I walk along the streets of my hometown. Leaves of scarlet, gold, and brown float down from the trees and decorate the sidewalks. A cool gust of wind pushes back my hair, chilling me despite the sun. I pull my sweater tighter around me, arms crossed against my chest.
Urgent footsteps briskly click against the pavement. I look up to find the Ruler striding toward me surrounded by bodyguards. I step aside to let them pass, my eyes cast down respectfully, but he and his men stop in front of me. What does he want? I wonder.
His swollen fingers pluck up the pendant that hangs around my neck. It dangles from his fingertips, the golden cross gleaming in the sunlight. “What is this, young lady?” he asks me.
“A necklace my parents gave me,” I reply. “To remind me Whose I am.” I pray he doesn’t pick up on the tremor in my voice.
He studies me for an eternity, his dark eyes shifting from me to my necklace before giving it a forceful tug, snatching it from my neck. He holds it up to the sky as if to appraise its value. “A lovely little addition to the national treasury.” He smirks at me.
Fear drives a cold stake in my heart. I’m lost. “Come with me, young lady,” he says in a friendly tone, though something tells me not all is well. 
He and his posse escort me to this large, domed building with a glass roof. The sun has vanished by now. Dark grey clouds crowd around the dome. The temperature has dropped several degrees and the terror in my heart has sunk to my stomach, spreading ice throughout like a cancer.
The Ruler shoves me through the automatic doors of the building. “Have a nice trip,” the Ruler says, his voice and his smile sinister. I shiver as the doors slide shut, and I’m left on my own to roam inside the building.
The interior is so sanitary it nearly blinds me. The ambience has a sterilized, medicinal smell with a hint of death. It reminds me of the mental hospital in One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, though none of the nurses look as terrifying as Nurse Ratched. There are dozens of white-clad nurses walking the floor in all directions, checking and scribbling notes on clipboards. All the whiteness disorients me.
I approach a young, bespectacled brunette. “Excuse me, the Ruler brought me here, and I don’t know what to do.”
She looks up from her clipboard and takes my wrist. She slides my sleeve up and squints at something on my arm. “Ah, yes. Number 093457. We’ve been expecting you.”
I look at my arm. Sure enough, tattooed in blue is the number 093457. When did that show up?
The nurse leads me into a large room packed with people. They squirm nervously, like worms on an operating table. Scanning the crowd, I soon spot my parents and I rush into their arms.
“Why did the Ruler bring us here?” I ask.
My mother strokes my hair. “I don’t know, sweetie.”
A giant flame leaps up from the center, and an intense, oppressive heat draws the air from my lungs. Shrieks rise up from all corners, and I then realize that I’m in a crematorium. A crematorium for the living. 
I sit up in bed, my heart galloping. Cold sweat runs down my back. I reach for my pendant, but it’s not there. I search around for the gold adornment. I don’t see it anywhere. 
I look up to see the Ruler sitting the corner of my room.
“Good morning, number 093457,” he says, bearing an evil smile exposing yellow teeth. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
I scream, knowing what’s going to happen next...