danger farm

Demon Next Door CH6

5 Years had passed since that day, since my child was taken and I was forced into the underworld. Each day was like hell. I was put in the lowest ranking area of the underworld and forced into labor. Here, the demons who had no magic and the humans who were enslaved lived under harsh conditions. Since there was not much of a way to defend ourselves, we had to do whatever the stronger demons ordered. Most of the time, we were ordered to kill creatures, many of which were dangerous, and ‘farm’ in order to supply food. Farming was different in the underworld. Since the atmosphere was different than that of the atmosphere on earth, special crops were used. Many of these crops were harmful to plant since they emitted toxic gas as they grew. Most demons could handle it but a lot of the enslaved humans would grow sick or die due to this. Many also died while hunting creatures.

That wasn’t the worst part however. Almost all enslaved humans were forced into taking on service jobs where they’d be humiliated, tested on with potions and medicines not yet approved of, or taken 'advantage’ of. Thankfully for me, the demonic root Ten had transferred to me kept me from enduring too much of this. Sensing the power of the root, those that requested me would usually only perform the first 2 options. None of them dared to do the last one. That didn’t make it that much better, however.
It was painful living in the underworld.
Here I had no name or worth. I was addressed as 'Human 74’ and was made out to be an object of no value. I lived in a dingy cell with all the other humans and, as Ten’s mother had said, I was barely living.

I hated it. I wanted it to end.

5 years had passed when a change occured.

I was asleep when they called out for me.
“HEY, 74!” Upon hearing my number, I quickly got out of bed and scurried off to the source of the voice. I learned by experience that if one did not get up on the first call, there were consequences.

“You’ve been requested,” one of the guards of the cell stated and led me out of the sleeping quarters. “by an upperclass demon” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was rare for the upperclass to request for a human but I did not complain.

It was only once we got outside that I wanted to turn back. Waiting for me in front of a fancy little carriage was a familiar face. I stopped in my tracks, not wanting to go further.
“What are you doing? Go ahead now,” the guard pushed me forward. I hesitantly walked to the carraige.
“Long time no see _____,” the man ushered me inside and followed me in.

“So how have you been?” He questioned as he sat across from me. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he really did ask me that.
“Well, sir, it’s been great,” I gave him a fake smile.
“You can call me Johnny,” he sighed.
“I’m in no position to do so sir,” I replied. “Why have you requested me?”
“You’ll learn later,” he smiled. I frowned at his words but said nothing.

When we arrived at Johnny’s estate, he helped me out and led me inside.
“Alright, _____, Here’s what you are going to do,” Johnny began, “You’re going to serve a guest who’s coming over. We’ll have dinner and then he’s going to take you out,”
“Then what?” I asked
“It’s up to him. He’ll do what he wants. For now, go upstairs, shower, and change. Your clothes are laid out in the first room on the right.” I glared at Johnny but nodded
“Of Course sir,” I mumbled and headed upstairs.

Once I reached the room, I closed the door behind me. A deep sigh left my lips as I neared the clothes set out for me. There was a clean white dress and some undergarments placed carefully on the bed.
“God,” I mumbled in frustration and picked up the clothes before heading for the restroom. It was weird to actually be able to get clean for once. The cell where I resided didnt have many cleaning facilities and the guards didnt give us much time to ourselves. So, now, as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I couldnt help but to stare at my reflection. I let my raggedy clothes slide of my body and my eyes traced the scars on my body. My fingers slowly moved over the healed gashes and wounds shakily. My skin was dirty, my hair was a mess, my eyes and body were tired. If I hadnt helped Ten that first night, maybe none of this would have happened.

“_____” Johnny knocked on my door. “Are you ready,”
“Yes sir,” I responded as I smoothed out the dress before opening the room door.
“Hmmm,” Johnny tilted his head to the side. “You clean up well. Now, come” He took hold of my hand and led me down to the dining room. “My guest will be here soon so sit here at the table and wait for us” I nodded in reply and took a seat.

Several minutes later, a knock resounded and I heard a door opening. I heard voices talking but I really couldnt make out what was being said. It was only when the guest and Johnny neared the dining room that I heard the conversation.
“So I requested a special lady for you to have fun with tonight. It’s a pretty little human” Johnny chuckled.
“Oh No. I dont want that man,” My eyes widened at the sound of the voice.
“But you will” Johnny responded.
“Johnny, I’m engaged and I have a kid ,”
“Your engagement was arranged and your fiancé sleeps with her guards. Also your son is irrelevant to this situation. Come on, Ten, loosen up” The door to the dining room opened.
“I dont think-” Ten walked in and stopped in his tracks once he saw me sitting at the table. I refused to look at him.
“Surprise! She is alive and well!” Johnny exclaimed.
“What the fuck is going on,” Ten looked to Johnny and then to me. “__-___?” I let out a low sigh and glanced up at him.
“Hello sir,” I nodded.
“Your mother lied when she said ____ was dead. She’s been working in the lowest ranking district for the past 5 years,” Johnny shrugged. Ten grabbed Johnny’s collar and shoved him against the wall.
“I was told to keep it a secret but I figured enough was enough.” Johnny pushed Ten off of him. “Now have fun,” He smirked and walked out, leaving the two of us alone.
“Holy Shit,” Ten ran a hand through his hair. “____…” he slowly made his way towards me .
“Sir,” I acknowledged.
“What?……Dont call me that,” He sat down next to me cautiously. “I cant believe youre alive….”

