The Future, Lost

Two hairless people clothed in featureless apparel walk down a sterile white hallway lined with buzzing white bulbs. The one on the left is tall, the one on the right is short. A feminine silhouette, cloaked in tattered brown rags, with flowing brunette hair, bright blue eyes, and a fading smile, approaches from the opposite direction. Her form is slowly growing and her steps widen as she gets closer to the two featureless people. The short one raises a hand, pointing in the direction of the woman. "Look at that pregnant person, Caretaker." The Caretaker of the fresh young resource looks up from the short one, over to where it had just pointed, disgust overcoming its face. "Oh, how barbaric. To still be utilizing such outdated methods to bring forth bodies. It won't be long until those ones are extinct. It's for the best, we say," it announced. The face of the short one compresses, a quiver forming at the bottom lip. "Caretaker, we- we weren't developed in such an unsanitary way, were we?" The Caretaker crouches down to one knee, reaching into its pocket and pulling out a bottle of clear viscous liquid. "Time for treatment, we say," it said, while raising the bottle to the short one's mouth. The short one gulps at it as if it has no choice, the repulsive emotion now subsided. "No. They would not force such vileness upon us," the Caretaker finishes, before placing the bottle back for safe keeping. The pregnant woman walks by, both hands clutching the growing protrusion in her belly, canting her body to protect her unborn and shying her face in shame. The now monotone short one chases after the vulnerable mother-to-be, shoving her in the back of the knees, collapsing her to the ground, and proceeds to kick her repeatedly. "You're filthy! We hate you! We hate all your kind... you, you gendered! You natural!" it said, face strained with no more energy than is required to abuse a defenseless woman. The mother lays helpless, her body curled to protect her newborn. "Child..." she said between kicks, "I'm... so sorry they did this to you..." The child stops kicking. "Wha... what do you mean?" the child said. The mother reaches up to him with a beautifully delicate hand, resting it on that of the child's own, pulling him into a tight maternal embrace. "I'm so sorry I let this happen," she said, through sobs and tearing eyes. The sterile young boy's eyes widen, his face reeling from an emotion that he'd never felt before. The Caretaker's face contorts as it briskly walks over, resting the neglected boy from the mother's hands. "We ought to have you all sterilized," it said, before shoving the mother down with its foot, "But then where would we get the resources?"

The Caretaker turns back in the direction it was originally heading, dragging the fading child with it. As they walk down that sterile white hall, the young one turns around, its mind fogged with something that feels like pain, and a hole growing in its stomach. The mother lays forsaken, with her legs curled into the fetal position. Her face pained in agony, she reaches out with bloody fingers to the boy being pulled away. As he fades into nothing, the blood pools between her legs.