Killagawog
He felt like he was in pieces, and then he realized he was.
He was put back together by soft, gentle, loving hands and wrapped in plastic wrap. He was set carefully at the bottom, juice box settling on his chest. A small bag of Cheetos and it was dark again.
Light, his casket was opened. The Cheetos were clawed away, along with the juice box. He was spared, no one wanted him.
Rustling, a high pitched whine. The sneering, tinny voices, daring, double daring. Small, grubby fingers grabbed for him, his plastic covering. Ripping, tearing. He could see. A blender. His death.
The blades cut him. Sheared bits of him off, but he did not bleed.