(no subject)
They were just whispers, at first.
"There are people outside..."
"--heard there might be a rescue..."
"--powers or something and the blonde said we need to fight--"
"--too dangerous, they'll just kill us all--
"--have to try, right? Have to fight? We're all going to die anyway..."
"--why would anyone risk their lives for us?"
Like a super-secretive game of whisper down the alley, the slaves passed along the news. Some took hope, waited for rescue. Some got ready to help rescue themselves.
And the people around them too. The Farm brought people down to their knees, stripped them away to their barest. You saw the true measure of a man or woman in the Farm, and sometimes what you saw was unexpected. The large man all full of bass and bravado crying and whimpering and begging to be saved as the Magog descended upon him. But then there'd be the little girl with her chin stuck up in the air, spitting at her captors in the face as they infested her.
It made it so that people bonded to one another quickly.
So some were ready to fight and die to save the people that huddled next to them in the cages.
The whispers spread, and for some there was hope, although many were so far gone into despair they couldn't be helped.
People prepared. Small items were stolen, nothing big enough for the Magog to notice. A glass bottle here, a small bit of aluminum pipe there, a rusty screw, some alcohol, chlorine tablets that were used to keep the water supply fresh, a screwdriver.
Many of the slaves were working in the industrial complex today. Some were still in the cages. Some were dying.
There were whispers.
The Magog, who rarely feared anything, were uneasy.
"There are people outside..."
"--heard there might be a rescue..."
"--powers or something and the blonde said we need to fight--"
"--too dangerous, they'll just kill us all--
"--have to try, right? Have to fight? We're all going to die anyway..."
"--why would anyone risk their lives for us?"
Like a super-secretive game of whisper down the alley, the slaves passed along the news. Some took hope, waited for rescue. Some got ready to help rescue themselves.
And the people around them too. The Farm brought people down to their knees, stripped them away to their barest. You saw the true measure of a man or woman in the Farm, and sometimes what you saw was unexpected. The large man all full of bass and bravado crying and whimpering and begging to be saved as the Magog descended upon him. But then there'd be the little girl with her chin stuck up in the air, spitting at her captors in the face as they infested her.
It made it so that people bonded to one another quickly.
So some were ready to fight and die to save the people that huddled next to them in the cages.
The whispers spread, and for some there was hope, although many were so far gone into despair they couldn't be helped.
People prepared. Small items were stolen, nothing big enough for the Magog to notice. A glass bottle here, a small bit of aluminum pipe there, a rusty screw, some alcohol, chlorine tablets that were used to keep the water supply fresh, a screwdriver.
Many of the slaves were working in the industrial complex today. Some were still in the cages. Some were dying.
There were whispers.
The Magog, who rarely feared anything, were uneasy.