Something I cooked up for school. Never, EVER, ask a republican to write a short story based on Animal Farm.
A finger flickered, a switch was thrown. The lights dimmed, died, and came back on. A new smell wafted in on the tenor of a horrible moan- one of death and fire to mingle with the inevitable mildewey smell that inhabited the room usually.
The finger flickered, the switch was reset. 71245 left.
But his job was not done. She was yet alive.
The traitor, a girl of 16 units, had plenty of time for reflection in the dim, sluggish light and the heavy silence that would be her tomb. It seemed better than panicking about her quickly approaching death to think of other things, and so she did. Through sheer willpower, her mind was driven to recall the History. Many units ago, there had been a different world. Workers lived anywhere they chose, had their own jobs and food and families, and were even rumored to have controlled the Machine itself. They fought wars and had famines and stole and lied and stole again. But, they had freedom. The machine realized at some point that freedom was the root of all these problems. So, in the interest of saving all the good workers, it tricked the evil old workers into surrendering themselves to it, with promises of things that sparked the greed in their eyes. If that didn't work, the Machine beguiled them into feeling sorry for the others.But some particularly evil workers still believed in the old ways of freedom and choice, so they were persuaded to die. Then, the other evil workers were given new, helpful occupations. They volunteered for the most dangerous and awful tasks, to prove their loyalty, and died building the World.
No one went outside the World.
No one spoke.
No one was free.
And the girl had died for food.