The Belt

Zenobia on June 21, 2009

Terry's chest hurt. His breath was coming in short gasps, and his heart felt as if it were attempting to make a brave escape straight through his sternum. In short, he was absolutely terrified. He never should have borrowed the money. Ending up on the street would have been better than this. He tilted his head back, immediately wishing he hadn't. The sawblade was a formidable piece of machinery, the glinting, razor-sharp edges blurred from the spinning of the thing, caked with - *Oh God…* he thought, *is that blood?* He closed his eyes quickly, not liking the thought that soon it would be -his- blood covering the floor. He felt the ropes at his feet tighten slightly. He looked down to see one of the men checking his bindings, to be sure he could not escape. “Please don't do this!” he begged, voice ragged from his earlier exertion, and from the terror that wracked his very being. But his pleas fell upon deaf ears. With a whir of machinery, he suddenly felt the conveyor belt he was tied to jerk into motion. He began his struggle anew, but it was no use. He was bound tightly, and there was no way to get off the belt. His thrashing became frantic as the squealing of the saw blade grew louder. He could feel it sending the air moving at the top of his head now, desperately convulsing as he drew closer…. closer…. closer….