The crack of the whip echoed around the dank and dark halls, giving their victim a three-second warning letting them know what was coming.  In some ways, the sound of the whip cracking through the air was worse than the inevitable slash through the milky white skin of its target.  She held her breath, a mistake, as the leather torture device made contact and air she had kept inside escaped, causing the guard to chuckle with delight. 

Usually, she passed out with the pain within around 20 minutes right when filled with the iron taste of blood from fighting to keep her screams silent.  Maybe moments after her wails burst from her lips and her last scream stopped echoing through the hallways.  Today felt longer than usual, he’d been going for at least 45 minutes before her audible pain even escaped her. 

Alexa, was a young woman of 24, and the only criminal left in Seoul.  She was also the longest serving prisoner after her brother had died a year ago.  Since then the guards had not much else to do to occupy themselves but abuse her as much as they liked. 

She’d been brought into the prison as she just turned 12, along with the rest of her family, her sister, brother, mother.  All without a trial, as usual in these circumstances. Just one cold night she was roughly woken and hauled into a police van, left to rot in prison forever.  Their crimes; relatives of a criminal. 

At some point in the night she regained consciousness.  It was dim and quiet, just the gentle hum of the lights ringing through the prison walls and a foul mouldy smell in the air.  Her whole body was throbbing in raw pain from the lashings that day, laying on what was little more than a sheet on the floor as a poor excuse for a bed. If she had to guess from the amount of pain she felt, she thought the guard had carried on lashing her for a good hour or two after she had passed out.  The fresh open wounds oozed making her thin ragged shirt stick to her scrawny frame.  In the dark of night like this, it was the only time she had any semblance of peace and as usual she couldn’t help herself as the tears leaked out of her eyes.  She made no noise, learning early on that if she did a guard would be in her cell abusing her more.  Alexa held her sobs back, accepting her miserable life, pushing the noises back down , but she hadn’t learnt how to stop the tears from escaping when they stung in her eyes.

It wasn’t fair; she hadn’t done any wrong to the world. Mostly when she cried it was because of the unjustness of her life, of the way the world unfairly treated her.  In society, criminals were not only not tolerated, but they were also hated, hated for taking away the purity over that city.  Barely receiving a trial or hearing, most, if not all were convicted at once, then their families thrown into jail after them.  It was an old law to stop criminals from breeding more criminals.  Criminal bloodlines they called it.  It worked, seeing as in Seoul Alexa was the only criminal left in the city, but it didn’t make it unfair on the innocent like Alexa.  Her grandfather had committed adultery, in olden times before the soulmate marks were discovered the whole world had engaged in adultery.  After the discovery, when people began to die from soulsickness after being rejected, it was banned, then criminalised, and eventually, no one did it, along with any other crimes. 

The next morning, she was woken with the usual bucket of ice cold water thrown on her head, barely having a moment to adjust to consciousness as they shouted at her to move and drag her to whatever kind of torture they wanted to expel on her.   

Today she was dragged to the doctor’s office, though she didn’t know that until she was pulled up off the floor and thrown onto the hard-cold metal bed to wait.  She kept her eyes on the ground, her mind blank blocking out the pain from her still open gashes. 

‘Alexa, 12 years, don’t you wish you’d just wish you’d get that band already?’ The doctor asked as he walked in holding her file. 

She internally cringed at his words, though she refused to look up and see that evil look that was surely in his eyes.  He like everyone else in society, believed that all criminals, should die off as soon as possible, though they would not kill criminals themselves, waiting for the soulsickness to get them instead.  The only time rejection was called for in society was to rid them of the criminals.

’24 and still no mark.’  The doctor commented as he pressed different needles into her, extracting blood, injecting things making her dizzy and nauseous. 

Something clicked in her head.  It must be March if he was talking to her about marks and soulmates.  Every year on the 1st of May there was the coming of age ceremony held in every city in the world, where those who got their marks in the previous months, would be invited to attend and meet their soulmates.  Only high-profile people would attend, it was impossible to show everyone after all, but the world delighted in the occasion.

During the ceremony, those between 16-25 would drink a second serum so their marks burnt bright red revealing their soulmark which was scanned to show who their soulmates were.  It was the most anticipated time of the year, everyone got excited to get their mark and meet their soulmates.  Holding parties when it appeared, and they came of age.  Hardly anyone ever got rejected, everyone was too excited at the prospect of living a blissful life together to even consider rejecting their soulmate.

Alexa was not one of these people.  As soon as she got her mark and met her soulmate they would reject her, give her soulsickness and die.  That was what society wanted.  It was common knowledge that no one who had soulsickness ever lived longer than two years.  This was the reason her grandfather was a criminal; he cheated on her grandmother, gave her soulsickness and once he was found out they were all incarcerated.  Her mother died first, her father rejecting her as soon as she was found to be a criminal, and then her brother and sister when they came of age both died within just 12 months of being rejected.  The last time she was allowed contact with her sister, just before she died, she told her of the pain she felt in her heart.  As soon as she looked at her soulmate they rejected her, and her heart stung, like a poisonous ray had jabbed at her soul and every breath became an eternal struggle. 

Alexa knew what was coming, she would be rejected, she would die the same painful death as her mother, brother and sister before her.  In some ways she begged for it, she wanted death over this torturous life she was forced to lead.  The peace of death seemed like a sweet daydream in comparison. 

A burn at her wrist brought her back to reality, looking down, a black band indicated her soulmark had appeared where previously there were only scars. 

‘I see you have two years left to live.’  The doctor smirked as he took in the band around her very scrawny wrist. 

Before long she was heaved back to her cell, thrown onto the excuse for a mattress and a plate of gruel was left by the door for her.  Ravenously, she swallowed the disgusting food quickly before it was taken away from her as she caught sight of the black band on her wrist for the first real time.  She slipped down on her mattress, letting the bowl of gruel drop, she fought back her tears.  Ever since she was young she had watched couples holding hands, kissing each other, looking at each other with love hearts in their eyes.  She dreamed of one day being that in love, having her soulmate look into her eyes with kindness and her fingers through their hair.

That dream was long gone.  Averting her eyes from the band, it was just a reminder of the fact she would be rejected, her time was up, and she would soon die.  After all, no one loved a criminal, ever. 

For the next few weeks, the guards didn’t whip her, the wounds began to heal and scar, but this was not a good thing.  The tolerance she had built up to the lashings was disappearing and she knew as soon as they started again it would be agony.  In her 12 years in prison, the guards sometimes did this just to mess with her.  At first, she was grateful, she thought her torture had stopped until they started up fresh again, more excruciating than ever before.  Still forced awake with water or kicks to her ribs, the guards had begun to take her to the yard to dig holes