Not quite done- Freezer

         The place was dark.  The palpable air, smelling of sanitized meat, ice, and faintly of processed beef, filled my lungs as if to drown me.  My gasps for air joined the deadly hum of the freezer.  Then came the cold.  The torturer used the temperature against me, stabbing invisible needles in my nose, my face, my legs, my arms.  He sucked the moisture away, and whispered in my frozen ears that he would take me away, too.  He gripped my fingers in his hands and turned them blue, then purple, then black … but that was before they fell off.  Icy waves of pain rolled through me.  I grew accustomed to my own shrieks of pain as precious heat found new ways to abandon me.  Now he prods my face more; but what control I have left is thrown into keeping my dry mouth shut.  I must keep my tongue! 

Memories float past of cherry blossom petals on a lake in sunset.  A man, my brother, David, grins so wide, too wide to be authentic, I thought, until I looked down and saw the angel.  My niece, her rosy cheeks aglow in the setting sun, nutmeg hair covered in perfect pink petals, sitting in her lemon dress among the tall grass and dew.  Annie turned to look at me.  I saw her perfect face smiling up at me.

“Uncle!  Isn’t it pretty?” she asked.  I grinned and opened my mouth to answer.  The pink cherry petals flew by, carried on the wind.  My mouth moved soundlessly, and the colors faded to deep, deep black…

A new wave of chills washed over me.  Staring at the omnipotent darkness, I readied myself for the next round of agony with newfound conviction.  I must protect her.  I must protect her.  I must return home and warn David.  I can’t die here.  I must return with my life and my tongue.

I stumble forward in the darkness.  I must keep my tongue.  I can’t die yet.  My outstretched hand touches it, cold, oily, and squishy.  Don’t scream.  That would reveal my tongue, don’t scream.  I remain frozen, paralyzed with horror.  Shuddering breathes rush into my lungs, icy reminders of my captivity.  I’d felt this thing before, briefly, but I didn’t know exactly what it was.  It wasn’t alive, or, at least, no amount of screaming would wake it.  I tried to calm myself, as frozen barbs poked at my face, daring me to think.

                I gritted my teeth and slowly breathed deeply, no matter the sting.  Miniscule pins and needles stab, but they shock me awake.  I push my hand farther against the form; it gives slightly, then creaks from above.  I pull away.  It creaks.  Creak.  Pause.  Creak.  Pause.  What was it?  Panic shot through the nerves of my brain, freezing my thoughts.  My torturer whispered unintelligibly in the darkness, clutching my remaining fingers as he watches me suffer.  I had to escape.

                I pushed forward again.  The thing creaked from above, but like something I’d heard before… metal on metal?  I ran my hand across its frozen surface horizontally, about an arm length, and vertically, about a meter.  I was surprised to find no arms or protrusions of any kind.  It’s just a slab of something.  Then I tried to reach over it to find the creaking sound.  The slab seemed to be hanging from a metal hook connected to the wall by another metal piece.  Creak.  A meat slab, it was a meat slab.  Only a meat slab?  I must be imagining things.

                I felt the freezing fingernails of my captor leech the warmth from the back of my neck.  A rising flame boiled up from my gut, inflaming my chest with violent, desperate rage.  He was mocking my futile hopes of escape!  My futile hopes… They were futile weren’t they?  I would die here.  The warmth in my chest hardened and plummeted down to the pit of my stomach.  It was hopeless!  How could I tell my brother of my capture?  I needed to warn him of the torturer.  He might come for him, or my niece.  I couldn’t freeze to death!  But I would.  I would freeze.  When they found my body it would be too late for Annie, or David. 

But if I was going to freeze in here, I would take him with me!  The icy talons leeched, and I twisted around and leapt at my attacker.  In a mighty scream I jumped at him.  My head spinned, I’d hit something hard.  I went numb, all I could hope for was that my attacker went down with me.  Whoever found me would find him, too.  I sighed, relieved.  Until I felt cold needles stab my tongue.

                Two days later, a sleepy chef’s assistant opened the meat locker.  He shivered at the frozen mist escaping from the room.  He yawned.  It was just a normal Monday, and then he screamed at the body on the floor.