Mr. Granger's Genocide
The end was very, very near. He could hear the whirling, grinding death as it approached, tearing down hundreds of thousands of his brothers. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Why was this happening?
Mr. Granger had raised them from birth, fed and cared for them… And now…
The blades of his destruction were nearing. Their motors screaming, chains whipping the blades to action, rotary slaughter-machines tearing their way through his friends and family. He could hear their screams, dry and broken, as their tall bodies were ripped apart.
But he knew the ultimate, horrible truth… As the gas-fueled, explosive force of the machine approached him he realised that behind it all was a sickening thump, thump, thump, a constant metronome of horrifying, tragic reality.
He’s collecting our heads!
The last thing he heard in life was Mr. Granger’s sadistic laugh as the last remaining members of his family were slaughtered. And then, it was his turn, as the wicked machine ripped him apart…