When I was seven, the supervisors gathered everyone who was under the age of ten, and loaded us into a bus.
They told us that people outside of the breeding house had been having children. They said that they needed to deal with that problem. If they couldn't stop people from having sex, then they would stop the people from having children.
Even at such a young age, I understood what that meant.
They were going to do something that would stop me from having babies. They were going to make it so that the only way I could have children would be if I was in the breeding house.
I didn't want to go to the breeding house. I didn't want to have rough me force themselves on me.
But something about having the ability to have a child ripped away from me broke my heart.
I couldn't let them.
I sat in the middle of the bus, my side pressed against the window while two frail children pushed in beside me.
We all wore shock collars and tracking bracelets that itched terribly in the mid July heat.
We drove in silence for several hours to a rest stop in the middle of nowhere.
No one told us where we were going.
No one said a thing.
So we sat there and accepted whatever fate would befall us. Only, the supervisors had made a mistake. They had failed to activate my shock collar. I'd noticed that the collars couldn't be activated remotely and were only manually turned on.
Though my tracker bracelet and chip were both still in place, I could easily cut the wires and the chip from my arm.
I'd waited for hours, my small mind coming up with different escape plans.
Even as a small child who had been raised and sculpted to be obedient, I rebelled.
But when were finally far enough away, I finally made my escape.
As we'd gone out for a bathroom break, I'd climbed through a loose air vent and out to the back of the gas staion.
That had been the first time I'd run.
I hadn't even made it two miles before the guards sent to watch us, tracked me down and beat me within an inch of my life.
When I'd woken, I'd been laying on a metal table, the scent of witch magic in the air and a pain in my stomach that felt as if I'd lost a part of me.
And I had.
They'd taken my children. They'd taken my future. They'd taken my legacy, if I had any at all.
That had been the first and only time I'd ever run.
I'd run to protect my future children. Children I didn't even know if I'd be having.
Whether it was the possibility that I would have something that carried on, or the idea that I was not just living for myself but for future children, that urged me to flee, I didn't know.
But this urge to run was different, that urge had been purely unselfish. Now, as knelt near a pool of blood, the need to run was completely of selfpreservation.
But just like back then, it was pointless to run.
I knew they would always find me.
So I got up from my spot on the floor, and pulled a silent alarm beside the doorway.
The guards would be on their way momentarily.
I only hoped they would wait long enough before killing me to hear what I had to say.
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The Omega
WerewolfWarning Slow updates Nehimieah, an omega, was trained from the time she could walk to be a slave. Never one to fight back, she fit in nicely. Beaten and abused, Nehimieah is treated like dirt, along with the rest of the omega slaves. With sparks o...