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This is the day I've been dreading, she thinks, but I can't help but be here. I'm going to die in a horrible way. But it is for my baby - that's how it works. My baby takes my soul, I will live on through it. I'll call myself Tiger after the extinct species that used to be kept in zoos. Yes, that sounds nice. Doesn't matter if I'm a girl or a boy at all, that name suits both.

The girl walks up to matron Carter, now an old, fragile character. "Do all mothers have to die for their babies? Even adults?" She asks, wondering if this is normal, "it just doesn't seem...right. "
"Of course all mothers die for their babies, haven't we told you that before?" Matron Carter's eyebrows touch together in concern. "Don't answer that. You should know, child, no babies have souls unless their mothers die. The babies would just perish, they may even become devils inside you and kill you anyway. Don't be so stupid, now go and get your food. "

I don't know why I doubt them after all these years. Why do I feel like it is wrong to be killed? It happens to everyone. Or...does it? What if my whole life has been a lie?

Marthos is the first child ever to doubt the Leader and his way of life.

----

M sits in her chair. Schplit. The plastic of the remotely controlled killing machine is cold on her thighs, even through the all in one she is wearing. It has a sort of window at the front, a hole where her skin is stretched over the baby inside, so they can perform surgery to remove it as soon as M dies. There is a neck brace on the suit too, with a metal clasp that the wearer attaches the blade to. There is also a line on the neck brace, a weak point, that the blade slices through.

No. Don't do this to me.

The girl attaches the blade to the neck brace. She fumbles with it, then drops it. Looking closely at the blade and its sharp, serrated curves, she sees blood on the very tip. Just the tiniest bit. It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt.

"How do I attatch this, miss?" Looking at the matron, she shakes, her voice breaking. All the girls stare at her. "Ah, got it."

The girl's face flushes a deep scarlet. She sees the tiny remote control in the Leader's hand, and suddenly realises her life is so precious. That tiny little thing, one tiny little finger on one tiny little button, could end her life.

So she does the unthinkable.

I hate you. I hate this. I have to get out.

She unclips the neck brace, very subtly, and undoes the lock on the blade. She puts her hands on her belly and slowly unzips the suit. M lowers herself down so the helmet on her head is in the way of the blade. Her brain is her soul, so even if the blade gets through the helmet somehow, her baby will die. No pain, no suffering, no matron, no life, no Leader for the baby.

"Are you ready? Any last words?" The Leader bellows with a smirk. It pleasures him to see the girls suffering.

A lot of noise threatens to erupt.

A high voice yells from across the room. "I HATE YOU! I HATE THE WORLD! JUST -"

The girl is stopped in her tracks. M doesn't know what has happened. Then she turns ever so slightly to see the leader throw the remote on the floor. There is a loud metallic crash. He throws out his hand to catch something. Marthos' helmet blocks her view, but the matrons and the chefs start cheering, and the leader lets out a long, evil laugh. More of a groan really. But M is still alive, her helmet had protected her. She hangs her head low, bends her neck in a way that looks as if it is not attached to her body. So much so it hurts to breathe. She is clever, Marthos, the cleverest girl in the cult. She knows to wait until the blue curtain is drawn around A. Aimee. Oh no! She thinks, All of my friends are dead!

She forces the thought out of her mind. She must be strong.

All the staff bundle into the curtain space. M hears the cry of a baby. Aimee's baby. I need to be quick, she thinks, as she slips out of her seat and towards the door. She knows she will still die, but she needs to do something for her daughter. She must face her fears to get there.

She will die...

But she will die knowing something the Leader doesn't.

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