text: Alarms. Screaming. Gunfire. Before you have time to wake up you are pulled out of the tent into the chaotic morning, Government trucks surrounding the encampment. *They found us* Your mother pulls at your arm sprinting with pure, primal fear. Heart pounding, bullets flying, there is only one searing thought. *Get Out* You turn a corner. Officers ahead. No escape. Their bulky weapons stare at your chest. You look around, you’re surrounded. They escort you to the center, where the others are being held. “Facedown on the ground, hands above your heads” The Officers patrol through the crowd, inspecting each person. The moments drag with each gun hanging over your back. Someone tries to flee. They don’t even make it off the ground. ***Ratatata*** Instantly suppressed. The silence grows. One of them finally reaches you. Time comes to halt. You’re sure they didn’t spend as long on the others. “The Child,” the guard barks, “take it.” Dread drips from your throat into your chest. A hand grabs your neck and pulls you up. Your mother screams. “Please! Not my child! Anybody but my child! Take me! Take--” “Inhuman scum” A kick hammers down. You catch a glimpse of red as the Officer holding you begins to pull you toward a truck. “Funny isn’t it?” he says ***Ratatata*** “The inhuman believed it deserved something” Tears well below your eyes as the firm leather glove digs into your jaw. You know any slight movement could decide your fate. “What do we do with the rest of them?” “Take their miserable lives” The sound of Gunfire rattles your skull as you are thrown into the truck. You stare out at the ruins for perhaps the last time, before the door slams shut and darkness covers your eyes. You fall into an unnatural sleep as slowly and as noticeably as drifting off at night. Your dreams are pure in thought, nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to hear. There is only a single sensation: Digging. It feels as though your very soul is ripped apart and examined thoroughly. Time passes immeasurably as your feverish thoughts fill your very essence. Light. Reality. Your eyes are filled with a small white room, void of any defining details. You look down. You seem to be strapped to some sort of metal chair, Your arms and legs are bound with medical-seeming straps. You feel small felt pads on your head. You dare not to struggle, in fear of revealing how truly helpless you are. Suddenly, the straps release. You move your arms in disbelief. *Freedom, But How? Why?* “You’re welcome, by the way” You spin around to see a small squat woman, poking electrical tools into an access port on the machine. You stare at her blankly. “You don’t talk much, do you?” She continues her work. A small pile of tools lays beside her, some that you even recognise. Wire cutters, a soldering iron, even a small wrench sits at the edge of the pile. “Aha! Finally! Exactly what I needed.” She pulls out a small plastic box that has some wires hanging out. It’s labeled neatly with a small piece of tape reading “53722A” “Come on, Follow me” With nowhere else to go, You comply. You walk down endless hallways, lined with indistinguishable doors apart from a small number similar to the one on the box. As the white corridors blend together, you feel something in your pocket. You stop. You pull out the small faded photograph, one you have kept with you since before you can remember. As you stare down at it, your sister stares back at you with a familiar smile. She was taken by the government when you were young. She might be in this very building. “What are you doing? I said follow me!” You look up. Several yards ahead stands the woman you were following. You had forgotten all about her. You begin to walk, photo still in hand. “What’s that?” You show her. “Your... Friend? ...Sister?” You nod. “Huh” She turns back around and continues walking. You remember to follow her this time. As you continue past glistening doors and humming fluorescent lights, minutes begin to feel like hours. *Where are we going?* Suddenly, the woman quickly turns and barges open a door. She pulls a strange gun from her hip you hadn’t noticed before, its strange colors and curves a far cry from the sleek black terrors you’ve seen in the ruins *Pop! Pop!