The waiting was the worst part. As she slumped against the wall of her prison, she hoped her time would come soon. She knew what her future held; all the occupants did.
It was only a matter of time.
She heard the muffled sounds of a conversation nearby. A deal was evidently struck, because footsteps soon approached her cell.
When the door opened, all six occupants huddled slightly closer to the walls, as if that would make them invisible. She sneaked a look at her captor.
He was different; younger, fewer lines on his face, a smiley mouth. But the rest of his features resembled her original tormentor, the one who had put her in here. A relative probably.
He made his selection. Grabbing her roughly, he started to pull her out. She let him. As soon as she crossed the threshold however, an animistic survival instinct rose up within her.
She would not go without a fight at least! She started to struggle with whatever energy she had left. Obviously she had no chance against a big strong man like him, but she struggled anyway.
He was taken by surprise, not expecting a fight. His grasp slipped and he let her go. The minute she pulled free of him she took off at a panicked run.
Quickly she realised that she had no idea where she was going, but she ran anyway, fear driving her on.
He was clumsy; he slipped as he started to follow, letting out a shout as he fell. The gap between them widened. She darted around a corner and there it was - an open door.
She had no idea where it led to, but she ran towards it anyways. For just a brief moment, a spark of hope awoke in her.
The doorway turned dark as the aproned man stepped through. His hands were strong and sure as he grabbed her and she knew there would be no more escape.
She looked up into his face, at those beady, angry eyes and that rough, tangled beard surrounding a frowning mouth. But she was not the target of his anger.
Effortlessly, he carried her over to a large container. The knife appeared like magic. In one swift stroke he slit her throat and threw her inside.
As she lay there bleeding out, she heard the newcomer berating his son.
'Dammit, Billy! How many times have I told you to be careful while opening the chicken cages?'
'I'm sorry, dad! I'll be more careful next time!'
A snort, followed by footsteps fading away.
'Pardon my son, ma'am, he had a bit of trouble back there. I'll have your order ready in just a moment.'