We'll Let The Fires Just Bathe Us

Hi I’m Alex, and I’m a slave.
I’m not that special, I mean a lot of us are. And by ‘a lot’ I mean all. Humans used to be the top dogs. We used to rule the world if you will. But one day all that changed. That’s when the demons overpowered us. There used to be people called ‘hunters’ who would kill demons and send them back to hell but I guess they all died trying to stop this. When you think about it, it was pretty inevitable. I mean come on, they’re stronger than us, faster than us, they can possess people, although normally a demon will wait until the person is dead before possessing their corpse, that way the person isn’t trapped in their own body, damned to have a demon control them for all eternity.
It’s like you put steroids on steroids, then injected it into someone. Humans are the slaves and honestly, the term ‘slave’ is generous. We are used for every purpose. Labor, sexual desire, an outlet for demons with anger issues (coming from hell isn’t exactly a picnic), even food. We’re basically livestock. Some have it better, some have masters who are kind and treat them like friends rather than inferiors. But then there are people like me. Granted, I don’t have an abusive master, but I don’t have it much better. I live in a concentration camp. Once again ‘camp’ is a generous term.
“GET UP!” A guard screams. I was already awake. It’s hard to sleep when all you can hear is the cries of the fearful and the coughs of the sick. We made a point to steer clear of the ill. It may seem harsh, but sickness means death, even if it’s just a simple cold. I jumped up quickly. We had exactly five minutes to make our ‘cot’ to perfection, use the bathroom, and wash up. I’d gotten good at making my bed. I didn’t bother with trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the lower sheet, I just hid the mess with the thicker blanket and hoped guards wouldn’t double check. I ran to the bathrooms and scrubbed my body quickly, scrubbing extra hard over the tattoo which read,

6782

That was my name, or at least it was according to them. Like I said before, my given name is Alex, but that means nothing here. If you’re caught calling people by something other than their numbers, you’ll be executed. I finished quickly and got out. Life here was about speed. Do everything to utmost perfection, but do it faster than humanly possible. That’s why I slept in my boots. If someone steals your shoes, you’ll be slower and guards will probably beat you to death to get you to ’speed up’. It’s all a lie though, they’re just itching for an excuse to kill somebody. I moved to the mess line and grabbed my tray. Someone ladled this brownish mush onto my plate. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I had no idea what it was but I knew better than to ask what it was…I didn’t want to know. I moved to an empty table in the farthest corner of the room. Some people sat with friends, or family if they hadn’t been killed or sent to another camp, but I didn’t. I was born in a camp, then my parents were separated from each other and me when I was four. A women named Grace took me in and looked after me…But I don’t really want to discus what happened to her. I shoveled the food into my mouth quickly so I didn’t have to linger on it. It didn’t necessarily taste bad as it was pretty bland, but the texture was revolting. The best way I could put it was vomit. It was watery and had these squishy chunks which made me shudder when I sent it down. I chugged the dirty water in my cup and put my tray on the stack near the end of the line. I went back to my table and sat, poking at the obvious bones in my wrist. We were fed enough to keep us alive but that’s about it. We were all just skin and bones. Not only did they want to waste money or time on decent food, but they also wanted us weak so we wouldn’t fight back.

Not today.

I’ve told myself this phrase everyday ever since I can remember. It helped me a lot, especially through training but that is another subject I don’t want to discuss. It meant that today I wasn’t going to die. Today I would get through it. Today I would stay out of trouble. I was not going to be killed. Not today.
A loud whistle blew signaling it was time to line up. Everyone rushed to get their trays on the stack and out the door before being beaten for ‘being lazy’. I had already taken care of my tray so I just jogged out. Four lines were forming. Which line you were in was what you were referred to. For example if you were in he first line, you were a one. Second, a two. Third, a three. And Forth a four. The First was labor. Things like digging ditches, building, repairing, and things like that. Second line was food. They were in charge of making Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. People ridiculed them for providing such disgusting food but I knew they were just doing the best they could. They had to prepared food for five hundred (we were over capacity but no one seemed to care) humans and six hundred guards and the guard’s food actually had to be decent, they probably had the hardest job here. Third was cleaning, that was me. We clean everything from the bathroom floors, to the guard’s room. I had the wonderful occupation of cleaning the incinerators. That’s where they burned the bodies that couldn’t fit into the mass grave…So that meant I had to clean it every day. Then there was the Fourth line. People liked to pretend it didn’t exist. Line Four was stress relief for the guards, though I can’t think of anything for them to be stressed about. It was filled with people who would either be beaten or raped. This line was mostly females but they threw a few men in there for the gay guards. I was lucky I wasn’t a four. They almost put me in there because apparently I’m attractive enough, but when five of the threes died, they put me in three. After line up, they counted us all. It wasn’t really necessary to count us, I mean come on, where are we going to go? But they did just so they could make us stand in the freezing cold wearing nothing but our rags. After an hour of standing, the whistle sounded and we set off. Myself and other threes grabbed our buckets of soap and brushes before scrubbing the remains of charred flesh off the metal. It wasn’t the easiest job but it sure as hell wasn’t the worst. After they were all clean, which took all day. We all lined up against the wall while guards brought in the bodies of the people who had died that day. We were usually able to get out of there before they started burning them, but today was not so pleasant. The smell of burning flesh lingered in our noses and clothes when we finally got out. Now we had some free time before dinner. This was usually spent sleeping or nursing wounds received that day. Again, I stayed away because wounds could get infected and you could fall ill. Dinner was the same as breakfast and straight after we went to bed, trying not to hear the cries of the frightened and coughs of the sick.

Notes

Title cred: Mama by My Chemical Romance

heyyy it's me.
okay so I know I'm writing We Were Born To Lose, but I had this idea and started it off as a oneshot but then was like "Nahh this needs to be a thing" so I decided to go with it. I have no idea how it'll effect my WWBTL updating schedule but I'm gonna write it anyway.

Also I watched a video of Alex doing Backseat Serenade acoustic
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrjvHx-sIb4 )
and I legit almost cried.