Anita

Sirens erupted from the speakers, loud, obnoxious. It was the same every day. Twenty seconds to make it out of the room, in whatever you were wearing, or you would be punished. Anita knew the consequences but still she took her time. Tossing her covers to the side and stretching her arms above her head, before walking to the door. Not even making it halfway before her time was up.

Bam!

The door to her apartment burst open and her Keeper wrapped his fingers in her hair and dragged her out into the hallway, tossing her roughly to the ground. The others stared at her wide eyed, their arms spread out in the required position as the guards pat them down. They feared for her but Anita couldn’t bring herself to care. She remained on her knees, knowing full well what was coming for her seconds of lateness, and tugged her shirt over her head, sparing it the stains of her blood that were sure to come. The crystals on her body glistened in the dim light, layers and layers of the light blue stones covering most of her skin like feathers, exactly as they did for everyone in this hellhole. Everyone except the guards and the Keepers that is.

Robert Conwell. The sick, sadist of a Keeper that had been assigned to her wing was never lenient. She heard the shuffling of the guards as they passed her Keeper the bat. About the thickness of a softball, and grooved to inflict the highest amount of pain. Anita had felt the sting of it many times over her years in this place. And every time it hurt just as much as the last.

No warning, there never was. Her back exploded in agony as he swung at her with all his strength. She felt several crystals, the most sensitive parts of her skin, shatter under the impact but she refused to cry out. Refused to give him the satisfaction of her pain as she turned to meet his gaze. His harsh green eyes didn’t show any sympathy, just sick satisfaction. Why they’d ever hired this scumbag she’d never know, but she was stuck with him and there was nothing she could do about it.

He struck again, this time hitting the fragile flesh of her collarbone and her head snapped forward into the carpet. Dazed, it took a moment for her to recover and two guards roughly grabbed her arms and yanked her to her feet. She waited, tensed for the next blow, but it never came. She glanced back at him but he had already lowered the weapon and she was surprised he was only taking two shots today, usually it hit four, or five. One particularly brutal occasion he had hit her almost twenty times, until the pain was so bad she couldn’t even stand afterwards. But that had been because she’d smashed a guard’s head into the ground. Oops.

Deciding not to anger them further she spread her arms out, allowing them to roughly pat her down without resistance. No care was taken for her injuries as they glided their hands down her body. She didn’t have anything on her and the guards nodded at her Keeper and he put his hand on her neck, pushing her back into her room and watching as she got ready.

She quickly changed her clothes, wincing when the fabric touched her broken crystals but took her time doing up her shoes. She didn’t know why she did it, maybe she was a masochist, or maybe she just enjoyed the frustration on his face, knowing he would never break her.

He still held the bat in his hand and tapped it impatiently. “Move it, the horde won’t wait forever.” That spurred her into movement. Fighting was the only thing she liked about this place, the only reason she stayed, not that she could really get away anyway. Even if she could make it through the protection spell, designed to keep her kind in, and the others, the horde, out. They would never stop hunting her. Her powers were useful, and the government would never let them escape.

She stuffed her laces into her shoes and jogged back into the hallway. The Keeper jerked his head and she was given a thick, disgustingly sweet smoothie to drink while she waited for the others. She would have killed for something, anything unhealthy at that point, but treats were rare and they needed them at peak condition to fight. Not that it stopped the humans from beating the life out of them when it suited them.

They only let them get ready one at a time, always escorted by the Keeper to make sure they didn’t grab any weapons. Their powers wouldn’t work on the humans and they made sure they never had a knife, or any other tool that could be used to hurt one of them. The humans would search the rooms as her kind fought, take anything they thought they had smuggled in and beat them if they did.

The next one finished quickly and the Keeper moved on. The slim fragile girl that was stationed next to Anita never disobeyed, never hesitated, never stalled. She had a perfect record, almost. Her first day she’d tried to stop one of Anita’s beatings and Robert had torn into her ruthlessly. She had been out of commission for a week and hadn’t stepped a foot out of line since.

The girl, Layette, gave Anita a sad look, her soft hazel eyes peeking out through a mask of green crystal and chocolate skin. Race didn’t matter here, they would fight together or die alone. Anita glanced away, focusing her gaze on the far door. She didn’t want pity. She brought her punishments down on herself. She could easily behave if she wanted to. Sprint out of her bed in the morning, spread her arms as they searched her, keep her head down and do as she was told. But she wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t rest until this hellhole had burned to the ground with the horde and if they thought she would submit like a little bitch they were sadly mistaken.