[ WP ] In this world , everything is determined by the number floating over your head . Everything . And when numbers ahead of you die or get killed , yours moves closer to the coveted position of # 1 . You 're number 22 . For now .

Death in God ’ s harem was quick and commonplace. My life had been flipped upside down since I was taken several years ago. I don ’ t know what they were, demons, spirits, or aliens. All I know is they ruled our world from the shadows. They were brutal and instigated most of our problems, stomping on anyone who achieved too much, or stepped too close to the truth. 
 
 I was taken for my artistic abilities, others for their intelligence, charisma, or strength. One thing was common however. Male or female, we were all beautiful. The creature that owned us called itself God, a word it used to mock the faith of those who believed. I felt a bright light fill my vision. Instinctively I closed my eyes, to no avail. The light invaded anything and just as suddenly, it left. 
 
 22, the number floated above my head. It represented God ’ s favor, how much he enjoyed us. Thousands lived inside this sprawling underground complex, and their power and position was decided from the whim of a volatile invader. My number had been 24 just moments ago. Two people had lost God ’ s favor, and their lives. 
 
 The numbers represented our hierarchy in this world. Single digits were given vast amounts of power. They lived comfortable pampered lives, and could toy with the others as they would. They could even request for new acquisitions. It was said that God allowed # 1 a single wish, within reasonable boundaries. 
 
 “ 22, come here. ” A voice pierced the darkness of my studio. A young Norwegian woman stepped from behind a curtain, and pulled off her headdress revealing a bright twinkling 3 where a 5 had been just a day before. 
 
 “ Now that I ’ m 3rd, I ’ m entitled to suites and servants to keep them. You ’ re my maid now. ” 3 walked up to me, slowly. She wore a red and black silk dress that shifted as she walked, emphasizing her perfect body. I bit my lip to quench my anxiety, and looked at her long booted legs. She had been captured on the same day as me and given numbers in the thousands, yet she had risen so incredibly fast. 
 
 We had been lovers outside, but the harem had changed her. She had grown cold, distant, worshipping God wholeheartedly. She had turned cruel, plotting and hurting any she could. She had grown to hate our former relationship, or at least had grown to love beating and humiliating me. 
 
 “ As you wish, 3, ” I said as I lowered my head. 
 
 “ Look me in the eye, ” she ordered as she placed a hand on my cheek and lifted my face. Her cold blue eyes sliced into mine, beautiful yet emotionless. For a second I felt her eyes flash, and the old warmth seep through. Then her face softened as she smiled the same dazzling smile I remembered as my heart leaped out of my chest. 
 
 “ Jessica. Don ’ t worry. Once I get to First…, ” and then the warmth was gone. She raised her left hand and slapped my face hard before pushing me away and scattering my artworks over the studio floor. Days of work, ruined. I was to present them for God ’ s celebration at the end of the week. I sobbed as I collapsed on the floor. 
 
 “ Do you know why 3 and 4 were killed? ” 3 asked me as she walked toward the door. 
 
 “ No, 3rd why? ” I gasped out. 
 
 “ They loved each other more than God. ” 

