Microfiction Monday: Obey


“Get up! All of you!” he shouts.

I wake up on the ground in the sun, face pressed into the dirt. Opening my eyes I see carnage scattered all around—animals mostly.

“Fifteen of you died last night,” he says. “Five for being stupid, seven I had to execute, and three from illness.”

Everyone gets to their knees in rows, hands behind their backs, listening. He is young with curly blond hair hanging over his forehead. Threatening. We will all die if we don’t follow orders.


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