I live far from city limits, alone. As far as the eye can see lie trees, grass, and wheat fields. There is one small road, which forms the border between my property and the wheat. There are also girders. Lots of steel girders. Each of them are about twenty feet long. I don't know why they're here. They just are. Maybe there used to be a building here, and they left them behind when they destroyed the building. But I don't mind them. Well, that's only because I can't move them. They must weigh about 500 pounds a piece. Just me, my small house, and the girders. And my pig. I'm still not entirely sure why I even kept the pig. It just showed up at my doorstep one day. But I enjoy its presence. It gets lonely here sometimes.

It was only a week ago when it started. I woke up that morning to find something very odd. A few of the steel girders had been moved. About ten of them were put into a line in front of my house and went on the other side of the road, which is pretty close to my house. What I didn't understand is how anyone could have moved the damn things. Maybe some punks from the city got a forklift and moved them that way. I did see a model once that doesn't make any sound. Maybe they found it, and that's what moved them.

The day after, I found a similar sight. All across the west of my house, ten more girders were lined up, just like the others from the day before. I assumed those punks were just trying to freak me out. It didn't work. This was nothing more than some kids that like pissing off an old man. I thought nothing more about it and went back inside.

The next day, ten more girders were lined up in the back of my house. Nothing unusual. Wow, even after it happened, this surprises me. Nothing unusual. But even worse, my pig was dead in the front of the house. It hung from the awning on the porch. Its legs were all cut off and it was gutted. At the bottom of the steps, I found an even more unsettling sight. Three of his legs were formed into an "N", and his intestines made an "O". His final leg with hoof cut off, located slightly below the leg, made an exclamation point. All together, it made an ominous "NO!" I decided to sit outside that night to find the kids doing that crap.

I wish I didn't. Then I could go on with my life, ignorant of what was really going on. I stayed up that night, rifle in hand, and coffee pot on the table. My rifle could drop an elephant from a mile away. But I didn't dare fire at what I found. At around two o'clock in the morning, a dark figure came out of the forest. It took all ten girders that weren't lined up at once, and then lined them up, completing a square around my house. I was amazed. I could barely lift one of those alone. And it just lifted about two and a half tons with one arm by itself. It then swept its head around, getting a view of the wheat fields and my house. I guess it either didn't see me, or it didn't recognize my rifle as a threat, because it just darted off into the trees. I'm no expert in speed. When I had a car, I could barely ever keep the car within the speed limit. But that thing had to have been going over 100 miles an hour.

The next morning held the most horrific event that I have ever witnessed. A car came across the road from the distance. I decided that I could just make a run for it. Jump into the back seat and tell the driver to gun it. Before I even got the chance though, it pounced. Straight out from the trees, it jumped high into the air and smashed down on the ground behind the car. This is the first time I could see it clearly. I didn't like what I saw. It was hunched over, but still looked like it was about twenty feet tall. Its legs were bent. I'm not good at anatomy either, but I think those are tendons made for high jumping. If I hadn't seen it last night, I would think it was starving and emaciated. You could see all its bones through its skin. And it had six eyes. Six red eyes, lined up across the front of its face.

It took one slash at the car, and it flew into the marked-off area that is now the boundary of my house. Upon impact with the ground, the thing was over there. It tore apart the metal hull of the car with ease. Before the driver could even finish his scream, the thing brought his fist down on his head. You could see the blood splash out from the porch. The thing then proceeded to eat the body, and then dashed back into the trees.

That was when I understood. I was that thing's captive, and the girders are my cage. And I am permitted no visitors. I didn't particularly like being its canary, but at least that meant I didn't have to pay taxes any more. When the police came, the thing would just tear them apart. And I wasn't restricted at all. The only thing I couldn't do was pass the girders. But I'm getting tired of it. Even though the thing can tear my entire body into bite sized pieces in a second and use my bones as toothpicks, I think I'm going to make a run for it. I have no more purpose in life except being the beast's pet. I won't stand for it. I'm gonna run.