Pig. It's not a barbecue: there's no molasses or onion. Instead it's an acrid smell that bites at your nose and steals the breath from your lungs.
Dirt. Hedging you in on all sides. Your shoulders, back, and feet touch it and it falls from above onto your legs. It sends cold through you. But warmth comes in through your arm, through a needle.
Voices. A woman. "Will it work?" A man. "Yes."
Faces. The faces dip in and out. You've never seen them before, and you won't again. You blink more and more and each blink lasts longer than the previous.
Blood. It wells in your mouth and spills to the left side. You swallow what you can and scream. You keep screaming until the dirt fills your open mouth.
9th place (out of 26) in the 16th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition. It was written by Jason Devlin using the pseudonym of 'Steve van Gaal'.
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Interesting theme, but the beginning is quite confusing (which, as it turns out, serves a purpose) and the later game is rather buggy.