Interstellar Darkness
Chapter One:
Duska POV:
I awoke to the sound of muffled screaming and crying from nearby. It ended with several grunts and then the sound of someone choking, then dead silence. I smirked at myself for making that joke given I just overheard a murder. That sort of thing wasn't uncommon, however, given we all have seen things one would not usually recover from. I look over and see the rest of the captured and taken, still asleep soundly as if nothing had happened. I guess I'll be like them one day when I've had time here to ignore those things.
There would be no point in going back to sleep so might as well get ready for today's work. We are usually given 10 minutes to get dressed and in line for roll call. I got on my raggedy pants and a baggy shirt that I've been given by the guards or as the others nickname them, Watchers.
As I get mentally prepare myself for today's hell, I get a glance of myself in the cracked, warped mirror, I can still make out myself: I'm still standing on my two legs, covered in fur, from my snout to my tail and to my paws. I'm covered in a black soot from last week as it blends in with my fur color. I can see my stone cold eyes, with a color of a particular gemstone that the females here call "emeralds". I saw my back and I saw what was left from the whips they used on us for lack of speed. They look like streaks of hot, raging fire in my fur as it still burns to the touch. Near my neck is my mark, the symbol that shows that I am owned by the ones working in this place. It was a Circle, except it had two smaller circles and an assortment of lines in it, like a sort of barcode. No two marks were the same, except for the three circle pattern.
I start to finish up as the rest of the captured and stolen started getting ready as quickly as possible. When finished, I start to get in line with everyone else in my sector. There were a total of 17 of us in here, there was be 30, before an escape attempt. There were no survivors from it and those who are still here are here because they did not choose to go with them, for the ones standing next to me knew it was certain death.
They did not talk, nor did they show any emotion, for they became deaf of all hope and were stripped of there souls and now focused on surviving for as long as possible. Most of them were now we're husks of walking flesh, programmed like machines to follow orders and keep their mouths shut. The rest were cold-hearted and short-tempered, few of which were not hesitant to make a meal out of you.
After we were all accounted for we marched single file like soldiers going to war. Only, we were going to dig in mines instead of being on a battlefield, but the risks are one in the same. We marched down the hall, which was covered with several various posters with the same message: that we should be "thankful" that we're alive at the hands of the watchers.
Total Bullshit
After the hallway, was a large staircase, the spiraled along the wall and seemed endless as it went deep down into the core of the facility.
The entire complex was a hard labor camp, the base of it, however, is an asteroid in the Outer Rim of the Galaxy. Thousands of light years away from civilization or anything else of the sort, at least that's what they tell us. We were in the lower section of the station, while the other officials and the rest of the militia usually reside on the top. The asteroid itself contained veins of natural materials needed for arsenal and spacecraft. So, instead of having machines or other things do it, they have people like us, and when you can't move fast enough, you were beaten and most likely end up killed.
The others and I were stationed in mine 5B for the week. We are to mine substances called Gold and Titanium. At least it was safer than mining coal without gas masks. After the briefing of the materials and the rules, we are handed hard helmets, picks, and buckets. We were all then squeezed into a small elevator shaft, then we are sent down to the mines below.
On the way down, I start to daydream about a place better than this hell hole. A place where all of us can be ourselves and no longer afraid of anyone. It abruptly ends when the elevator arrived at our destination with a harsh stop. We all lose our balance and we all pile on top of one another. Slowly, the doors open, revealing two watchers. One of them yells furiously at us,
"Alright, you filthy animals! Get up and get working! We will not hesitate to make you!"
He whips out his nightstick, waving it into the mine behind him. We each got up quickly and started to get to work. I always felt out of place here, for as long as I can remember...