Story Title: Batch 36
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Batch 36 had been sentenced to death last night.
They would all be shot dead by the end of the day. They belonged to the farming section. Leader Galup had been unimpressed by their handling of the work yesterday. He killed for such flimsy reasons. Whole sections died because he was just in a bad mood. This section belonged to farming. They were not allowed to have sex, they were not allowed to have fun except the leader said so. So many had grown in captivity dreaming of another life in the posters sometimes given to them by the leader , of other countries where they would be free and stand anywhere they liked, wearing nice clothes, like the people in the posters. But usually their short lives they lived hard and ended here.
When Batch 36 had been ordered dead, either by killing themselves or waiting for the mass killing by the soldiers at the end of the day, Arera had thought of how he would never go to the place in the poster. He thought of his friends in the sex and entertainment slave section. Yes, they were slaves too, but they were licensed to have more fun than other slaves, wearing show clothing , acting flashy like they were real celebrities and not slaves. They got to have sex at least, the ruling people got to choose from a variety of male and female sex slaves from them. There were many times the rulers would be unsatisfied and a beautiful or handsome body would be flung into the mud in its fine clothes but, in the morning the slave workers would cry and sing together and console each other and bury their loss, if they were allowed. Sometimes a pretty lass would be picked from amongst them and luckily live all her life in the Ruby City in fine clothes, and come back to greet her family when her gracious owner allowed it.
The rest had laughed and told him to relax for the oncoming death. After all factions always died like this, they had the day to laugh amongst themselves for the last time. But he couldn’t just quell the terror within him of being shot and dying . He ran out while the others smiled at him ruefully.
He ran across the sections not caring if the soldiers would see and kill him on the spot. He passed the entertainment slaves, posing on a big flashy car, in their section full of stages and lights, looking as fine as the real deal, only that they were in reality, slaves that acted out whatever script the leader gave them. He ran into a poster room. It was rather dark. He knew the others were getting killed by now and he would soon be missed by the angry soldiers. But he’d rather find a friend , from the lighter sex or entertainment section and get them to put the bullet in his head. They always acted cheerful.