys' sadistic abuse. It was about the only defense I had anymore.

However, maintaining silence was not always sufficient to protect me. Even if I sat in my cage, locked in a space barely large enough for me to squat or shift around, the Bantys would occasionally jab me with their cruel sticks for their own amusement. These ruthless actions were aimed at watching me jerk and twitch along the floor of my cage, a grim reminder that just being here would be met with pain. The once-familiar sound of my own screams in response had become a distant noise, I barely heard anymore.

Time, or at least what could pass for time in that dimly lit, seemingly never-ending nightmare, held no clear distinction between day and night. The room was illuminated by an artificial light source that cast an eerie, permanent glow, its origin a mystery in the vast, warehouse-like chamber filled with cages. The unceasing, unnatural illumination threatened to unravel my sanity, causing me to question the very boundaries of reality. It was driving me insane, slowly but surely.

Unbeknownst to me, I had begun muttering incoherently to myself, lost in a world of my own creation. Hours upon hours would slip away as I stared, unfocused, at the floor just beyond my cage. Only the sudden awareness of my own behavior would snap me out of those fugue-like states, but even that was becoming rare.

But I was not the only one affected by my captivity. The chamber, a cacophony of dissonant sounds, was a testament to the suffering of those imprisoned within. Screeches, moans, and a myriad of other disturbing noises filled the room at all hours. The Bantys would occasionally descend, wielding their menacing prods, and silence would reign for a brief interlude. Yet, something would inevitably trigger a chain reaction of terror, shattering the eerie stillness.