imagine-that-fandom-life said:Could you maybe do an enoch oconnor imagine where you join the loop and you kind of feel like and outcast but really every body is purposely leaving you out so that you spend more time with him because he’s like your soulmate? Sorry if that’s crazy.

Not Crazy at all, I hope you like it!

You didn’t know how you got here, but you did know that as soon as you entered you had found someplace safe. You met Ms. Peregrine and she welcomed you to the loop with open arms, and explained the rules and circumstances you had found yourself in. 

Your peculiarity, unfortunately for you, was extremely visible for the third party viewer. It just so happened that, in the plainest possible terms, you were a patchwork. 

Of body parts that is, meaning that if you lost a limb or a body part than it would continue to survive and could be reattached. 

It first happened when you were five and while playing on your grandparent’s farm your tiny hand was torn off by playing around dangerous farm equipment. But before you could scream your little hand scuttled out from under the farm tools, hardly bloody at all and you picked it up curiously. 

Your grandmother did plenty of screaming when you ran home with your hand well…in hand. 

Ever since then it seemed your were somehow plagued by mishap and limbs popped off like doll parts, easily sewn back on and perfectly usable.

But the stitches were visible to, giving you a Frankenstein-esque appearance. Across your face and arms, around all of your fingers, nearly everywhere.

That made things difficult.

Ms. Peregrine introduced you to all the children, but a few winced at your monstrous appearance but politely greeted you. 

You were assigned your chores to do everyday and then left alone to get acquainted. 

As you passed by the children and looked at them with questioning glances, too nervous to approach them without some form of invitation, each of them glanced away from you or turned away except one. 

She was a girl about your age with bright red hair and long, black rubber gloves on both hands. 

“Hello” she smiled at you and you smiled back for the first time. “I’m Olive”

“Y/N” You said and shook her hand, finding them hot to the touch even through the rubber gloves. 

“I’ve so glad you’ve come! Not a lot happened around here.” she confessed. 

You looked around with a nod. “I’m glad to find a friendly face, no one else really seemed to want to talk to me…then again if I saw me I wouldn’t talk to be either.” 

“Don’t worry about them.” she waved her hand, “they’re just waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to meet Enoch, I think you’ll like him” She told you and offered you her hand. “Come on”

You took her hand hesitantly, unaware of the stitching coming loose on your forearm and she gleefully began to pull you along until she felt your weight instantly disappear behind her. 

You groaned and she turned wide eyed to find your detached forearm still clutching her hand. 

“Oh my!” she panicked moment and dropped the hand and you winced and sighed. 

“Sorry” you picked up your arm and eyed it, “that happens sometimes.” 

“Well…Don’t worry, Enoch can fix it.” Olive shook off the event and motioned for you to follow her into the house and up the stairs to a gloomy looking room. 

on the floor before a large work table sat a young man in overalls who worked with careful eyes on a grotesque doll like thing. 


“Hm?” he grunted distractedly.

“We have a new girl!This is Y/N, and uh…” she looked down at your decapitated arm. “she kinda needs a little help.”

He glanced over at you, looked away, then doubled back with slightly wider eyes. “Oh”

You waved sheepishly. “Hi”

“Hi” He sat the doll down and stood with a sigh. “Problem?”

You raised your hand and waved it slightly. “a little bit, I understand you’re the man for that.” 

“You’d be right. Have a seat.” He moved to a shelf and pulled out a sewing needle and fumbled for some black thread. 

“I’ll just leave you two alone.” Olive grinned a little and slipped out as you sat down.  

“So, you’re peculiar?”

“clearly.” He muttered and sat before you and took your stump of an arm in hand. “Interesting.” 


“I’ve never seen something this…this…”


“Fantastic,” he eyed you critically, two dark glaring eyes scolding you for even thinking something negative about this situation. “There’s nothing ugly about this, you’re a wonder. Do you mind if I try something?”

“I uh…sure?” you shrugged, now extremely curious as Enoch took the needle and stuck one of your fingers with it, making you squeal. 

