[dismemberment]

Mary and Cindy stood in the dimly lit registration hall of the Harvest Lottery Center, their hearts pounding as the massive screen flashed the results. 'Losers: Mary Thompson, Cindy Reyes.' The words burned into their retinas. A huge cash prize dangled for winners, but for them, it meant the chop. They turned to each other, eyes wide with shared dread, then sighed deeply, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fuck it," Mary muttered, pulling out her phone. "Might as well call the families now. Tell them to swing by after we're... processed." Cindy nodded, her fingers trembling as she dialed her husband. 'Hey, babe, we lost the lottery. Come pick me up from the center in about an hour. Yeah, you know what that means.' Mary's call to her brother was the same—short, resigned, laced with the unspoken horror.

They shuffled toward the harvesting room, a sterile chamber buzzing with low murmurs and the sharp tang of antiseptic. Inside, a dozen other women milled about, some chatting nervously, others already peeling off clothes. Mary and Cindy stripped naked without a word, their bodies exposed under the harsh fluorescent lights—Mary's curvy frame with full hips, Cindy's leaner build with pert tits. They handed their purses and phones to a bored attendant behind a plexiglass counter. "Booth 7," he grunted, barely glancing up.

The booth loomed like a coffin of steel and glass, doors hissing open. They stepped in side by side, backs pressed against the cold restraints that snapped around their torsos. A robotic voice droned: "Harvesting commencing. Remain still. Duration: under five minutes."

Blades whirred to life first at their shoulders. Mary's arms jerked as diamond-tipped saws bit into flesh, slicing through muscle and bone with a wet screech. Blood sprayed in arcs, her screams ripping out: "You fucking bastards! Aaaargh!" The left arm thudded to the grated floor, severed clean at the shoulder joint, stump gushing crimson. Cindy's right arm followed, the saw grinding through humerus, tendons snapping like guitar strings. "Shit! Motherfucking shit!" she howled, her face contorting as the left went next, pain exploding in white-hot waves.

Legs next—no mercy. From their hips down, the blades descended. Mary's thighs quivered as the saw carved into her femurs, bone dust flying, flesh parting in ragged flaps. "Goddamn it, stop! Fuuuuck!" Her legs crumpled away, knees and calves hitting the floor in a bloody pile, femoral arteries spurting. Cindy's screams overlapped, "Cocksuckers! You goddamn cocksuckers!" as her legs were hacked off at the pelvis, hips bucking involuntarily, pooling blood slicking the booth floor.

Barely two minutes in, and they were limbless torsos, writhing against the straps. The booth's manipulators shifted lower. Scalpels extended, carving into their asses. Mary's plump globes were gripped by clamps, skin stretched taut before blades sliced deep, peeling the meaty cheeks away in thick slabs. Fat and muscle tore free with sucking pops, exposing the pelvic bone beneath. "Arrrgh! My fucking ass! You pigs!" she bellowed, agony lancing through her core. Cindy's firmer cheeks met the same fate—knives flaying them off layer by layer, blood sheeting down her thighs' stumps. "Fuuuck you! Bastard machines!" she spat through gritted teeth.

Final phase: breasts. Suction cups latched onto Mary's heavy tits, yanking them forward as circular saws encircled the bases. The blades spun, chewing through glandular tissue and pectorals, milk ducts bursting in sprays. Her breasts flopped free, nipples still erect from shock, hitting the floor with wet slaps. "Nooo! My tits! You motherfucking whores!" Cindy’s smaller mounds were guillotined next, areolas parting from skin in precise cuts, lobules dangling before dropping. "Shitshitshit! Fuck this lottery!" she raged, voice hoarse.

The doors hissed open at 4:52. Attendants in blood-spattered gowns hosed them down roughly, then lifted their mutilated torsos—mere trunks of quivering flesh, stumps cauterized to stem the worst bleeding—onto padded chairs in the waiting area. Mary and Cindy panted like broken animals, chests heaving, faces pale and sweat-slicked. Their wallets and phones clattered onto the side tables, screens lighting up with incoming calls they couldn't reach.

Around them, other limbless women slumped in similar chairs, some moaning softly, others staring blankly at the ceiling. The air reeked of copper and regret.

Mary turned her head toward Cindy, stumps twitching uselessly. "We should've never signed up for this shit. What a goddamn mistake."

Cindy wheezed a laugh through the pain. "Yeah... what do you think our families will say when they see us like this? 'Hey, thanks for the show, cripples?' Fuck... I just want to go home."

They sat in silence, regretting every desperate moment that led them here, wondering if their loved ones would even look at them the same after hauling home these carved-up husks.