“‘There ain’t no sky today. There ain’t no sky any day ever. Ever’. The weeping ‘thing’ curled in the corner of the dirt cell, murmuring about everyday life and what can not be. The cell, that contains the ‘thing’, is being occupied due to them fighting back against the processors. Before then, the ‘thing’ was a hauler, along with the other ones. They were taken out of the tunnels due to them contracting the ‘limp and crack’. Though they are only 5, they are still up there in age so it was bound to happen.”

The bumped limb from the Cell Stalker stopped writing and put down their engraver. They thought, though only a little, what was above the No More, other than the detracted. It is just scorched and barren up there, an angry god wandering around the wasteland ever more. They were 3, but already had thoughts of what was above, though, like many their age, it was a laughable thought to wander above the No More.

A warped stump dragged behind the other two as they started dragging to the main devouring area, one of the nicer ones than the smaller ones farther down the tunnels. They slapped off the dirt from their stumps and limbs before consuming. They and three other of the ones waited at the table, biting their limbs and roaring for the meat. Then, a few clangs from the metal pipe shoved into the dirt above, a loud scraping sound, and plop there was one of the defanged and knocked out “limp and crack”-ers.

Pouncing on the body like a wave crashing into itself, they started to tear and pluck. First with removing the stumps and then tearing off the jaw and pulling out the teeth.
As it was sent awake, it started to holler about, before one of them put a stop to that and ate their brain and their eyeballs.

All that was left was the skin and bones. They all started snapping at each other about who would get what, arguing between if crunch or snap was a better mouth feel. They decided half of them would get the bones and the other half, including the Cell Stalker, would get the skin.

They started to peel and laugh at the oblong blob on their table. “So ingenious and benevolent of the Old Ones to give us the used ones rather than the new ones, we need someone to haul The Want, right?”. A gleeful spattering was held by all at the table, with bits of skin and bone flying across the consuming slab. “ Upon the Old Ones, our consumption break is almost at its end. We should tidy up”.

It was dealt with.

The cell stalker walked back and surveyed the victim, licking their lips, hoping to devour knowing, one day, the same would be happening to them. They didn’t care. They were still ravenous.