The walk to the Extermination Sector is long, longer than my everyday trek along the corridor to the Hull, even though my cell is the one of the furthest away. Watchers whirr along above us, scanning for any illegal activities. There is no Rule breaking, though. This is routine after a Punishment. Seeing someone Punished often subsides any thought of breaking Rules for the time being at least. I wonder what happens to the Punished after: their bodies are always gone by the next day. But there is no evidence of anyone but the prisoners inside this shithole so maybe the Watchers take them. I am not sure. Just another question that will never be answered.
Most of the crying has stopped and has been replaced by numb, thick silence. There is still at least seven hours until Extermination so I imagine most of us are wondering what will occur once we reach the Extermination Sector. At least, those are the thoughts swirling around my brain. I am determined to keep my mind occupied as I always do, preventing any unwanted thoughts and stirrings. I cannot afford to come across as weak, especially on my final day of life. I'm going to die, whether I like it or not, and at least I want to go out brave, strong and with my head held high.
Eventually, a wide mouth ends the corridor and we spill out into light.
The Extermination Sector is made up of a single floor, with three corridors making (including the one I've just exited) the only ways out.
In the center of the large space is possibly the most terrifying scene I've ever witnessed and I've seen a lot of shit; remember those good old Punishments? Three metal chairs sit on a raised platform. Shackles on each hand rest and a threatening looking helmet like headpiece. The helmets are large and attached to a framework behind each sinister looking chair as if they are lowered down and up. Black and heavy, the helmets would cover anyone's head entirely. On the front is the familiar seal of the Organisation like each morning's holograph except in silver ink. If this is how we are Exterminated, it certainly does not look painless at all!
Each corridors occupants are bunching together, unwilling to address the other groups. Categories A, B, and C. As our level in the Hull is the lowest or last level we are Category C. But that's not really what it means. It means the severity of crime which got us landed here. Landed in this god-awful prison. Category A; least serious. Minor thievery perhaps or small transportation crimes. Same fate as everyone else though: Extermination. Category B; more serious. Sexual assault, criminal possession of drugs or weapons. Criminals of such crimes will face Extermination, of course. Category C; most serious offenders. Murder, rape or crimes against the Organisation are often the acts of Category C criminals. We are sentenced to Extermination, too, obviously.
I never could imagine that teenagers could commit crimes such as murder and rape until I was imprisoned myself. All of the prisoners range between the ages of ten and eighteen. Rapists, murderers, thieves; all just teenagers or below. Now, these rapists and murderers are my fellow inmates, comrades. And we're all going to die today.
Eventually, silence smothers the feeble conversations as we wait for... something. Anything. Most of the other prisoners are just staring up at the grotesque chair devices in fear and horror.
As if on cue, a holographic image appears; the Organisation's seal. The female digitalised vice followed.
"The Extermination Sector" it announces, almost jovially.
"Seven hours and seven minutes remain until Extermination. Holographic messages from inmate's families have been sent. Watch and wait till further instructions."
A staticky burst and the holograph is gone, leaving a flurry of emotion in its wake.
"Messages, from our family?" one boy shouts almost in excitement and as if he cannot believe his ears.
Seemingly stirred by his words, the grotesque stage of the three chairs sunk out of sight into the floor, accompanied by the painful shriek of metal and concrete. As we watched, intrigued by the mechanism, a second stage rose from where the sinister chair-instruments had stood before. On this stage, however, was a plain metal table. On the table were Watcher-like devices. They glided into the air like a swarm of bees and sped off towards various prisoners. Kids eagerly snatched the strange Watcher-like devices from the air and were immediately encased in holographic blueish light. From inside the circular holographic spheres, images were being projected in front of the kid.
"Holo-Messages", I muttered, recalling the devices from the outside world. A form of communication.
One such Holo-Message is speeding through the air towards me. It must be from her! But as I make the hopeful motion to lunge up into the air and receive the Holo-Message, it glides smoothly over my head and into the arms small, watery-eyed boy behind me. No Holo-Message is coming for me. A small pit of loneliness yearns to open in my stomach but I dismiss this and harden my exterior once more.
"No weakness," I whisper firmly to myself. "No weakness."
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
A huge thank you to my readers and your lovely comments on the start of 'Prisoner 0004C', your support is hugely appreciated.
-Laura-Grace xx
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Prisoner 0004C
Science Fiction/////ON HOLD\\\\\ In the dark future, a mega-corporation known only as the Organisation has seized control of the world's population. Ruling through fear, the Organisation's harsh laws and even harsher punishments have succumbed the Earths inhabita...
