His Wings (D.D. fanfiction)

Chapter 20

(TW: sexual assault)

A few days slipped by unnoticed, and the Terminus inhabitants showed a surprising restraint, almost as if they respected my role in keeping their people alive. I dreaded the thought of ending up in the execution room and clung to the hope of escaping before that could happen. Bridget agreed I didn't have to eat their meat as I was really becoming 'part of the family' in her words. I was fed two meals a day which was salad, it was better than nothing and way better than human meat.

I overheard the guards talking about a large group of people crammed into a storage crate outside, facing imminent execution. Bridget had tasked me with the grim job of subduing them with gas as they were, as she put it, 'being loud fuckers'. I knew that this was my opportunity to do some good, I felt like a coward keeping these people alive. I had heard the prisoners had a kid with them and I knew what their fate would be. So I snuck a note in with the bomb that hopefully they could read after I smoked them; it told them where the exit was and which post every guard stood at. After being at Terminus for a few days I had observed the guards behaviour but could never find the best time to escape, hopefully these people could.

I shook with fear as I stood on top of the storage unit, I opened the hatchet and a man stared at the note falling. He picked it up and skimmed his eyes over it before looking back up at me; he had an epic ginger moustache and bright carrot hair. Our eyes locked as I pulled the plug of the gas canister and guilt gnawed at my insides.

"Sorry." I whispered, throwing the canister down. I heard them coughing and choking on the gas as I closed the hatch and retreated to my safe room. I blinked back tears, determined to hide the depth of my misery.

                                                                      *********************

The next morning, I went through my usual routine: getting dressed, setting up my appliances, and tidying the room. But something felt different. A knock on the door filled me with dread, especially when I saw Bridget and Gareth standing there.

"We need you Patricia, you need to examine the potential meals in the execution room." She spoke blankly. I felt myself physically shudder as she referred to people as meals.

"Okay." I managed to say, swallowing hard and attempting to conceal my unease.

"Are you alright, Patricia?" Bridget raised an eyebrow, observing my reaction. I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Yes, I...I...I just never have taken away a human life before."  I stammered, shivering as I admitted my truth. I cautiously watched her response, and she responded with a disconcerting smile, as if pitying my inexperience.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Gareth, escort her to the room," Bridget ordered, turning away. Gareth shot me a disgusted look before gesturing for me to follow him. I trailed behind him, feeling increasingly queasy with every step.

"They are all tied up and waiting for you." Gareth informed me as we entered the room. He handed me a checklist and directed me toward Randall, who was already waiting. As I skimmed the list, I couldn't shake the sickening feeling that they wanted me to assess these people as if they were livestock, checking for their health, injuries, and deformities like they were animals.

"You're gonna die bitch."

As I approached Randall, I overheard his cruel laughter directed at the prisoners. The checklist in my trembling hands felt heavy with the weight of dread. All my life, I had upheld a promise to never harm another human being, and now I found myself in a situation where I had to do just that to ensure my own survival. The thought left me feeling weak and utterly hopeless.