Against an army

prologue

Loud sirens could be heard all over the dimly lit basement as male workers pushed machines containing large bricks, glasses, and metals. Some even carried large stones.

It was midday and the day was far from ending. The heat from the sun could be felt even from inside but no one dared to wipe even a single sweat.
There moves were closely monitored by cameras all over the place and the watchman who was constantly moving through.

" Move it! Come on! Move your lazy
asses you bastards!" The watchman roared as he passed trough the long lines of workers.

"Move it! You!" He yelled at a young man in his twenties who was very thin and looked very sick one could think he was sixteen.

The watchman was big, very big. Almost not able to carry himself for long but he was  also tall and strong. He was white but his face had turned red due to sunburn. he was bald but his mustache was still intact and almost covering his mouth, yellow indicating that his hair was once yellow too. Same was for his eyebrows. His eyes were so small that one would think he was walking around sleeping. Sweat was constantly running down his fat neck, his armpits were already soaked up as well as between his legs. His uniform was starting to have marks of sweats all over.

" How are you holding that? What if you break it? Will you pay it with that cheap life of yours? No,death could be way better. You should know what you will suffer if you damage one of those.Come on, move it!" The terrified man pushed forward with almost no energy left in his arms. He was trembling and sweating so unusually.

" Roonie do you copy!" He heard his walkie talkie and clicked.

" copy!" He said and moved away from the young man who sighed a sigh of relief and went slower. His energy was draining out of him.

" Hey Roonie, get over to the left wing, the Boss is calling for you. Quick. Over"

" Alright, I am on my way. Over" he buckled his belt way and run out of the basement.

The young man immediately collapsed and nobody cared to check on him. everybody kept doing their work passing by his body and doing nothing but shooting him pitiful glances. Nobody could really do anything in that place except following orders.

Somewhere in the right corner sat a man who was smoking and observing everything. the ray burns on his eyes made it impossible to read his expression. He was dressed like the rest of the workers but for some reason he had taken a break and the watchman had seemed okay with it.

" Hey who do you think he is?" One of the young men in the line asked a fellow in front of him.

" Don't ask questions. Just work. Thats the only way to survive in this hell. you know whose life is on the line, don't you?"

" yes. My family." He answered and bent his head.

" Good. Now move on!" He answered and then went on with his work.

The young man stole one last glance at the Man with the cigar and followed his fellow's advice.