Ficlets

Harvested

I’m waking up.

Drowsy.

Intense pain.

Freezing cold – bath of ice.

Red. Blood. My blood.

Why?

Mind reeling, searching for clues.

Discovery. Opening. Abdomen. Surgical precision.

Realization. Organs. Gone.

Urban legend – now very real.

Too real.

Fatal.

View this story's 1 comments.