Rohan cursed to himself as he saw the figure that glowed back at him from the cash register display. He handed over the last of his money and with a pang of melancholy took his groceries. On the notice board next to the exit, he saw an advert, “Casual Work – Cash in Hand – Must like Rabbits. If interested, please take (address on rear)!” He took the paper and scrunched it into his pocket.
Checking the address a final time, he trusted his car navigation got it right. He turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. He rang the bell of the farmhouse and waited, looking around at the miles of emptiness in all directions. “Ah, come on in,” said the old man in a strained voice, he beckoned Rohan into his house, holding his back, obviously in some sort of pain, he continued, “Follow me.”
Rohan stood in the middle of the room, he stared at the wall of cages, and hundreds of hungry eyes looked back at him. “So, do I just feed them?” he asked. “Something like that,” the man said, as Rohan heard the door behind him click shut and the sound of sixty cages swing open.
The old man smiled in content when he heard a bloody scream erupting from the room down below.
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