Miss Ashley Pants

He had surveyed the immediate surroundings, but was cornered on all sides by padded pink walls.

Now, he stood stoically as Creature secured him with one claw alone – rendering him completely immobile. She paused pensively for a moment, looked up at the Human (who had trafficked him here with the others), and smacked her chops. This moment seemed an eternity – as if she were dangling the cruel false hope, like a cat does a mouse, that Treat might actually escape this nightmare with his peanut butter coating intact. But Treat knew better. He had seen, on occasion, what truly transpired through the other side of the the zip locked bag and watched what became of his new friends.

Treat had heard their guttural screams as Creature took great joy in making their suffering last.

Each had been brought here against their will. Rumor had it that Human would actually capture these atrocities on film, and upload the documented deaths to a community of equally insatiable psychopaths who would dance on their very graves by enhancing the gruesome photos with aesthetic effects.

Could this really be a snuff ring?

Sometimes at night, he would try to remember his new friends’ names and faces – to counteract the sounds of their moribund cries that still resonated deep in his psyche long after they were gone. This ritual had previously brought him some comfort. However, as he now stood facing the very same grim reality that had once befallen them, his mind went blank. He wasn’t sure if the stillness that overcame him was one of bravery or merely paralytic fear.

Yet, he tried to accept his destiny: he was defenseless, delicious, and… devoured before he could even recall the name the friend who, he’d just witnessed suffer the same fate earlier that morning. But as Creature’s molars tore into Treat, and as he began to pass out of consciousness, he first heard the synthetic sound of a camera phone shutter.