I had dirt in my eye. I could feel it scratching. It was the least of my worries.
A secluded farmhouse. An elderly farmer, distrustful of banks, lives there alone. He keeps cash on the premises. Supposedly an easy in and out job.
I didn’t count on him having a beartrap, nor me stepping into it. The pain was excruciating and I blacked out. But worse was yet to come.
Barbed wire wraps around my limbs, pinning me to mud and shit caked floor.
The squeal of hinges, and I hear them grunting.
My blood taints the air, attracts them.