“Amazing.” He smirked a little and began to sterilize the needle. 

“If you don’t mind uh…what’s you peculiarity?” you asked and he glanced over his shoulder at you before getting a malicious twinkle in his eye. 

“Watch”  he took one of the dolls and a jar of hearts from the shelf and carefully inserted the organ into the doll and then did the same with an other. 

You watched in amazement as the dolls slowly sprang to life and began to battle each other like gladiators until one of them was dead and both collapsed. 

“Holy Crap!” you laughed. “That was amazing!”

“You should have seen the fights we had in my parents’ funeral home” He smiled a little and took the now sterile needle and thread. “Will uh…” He paused and eyed you. “This won’t hurt you will it?”

“Not much, I’m used to it by now” you shrugged and held out your stump so he could tightly stitch the arm back on. 

He was surprisingly good at it to, better than you were expecting. The stitches were small, tight, and even. 

“Thank you” you told him as he finished and cut off the spare thread. “You and Olive seem to be the only ones who aren’t afraid of me.” 

He glanced at you questioningly. “Why should they be afraid?”

“Well… look at me. I’m a rag doll for Christ’s sake. I’m a movie monster, I belong in a mad scientist’s lab.” You laughed as you said it but it was hollow and false. 

Enoch frowned and looked at the clock. “No you don’t.” He grunted and stood. “You belong here, and in about three minutes we all belong at the supper table, so come on.” 

He offered you his hand and you took it and pulled yourself up, “you can sit with me and Olive if you like.”

anonymous asked:

We've got a set up in the middle of our store at the moment which includes a tractor. The entire thing is sort of blocked off because we don't want people going near the ladder and trailer and tractor and shit. But we keep finding children on top of the tractor, turning the wheel and making a racket because it's old and unoiled. We almost never find a parent looking after them either, they usually fuck off and leave the kid on dangerous farming equipment for us to deal with. Good parents.

I’d be asking a lot of parents to kindly leave the store.



The drug business is big, and not the BLI-controlled drugs. Zone weed growing can be pretty dangerous. From hiding the farms in the city, to the smugglers who take it out to the zones, and to all of the rivaling drug lords. 

To get on topic, the drug lords often don’t get along, but they have too high of a status to go after rivals and their sellers who don’t cough up their profits. 

Instead of getting their hands dirty, they call for a decent handful of rebels who kill for a handsome living. Assassins? No, that’s old slang. These ‘joys call themselves Reapers. 

It’s hard to find them since the business is severely shunned. It’s even harder to find a reaper who can do the job well. But when you see a reaper, you’ll know. They’re skittish, dark, and have short tempers. And there’s an unwritten rule that you keep your distance and avoid conversation unless they’re up for it.

Jump Street Sequels and Tag Lines
  • 23 Jump Street: Medical School —“Turn Your Head and Cough”
  • 24 Jump Street: Foreign Exchange Student —“A Steaming Load of Bolshevik“
  • 25 Jump Street: A Semester At Sea—“Ship Happens”
  • 26 Jump Street: Art School
  • 27 Jump Street: Culinary School—“Let’s Stew This”
  • 28 Jump Street: Veterinary School —”Farmed and Dangerous”
  • 29 Jump Street: Sunday School —“Holy Sh*t”
  • 30 Jump Street: Flight Academy —“Putting the Cop Back in Copilot”
  • 31 Jump Street: Ninja Academy
  • 32 Jump Street: Fireman School —”Bros Before Hose”
  • Jump Street Generations
  • 34 Jump Street: Return of the Ghost
  • 35 Jump Street: Traffic School —“Double Parking, Double Narcing”
  • 36 Jump Street: Military School —“Putting their Privates on the Line”
  • 37 Jump Street: Scuba Class —“Bros Before Cousteaus”
  • 38 Jump Street: Dance Academy —“Pointe & Shoot”
  • 39 Jump Street: The Electronic Target Game
  • 40 Jump Street: Retirement Home —“Old School”
  • 41 Jump Street: Magic School
  • 42 Jump Street: Beauty School —“Dye Hard”
  • 43 Jump Street: Mariachi School —“¡Esto se esta. Poniendo Ridiculo!”
  • 2121 Jump Street
  • ∞ Jump Street

Elizabeth Weiss on the history of advertiser-produced television and Chipotle’s new series, “Farmed and Dangerous”: http://nyr.kr/1f6StJq

“There’s something disturbing about a corporation hijacking our attention with twenty-two minutes of entertainment specifically engineered to make us want to buy something.”

anonymous asked:

I don't get vegans and vegetarians. I mean the food is delish, but instead of directly harming an animal we are now indirectly harming them by taking their food & habitat away(see palm oil) & harming the earth by dangerous farming methods.