Chapter 17. The Demon Flame Clan and their Slave Labor Camp
Demonic flames, this is the name of these creatures. They were named after the first race they invaded and enslaved. Demonic flames meant devil or monster in the language of the first victims. And this word is the only remaining word of that race. The demonic flames abused, tortured and killed that race until it finally disappeared and became extinct. In the following generations, more races suffered the same fate, ever since the demonic flames suddenly appeared in front of people, bringing panic and fear to their neighbors. Now his race would face this fate, and there was nothing he could do about it. Besides showing personal resistance here, if he can survive this encounter, feel smug about his small victory. But it was a pale victory, for in the end it could not save his race.
The watcher pushed him hard against the small mine cart he was pushing. "Forward," he ordered, the guard's voice still formidable even as the small computer automatically translated it.
He held on to the car tightly and supported it with all his strength. The car walked on the track in the mine, creaking and moving. Slowly, step by step, he left the guard. The watcher suddenly hit him hard with an electric whip, but he had to hold back the sudden surge of pain. He would never let the Watchers succeed. He was actually able to stand. But he would not lie down to sleep if given the chance, as he soon realized. The surroundings grew darker as we got farther and farther away from the watcher. Only a few dim lights illuminated the dark passage. Just enough for the prisoners to get their bearings. The light here is a bit like dusk on a full moon night. The guards of the demonic flames have an advantage in this light. In this light, their compound eyes can still see enough that they don't lose control of their victims. In addition, the guards were equipped with powerful lamps to torture their victims, as most prisoners' eyes had long since adapted to the darkness. The prisoners never reach the planet's surface or enter a bright room.
This is a mining tunnel in Demon Flame. A dry and dusty hell cave in the middle of an insignificant planet. Those who come here should not expect to escape or be rescued. This is the entrance to hell, and the only exit is death. Here, no one can leave alive. He understood this from day one. The measures taken by Demon Yan were too effective. In this mine, slaves who could not be sold were forced to mine. Because they were either incompetent for other jobs, or rebellious, or there were too many slaves. Slave traders were never willing to take any chances because a surplus of slaves could cause slave prices to fall. Therefore, only the best, strongest, and most beautiful slaves are sold in Demon Flame's slave market. The rest ends here. Although he couldn't decide which fate was worse.
He pushed the heavy cart slowly. Although the track under his feet was even, the continuous uphill climb exhausted the last of his strength. The empty minecart was already heavy, and when it was loaded with mined ore, pushing it was a torture. And there was no one to help him. Every prisoner here has his own mission, and completing these missions is difficult in itself. There is no time or energy to help others here.
He has to push the minecart to the elevator. From there, the minecart will be transported to the surface. He didn't know what would happen next, and he didn't care. All he knew was that at the elevator, he had to dump the ore in the minecart. Then he will use the empty truck to go back underground again and continue his endless work. Since the minecart has no brakes, it will take more effort to keep the cart from rolling when going downhill. At the end of each day, he would be grateful if he could still reach his sleeping spot, because he was always so exhausted.
Screams echoed there, the screams of scolded companions. The screams were so terrifying that they reverberated through the fabric of the corridors and echoed twistedly through the caverns. It sounded like it came from the depths of hell. Screams and cries from prisoners of different species, here sharing the same fate. Some of the screams were intermittent and were accompanied by the crackle of electric whips and the voices of jailers. Other screams gradually turned into constant cries, getting lower and lower in volume before disappearing altogether. Another prisoner died. This is an event that happens multiple times a day. Over time, however, people grew accustomed to the screams. They become numb and don't even notice them anymore. It becomes a constant background noise, like the hum of a machine, and people stop thinking about it. This may also be a kind of self-protection of the brain, otherwise people may go crazy.
He walked slowly down the corridor. Kneeling and crouching companions on the left and right sides used primitive tools to chip away at the rock. They usually only have hammers and chisels, and very few picks. Some people even dig with their hands. If they don't dig up enough ore, they'll be severely punished. Men, women, even children. Demonic flames do not treat them differently. Any creature that can obey orders is suitable for Demon Flame to work here. Here he has seen old people and children as young as five years old. But there were very few elderly people or children, as most could not survive for long in the cruel and unsanitary conditions.
Only a few meters away, he reached the elevator entrance. He must then slide down the corridor again with the empty cart and pull out a new cart of ore. Then everything starts over again. Day by day passed like this. again and again. Until he died of malnutrition and abuse. He already understood this. He had seen the same fate too many times to know how he would end up. There is no chance of escape.
He reached the elevator. A huge, gray steel monster, the top disappearing into the darkness. Even here, obviously in the upward direction, no light comes in. Apparently, Demon Flame wanted to avoid having a beam of light that might spark hope in the prisoner. Prisoners who have given up all hope are easier to control because their will is broken.
Large collection container, used to collect ore, approximately two meters deep and five meters wide. It is buried underground to make it easier to pour the ore from the minecart into the container. However, the design is not to make the prisoner's job easier, but to increase efficiency. Without spending as much time on transfers, they can get back to work faster. At the end of each day, the containers are pulled up. There were always prisoners trying to hide in the elevators, trying to get up with them. But there are rumors that the elevator passes through a scanner or similar device on its way up. It is said that this scanner can disintegrate all living matter. This prevented disease and the escape of slaves. He didn't know if that was true. No one had ever returned from such an escape attempt. It's not because crazy people got away. Because once up there, they're still trapped on the planet. A planet without its own atmosphere. Once you reach the top, there is nowhere to go. So at least there, it's a dead end for every escapee. The ore is unloaded there, and the next day the containers are empty again waiting for new ore.
