Anythingdrabble Challenge 156 - Rural madness

[m_findlow]

Title: Rural madness
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Owen
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: M (language)
Notes: Written for Challenge 156 - Harvest at anythingdrabble
Summary: Owen knew he was right all along when it came to his misgivings about the countryside.

Everyone had given Owen plenty of stick for being a complete grump when it came to the great outdoors. They're were all mental as far as he was concerned. What was there out in the country that was better than living in the city? The local pubs were rubbish with their queer locals and immediate distrust of anyone who wasn't a local. They also automatically hated anyone who didn't want to drink Brains Beer because that was all they had on offer and why wasn't that good enough for the posh city folk?

There was nothing to do out here, unless you liked staring at green hills and more sheep than you could count. So what if the air was a bit cleaner? It wasn't like you could enjoy it when all you could think about was "I'm going to die of boredom out here. That's what I'll be thinking when I draw that last breath of fresh country air". The highlight of Owen's day so far had been a burger from a van that had probably gotten lost. God knew it wasn't going to sell many burgers out here.

As if that hadn't been bad enough, then Jack went and broke the news that they were spending the night camping. Seriously? What kind of sane person thought sleeping in something that could barely keep off the rain, let alone the cold, was a good idea? Not to mention he didn't fancy sharing a tent with any of them, except maybe Gwen, and what chance of that?

Of course all of that paled in comparison to what came next. Being stalked, having all their gear stolen and their campsite trashed, shot at by locals, scared half to death by creepy freaks hiding in cellars, and dragged at gunpoint by the local constabulary to where it was all happening had been bad enough. The admission that came next sealed it for him.

'This is our harvest.' There was such a maniacal, delighted glee in the way he said it that there was no way he was anything less than completely certifiable.

Only in the bloody countryside! This was what happened when you spent too much time out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do for kicks. It fucked with you brain and your sanity. One day you'd simply wake up and think "yeah, we could go around killing people, carve them up and eat them, because humans are the other red meat, and beef is expensive and a pain in the arse to go down the shops to buy. Plus, we've got shotguns and not much else to do. Why not terrorise those swanky pricks who won't drink our beer? No one will even miss them in all those millions of city slickers. What's a few less?"

People in the country were fucked up and this just proved it beyond all reasonable doubt. If he'd had his gun, he'd have shot them all just to do society a favour.