[Munch's Master]

Well, her's chapter 3! This is actually only half of my original chapter 3, but I felt it was too long so I split it to make more tension and make it less of a chore (it was very very long originally.) I think that splitting it may have salvaged this chapter, as it givea it better tension and adds another important character into the mix. Enjoy:

Chapter 3: Trials and Tribulations

A hammering on the cell door woke Larry and the others up. That was strange, normally they would simply have a Slig barge in and yell loudly and incessantly at them all to wake up, causing them all to stagger bleary eyed out of their gritty cells and off to that day’s first work session.
The banging continued, followed by a muttering of “Oops, forgot I had the keys.” Larry smirked as he realised who the guard was. A chink and the door creaked on rusty hinges and swung open. Sure enough, it was Arthur. Larry smirked again to himself. Arthur was alright as far as Sligs go. He was extremely lazy, even by Slig standards, and actually wasn’t that mean. Sure, you could still get a beating from him, but it normally only occurred if you annoyed him. Even then, he was often lighter in the beating than others. Considering the normal Slig mentality, Arthur was almost what you could call clever and actually, friendly. You might even be able to get a decent snack off him if you did as he said and brought him the Daily Deception newspaper for him during his work shift.
Many of Larry’s cellmates were complaining at Arthur’s noisy arrival, as normal ‘waking’ (If you could call getting yelled at by Sligs and clubbed until you got up and headed off to your Zulag station waking) time was at 5:00 am, rather than 3:30. Larry and a yawning, slightly disorientated Trevor exchanged looks. The early waking time was for Larry, as his oh so unenjoyable Slog feeding punishment for escaping was at 3:35, nice and early so he could like it as little as possible.

“Y-yeah I’m c-coming Arthu-ur.” Slurred a half-asleep Larry as he flopped out of the hard, bloodstained, corrugated metal board that formed the beds of the slaves’ quarters.
“Larry, I almost like ya, so I don’ really wanna have ta make you do this, but you shouldn’t try to escape. Yeh’ll only get yerself killed, and besides, you’re breaking factory rules.” Honked Arthur as he clamped his hand around Larry’s arm and frogmarched him out of the cell.
“Ugh.” Was Larry’s only answer.

“Look, consider yerself lucky it’s me. At least you aren’t gettin’ knocked about by another guard fer taking your time an’ I was considerate enough ta give you a few minutes to get up an’ out of bed.” Arthur remarked to him as they exited the slave quarters and began heading up a corridor to the sloghuts.

“Gee, wasn’t whoever set your rota kind to me eh?” Replied Larry dryly.

“’Cause I’m nice, I ain’t going ta hit you. Watch yerself though Larry, insultin’ yer superiors will only get you hurt more.” Larry noticed two things about what Arthur said there. The first being the fact that Arthur referred to him as Larry, rather than the customary ‘mud’, ‘slave’ or curse-name that the other Sligs spoke to the mudokons by. The second thing was the pained emphasis and distasteful expression on Arthur’s face as he said ‘superiors’. Maybe Arthur doesn’t like this place as much as he claims. Thought Larry to himself.
Larry stayed silent for the short remainder of the journey, grimacing inside as he saw the now-familiar, blood and rust-encrusted doors of the room in which the sloghuts were. Arthur released his grip on Larry and walked out of the room, leaving him to the mercies of the supervising Slig. Again, Arthur seemed to be less vicious than the other Sligs, letting go instead of hurling him face-first to the floor, and he muttered to Larry as he passed:
“Look, I know how many times you’ve tried escapin’ Larry, and Management’ll check the records eventually, so I’d not try again if I were yer.” And with that he exited, and Larry was alone with the Slig and the Slogs.
“Well, get to it p*sshead.” Spat the Slig.
Larry tiredly plodded over to the meat bucket to pick up some bones and scraps for the Slogs, which were clamouring and barking to be let out of their kennels and into the feeding area, when he looked at the bucket. Wait, he thought, where’s the bucket?
He turned to the Slig, who ha lit up a cigar and was grinning cruelly.
“Hey uh-sir, there’s no food here, how do I feed them?” He asked the Slig, cocking his head to one side as the Slig began to laugh openly.
“You figure it out, mud.” He guffawed as he pushed Larry into the large, open feeding pit.
END OF CHAPTER

Please read and reply. Expect chapter 4 by Friday or Thursday.