The elevator was loaded with a lot of ore today. The results of the excavation were good. But it was no use to him. Demon Flame doesn't reward anyone for a job well done. Only being punished for not doing enough work. If they don't meet yesterday's goal today, they will be punished immediately. Today's results will make them feel even more stressed tomorrow. He was pretty sure that they would all be punished tomorrow.
A high, long scream echoed through the corridor. This signals the end of today's work. Now, they have four hours to rest and recuperate. Then they must work another eighteen hours. This is the daily schedule.
Just before reaching the elevator, a passage extends to the left. No mining work is carried out here. This passage leads to the lounge, if this place can be called a lounge. It is a huge cave that can house more than two thousand creatures. At the end of the day, all the prisoners in this mine must come here. Once everyone arrives, an ancient steel gate closes, trapping them here. Just like animals. Although this is not necessary since they have nowhere to go in the first place. So creatures from different worlds meet here. There is no translator at all. Sometimes misunderstandings arise that can be fatal to one of the parties.
He crossed the room cautiously. He definitely didn't want to accidentally bump into anyone or even step on anyone. He didn't want to start a fight over an unconscious conflict. Here, lighting is kept to a minimum, as elsewhere in the mine. The other end of the cave disappeared in darkness and grey. The semi-dim light loomed over the prisoners like a benevolent shadow, obscuring the misery and terror that spread among them. They squatted everywhere and used the short time remaining to sleep. The best sleeping spots were occupied by the strongest prisoners. Usually they are new ones and their energy has not been exhausted yet. Until they exhausted their strength here and were driven off by new slaves. The best places are in the corners and gaps of rooms. Others sleep in various parts of the room where they can find space without disturbing others. But everyone had to freeze on the cold, stone-strewn floor. This planet has no fiery core, it's just a rock in the universe. Therefore it has no heat source of its own. The lack of an atmosphere also makes it a cold, inhospitable place. The warmth here depends only on the body heat of the prisoners. They didn't feel cold during hard work, but here it always feels cold. The prisoners used the rags they wore to keep warm. Some of them have become skin and bones. Living skeletons, whose bodies generate little of their own heat, quickly become cold. He also lost weight. If he's lucky, he'll live another two months. If that can be called lucky.
His sleeping spot was at the other end of the room, close to the wall. He can still hold this place now. Sitting down tiredly, it shouldn't take long for him to fall asleep, his mind at least briefly detached. Before closing his eyes and going to sleep, his gaze turned to the right. There was a relatively young woman lying there. Her hair, about shoulder length, was torn and frayed like ancient broom bristles splayed out in every direction. In the darkness, her color was obscured and her specific facial features were unclear. She must have been beautiful once. She must be hungry and her hair and skin are dry. Scars covered her body. Her eyes were sunken into their sockets, giving her a slightly unusual expression.
He gave her a small smile, and she smiled back. She came closer and gently placed her hand on his chest. "How are you today, Charles?" she asked softly, her voice friendly and completely uncharacteristic of this environment, as if she didn't belong here.
"Still the same," he replied shortly. He didn't want her to worry. So what, she couldn't change anything. So he didn't tell her about the confrontation with the guards. She just feels worried. It's a waste of their existence. Still, he had to lie on the ground so she couldn't see the traces of the shock whip. The hard floor pressed painfully against the wound, and the coldness of the stone provided little relief. He had to restrain himself from letting her notice the pain he was going through.
Charles knew she loved him, and Charles loved her. He wanted to ease her worries as much as possible. Their time is running out. This is true for the brief moments they get to be together, and for the rest of their lives. He didn't want to waste his time worrying.
She kissed him and snuggled against him. "I don't have anything special going on here." Apparently she was the same as him. If something happened, she would keep it a secret. Charles respected this and stopped asking.
Love among prisoners was not uncommon. They are closely linked by a common fate and inevitable outcome. Additionally, they provide support to those affected and make the whole experience slightly more bearable. However, they didn't have much time. Such lovers rarely get the chance to work together. They usually only have these four hours, and sleep is the most important during these four hours because the work pushes everyone to their limits. And there is no privacy at all. Charles couldn't do the final act with her in the presence of everyone else, which is why he gave up. Furthermore, he would put her life at risk if she became pregnant. Her fate was sealed. Mo Yan is not happy to see the decline in work performance. And their understanding of pregnancy is almost zero. Charles once saw a pregnant woman's belly slashed open and everything inside taken out. This woman must have gone through hell until she finally died. He must prevent her from such a fate.
The stench of blood, urine, and feces hung in the air, a stench that would instantly make any normal person feel extremely sick. It was unbearable, but over time people got used to it. There is no other way. There was the sound of someone vomiting loudly in the distance. That must be a new prisoner. Because every prisoner knows to avoid emptying his stomach. There's too little to eat here, and I can't spit out such a small amount again.
"When we leave here, we will go to a place where we can live in peace. We will build a house and start a family. And live happily until the end of our lives," she murmured wearily.
Charles looked at her. She knew there was no way they were going to get out of here alive. Still, she kept making plans and dreaming about the future. She pretended everything would be fine. Because of this, he loved her. He stroked her hair tenderly. "Yes, we will," he said softly. "We will."
The door creaked and then was forced open. It hit the rock wall with a thud. The blow almost completely destroyed the newly calm atmosphere, echoing through the cave like multiple echoes. The prisoners awoke, frightened and awake. Most of those present were familiar with the brutal process that followed. Trembling, many tried to make themselves as small as possible, hoping not to be noticed. Some started crying and whimpering. Fear and panic gripped the prisoners. A cold fear of death gripped their hearts. The fatigue of the day disappears instantly. There is a frightening fear in the air now.
