Sanctuary of Broken Souls
The whole Simpsons family of five was in the car, and Homer was driving. It was on a dark summer's night on a highway somewhere in the United States, really far away from civilization. All that could be seen when looking out the windows was a desert, the road they were driving on, and nothing else.
So why were they in this situation? For the record, they had started a trip to an amusement park called "Fun Funny Fun Fun". But when they reached their destination, in state far away from their hometown Springfield, they were surprised to find nothing but rubble. A man nearby told them that the whole park area had been demolished beyond repair by a hurricane.
They were disappointed to hear this, especially since it now seemed like the whole trip was just for nothing.
So now they were going back all the long way home. Homer sat in the driver's seat muttering.
"Mumble, mumble, how stupid…"
It was clear that he didn't want to talk about the subject ever again. And no one bothered him about it. Everyone was silent as they were driving home.
However, as they drove along, they noticed that something didn't feel entirely right. Even Bart noticed this, and he had been busy playing video games during most of the journey. Lisa spoke up:
"Dad, do you know where you where we're going? I don't recognize the landscape."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, as a starter, when we drove from home, the steppes weren't this desolate. There was vegetation such as cacti, but on this road, there isn't a single blade of grass. There aren't even any mountains nearby as I saw before. Also it took less than 8 hours to drive to the remains of the park, not as long as we have now driven away from there. Are we lost?"
And then abruptly, Homer slammed on the brakes.
"You're accusing me of being lost? Fine! I admit it! I am lost! We're all lost together! I don't know why, but we are!
"Hey, hey, calm down! We're not totally lost. Don't worry. Don't you see that light up ahead?" Bart said, pointing at something in the distance.
Bart pointed out a light about fifty meters in front of them. It was a faint light, but it was a light made of humans, and it came from an eatery not a long distance away.
"Oh, how convenient. I happened to stop right before a first-class eatery. Mmmm, eating" Homer said drooling.
They all exited the car, walked up the short path to the eatery. Up close, they saw that it was not a first-class place (only Homer had thought that), not even a mediocre place, but it looked rather more like a ramshackle shed. They entered it.
They were now inside, but, to put it politely, what they saw was not a beautiful sight. It was different from what they first imagined when they first saw the place outside. It was an almost decrepit place with dim lightning and no music. Rickety architecture and furniture with simple round tables and chairs and curtains for the windows, which looked like they could never get properly closed after years of non-use (the curtains). Except for the entrance, there was only one other doorway, that which led to the kitchen. Cobwebs, dust and dirt littered everywhere where there was place for it. Also inhabiting the place besides were insects and rats. (You couldn't see them but you knew they were in the place).
And the people in this joint weren't much better. They all looked like broken human beings. In the eyes of you and me they would have looked like bums, because they had ragged clothes. Both men and women were in here, and they all looked like they had travelled very far and very often. Some of them smoked and drank alcohol, and some did both.
Everyone with good eyes looked at the visitors who had just entered the place. The Simpsons felt uncomfortable, because they felt like outsiders.
They sat down at the only empty table around. Through the kitchen came someone who was obviously the chef, since he was dressed in white clothes, apron and a tall hat. He was a mildly fat man with a twirly moustache and a big grin.
"Ah, costumers. Would you like to order something from menu?"
He handed the menu for them to read and they ordered their meals: meat for three, potatoes for one and porridge for one.
"Excellent. I'll make all that for you, and it won't take long. And say what, if you are lucky, we might serve a big meat surprise. If it happens, you are all invited to taste it."
"But I'm a vegetarian" Lisa spoke up.
"Oh. I'm sorry, but I don't have a substitute for the meat. Oh well. Try to have fun anyway."
The chef went back to the kitchen. An awkward silence was now over the room, just when as the family had first entered place. A few minutes passed until someone, that being Homer, broke the silence.
"Um… You don't happen to know where we are, do you?"
He spoke to a man by the nearest table. Said man had a brown fur coat, a brown leather hat and long lank hair and beard.
"Why would I say that to you, mister?"
"Um… Because it's the nice thing to do, and you should always try to be nice."
The man then produced a loud, mocking laugh. He then grinned and continued to talk.
"'Always', yeah right. Why are you out here anyway?"
"We were on our way back from the 'Fun Funny Fun Fun' park."
Now the man wasn't grinning anymore. All the while this happened, the other guests were listening.
"Did you know where the park was built?"
Homer shook his head.
"No, of course you don't. And do you recognize any of us?"
Homer shook his head again.
"Of course you don't, no one ever does. Many of us in here built that park. And that park was built on ground where Indians used to live. Not that I'm an Indian, but still."
"So you don't know where we are?"
"Oh, I know, but I'd prefer not to tell you. But let me tell you why I…"
He was interrupted by the chef coming in with their meals. Then they all started gobbling up their food. A few minutes later they were finished, and Maggie and Homer burped.
"I'm sorry, you were saying something?"
The man from before spoke up again.
"…Us people in here are special people. We are special because nobody cares about us. What's common about us is that none of us have any money. We have all been badly treated by the government just because we're not like them. Not all of us were born poor. Some of us here had steady jobs before becoming poor. We have grown hatred against the higher classes. This is the only place in the world where we broken human beings can gather without anyone going down on us."
"And your point is?
"We really hate people like you, who are richer than us."
Some other people nodded or said something like "aye" or "yeah".
"Maybe we should leave now" Lisa said nervously.
Homer slammed his fist on the table.
"No! I was promised a meat surprise, and by God, I will stay for the meat surprise!" He then called to the kitchen to the chef. "There will be meat surprise, right?"
"Oh yes! There will be one in less than five minutes!"
"See? You got nothing to worry about."
Then marge spoke up, and then Bart talked after her.
"I have to agree with Lisa. I don't like it here."
"Me neither. You're the only one here not worrying, Homer."
"Oh c'mon! I don't see Maggie complaining."
"Baaad plaaace!"
Homer gasped after hearing Maggie talking.
"Did you hear that? Maggie's fourth and fifth words! Can you say something else, Maggie?"
Instead Maggie cried.
And for good reason.
She then quickly grew hair on her hand. Homer noticed this, and gasped again.
"Maggie, you're a werewolf."
But then the others in the family also changed, growing brown fur all over their bodies.
"What's happening?"
"This is what happens to all bad outsiders who enter this place. It's actually easy to explain. We give them food spiced with magic ingredients, the food turns them into tasty animals, and we eat the animals."
"YOU GUYS ARE ****ING EVIL!" Bart cried out.
(Normally Marge would have washed his mouth with soap for something like that, but considering the situation…
He took a step towards the exit, but it was quickly locked by one of the other men, who then slowly pulled a gun from his jacket. This one was old and bald, with yellow teeth in his grin who spat when he talked.
"I'm perfectly willing to pull it."
Now the Simpsons started to grow claws, muzzles, and started to make animal noises.
The man, who had spoken to them before, rubbed his hands and spoke again.
"Tonight we eat like royals!" He pointed at the baby. "Don't you worry, little child, you will not be eaten. We will raise you like you the good beast you are."
Suddenly the chef came out from the kitchen, holding a cleaver high in his right hand.
"Ah, fresh meat!"
The End