* You peer into the room to see a large computer screen and two small terminals. Two men lie on the floor with bright darts protruding from their backs. “Come on, we don’t have long until they wake up” You enter the room, and the woman quickly rushes to the closer terminal and begins to type. She pulls out the box from earlier and inserts it into the machine. You see hundreds of numbers and faces scroll down the screen, their broken expressions staring into nothingness. *Maybe she’s here* You have to try. You approach the woman, photo in hand. “Yeah, we’re leaving soon, don’t worry” You show her the photo. She takes a quick glance and goes back to work. “Yeah, you showed me before” The woman taps away. You point at the card. You point at the screen. She looks down at it again, but ponders it this time. “Oh! She’s here, isn’t she?” You nod. “Hey, Maybe with the photo we can cross reference and find her? What do you think of that” You nod again. “Man, you really don’t talk do you? Cat got your tongue?” You stare back at her. The woman sighs, takes the photo and inserts it into the machine. Instantly, the computer returns a single entry. It’s her. “72448H. That’s not too far from here, follow me” You follow her out of the room and back down the never-ending hallways. Eons of maddening perfect white pass before you finally reach your destination “Here it is! 72448H” You open the door. There she is, strapped to a similar machine as you were. You quickly rush over and begin to undo them manually. “Stop! You need to release her the correct way, otherwise you could cause some serious brain damage” You back off. The woman pulls out her tools and gets to work. In minutes the bindings are released, and her eyes flutter open. She looks around confused. You begin to think about how many hours, days, months, years she has spent away from reality. She tries to stand up, but instantly falls over, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Careful, the ones that have been in for a long time usually don’t adjust well to reality again, She’ll probably be fine in a day or two” You help the woman carry her out of the room and down the hall. She begins to come to and mumble incomprehensibly. Soon, she’s walking on her own feet, only with you and the woman to keep her going straight. *This is what she has been turned into?* A tear slides down your face and drips onto the floor. You can’t handle seeing her like this. “Don’t worry, like I said, it’s a temporary condition” After another uneventful walk, you reach a mechanical metal door. It seems familiar to something you’ve heard about before... *An Elevator* Stepping in, you see a no wall of sleek stainless steel buttons as has been described to you, only a small keypad and a place to insert a keycard. The woman types in a few numbers and swipes a card. With a quick glance you notice it isn’t her’s. *Where is she taking us?* *Where is there even to go?* You’ve heard stories about the city. The last bastion of civilization surrounded by the endless ruins, the only place free from constant gunfire and government raids. You’ve heard of it as a golden place of glass and steel, perfect towers reaching into the sky. And then there’s the facility, a building that towers even the most magnificent of skyscrapers, a cement and glass mind factory powering the city. Nobody knows what exactly happens inside, nobody really wants to, even the inhumans whose families have been taken there. You’ve gotten lucky, broken out quickly, perhaps you and your sister could live a new life in the city as humans. Besides, nobody can really tell the difference. “*Yeah, I have two. Both young, fresh minds. I have their logs, it’ll be easy from there.”* The woman Speaks in a hushed tone over the phone. You feel a shot of dread crawl down your spine. *4000? Is that a joke? 8000 credits each. Final offer”* There’s a long pause. Your hair stands up on the back of your head. “*Fine, That’s a deal*” As the doors open, you hear a click, a real gun this time. You see a man with dark glasses stand in front of a truck. The woman pushes the pistol into your spine as she drags your sister forward. “Look honey, It was nice to meet you, really, but I... I have my own needs.” *A long time ago there were two classes, Uppers and lowers. Uppers had it all, food, money, jobs, power, there was nothing they couldn’t get. Lowers, they had nothing. They toiled in the factories and fields and got nothing for it. Food was scarce, housing was cramped, and dirt, grime, and pollution became nothing but familiar to them. The Uppers didn’t care, they only cared for themselves, millions in their accounts and not a single penny spent in the name of charity. The Lowers wanted change, they wanted fairness. The Uppers might have had the money, but they had the numbers. Society was nothing without their hard work. So that’s exactly what happened. A civil war on the scale not seen before. When the dust had settled, the lowers had won. The Uppers, in their oppression, in their detachment from the world, had lost their humanity, they had become inhuman. THE inhumans.