The Twelve Days

[Monday, 20 December, 2258 | A Christmas Feast]

After Del’s fate, Virginia didn’t get any sleep last night.  Instead, every time she closed her eyes, she was greeted by images of Del.  Images of his warm smile.  Of his gaping chest wound.  It is now 4:30am, Nanny informs her—if Virginia had slept, it would have been the best sleep-in she’s been afforded since her arrival.

Ms. Nagal enters the cell, and inspects Virginia to ensure she is still kept snuggly in the chair.  Usually, by this point, Ms. Nagal would have spoken by now, but Virginia does not dare start the conversation.  Instead, she just dreads what Ms. Nagal has instore for her this time.

Finally, Ms. Nagal speaks.  “There’s still hope for you, child.  Not like Del, not like the monsters in here.  At best, they’re destined for life in prison.  At worst, they’ll all end up like Del.  It’s best you forget all about him.”

“Del was not a monster!  He was a man.  A good man.  And you had him killed!”

This is the second time that Virginia hears Ms. Nagal’s laugh, and it hasn’t gotten any less unsettling since the first.

“Oh, my poor, deluded child.  You had your dear friend killed.”

Ms. Nagal reaches inside Virginia’s pocket, pulling out the two bars that the girl had planned on starting to eat last night, before she lost her appetite.

“Was it worth it?” Ms. Nagal asks as she unwraps the bars.  “Were these worth your friend’s life?”

“No,” Virginia insists.

“Are you sure?  I mean, how do you know if you haven’t tried them?” Ms. Nagal asks.  “You’re going to have to find out.”

Ms. Nagal forces Virginia’s mouth open and pushes the bar all the way in, filling her mouth.  “You will finish this,” she says, drawing her gun and pressing it against Virginia’s head.  Del was right, the bar does taste so fucking good.  But that sensational flavour doesn’t make it any easier for Virginia to fight the bloating and urge to vomit as she is force fed a week’s worth of food.

Her stomach overloaded, and feeling ill from all the chocolatey goodness, Virginia groans.

“That looked quite appetising.  But I don’t think you really thought about your friend, and what your little snack cost him,” Ms. Nagal says.

Suddenly, the room is illuminated by holographic footage of Del bleeding out.  The soldiers stand, watching, refusing to help.  As Virginia begins to cry, Ms. Nagal shoves the second bar into the child’s mouth, forcing her to chew, and eventually, swallow the bar.

“Try not to throw up, child,” Ms. Nagal says as she leaves the cell.  “Nobody will be helping you with clean-up.”