Whispering Dead and My Unborn Child

Summary

One hundred days. That’s how long I’d been rotting in this digital graveyard—a forced-labor compound hidden in the lawless jungles of Southeast Asia. And today, in the middle of the humid, suffocating heat, I realized I was carrying the devil’s child.

The "devil" was the man running this hellhole.

Things had gone from bad to worse. My sales numbers had been at the bottom of the leaderboard for three days straight. As punishment, they’d used the whips, then the cattle prods, and finally, they’d tossed me into the "Grave"—the water cell—like a piece of discarded trash, waiting for the organ…