Slave to Destiny

The slave auction house was a less than pleasant place. Roland and I had long sense been separated. The only hope I had of us ending up in the same house was my faith in The Night Mother. She would play a role in this auction, I prayed. Upon my arrival I’d been tossed into a filthy bug infested bathroom, and locked inside. The walls were caked with dirt and a deep red substance I suspected to be blood. The sink water was slightly murky. A dress hung up on the hook of one of the walls with a single note taped to it.

<i>We request that you prepare for the auction. Please wash up, and put on this dress. Be ready in ten minutes.</i>

Why did they expect slaves to able to read? Idiots.

My shower lasted all of a minute and a half before the icy cold water shut off on its own. The rest of my ten minutes were spent trying to detangle the matted mass of hair. The brush was made up of uneven metal bristles. I thought it was either going to split my scalp up or rip my hair out. The dress was a bright pink, and was far to loose for my slender frame. There were a few rips along the seam, but it was a step up from the rags I’d been wearing.

Ten minutes after I read the note the door swung open revealing a man. He was dressed in a lavish black suit with a top hat and blood red tie. He was pale and his eyes were a pale scarlet color indicating he was very hungry. “Come with me girly,” he snapped at me grabbing my wrist.

He jerked me along a dimly lit corridor showing little sympathy. I could hear the low hum of hundreds of voices all talking at once. My stomach was twisted and nodded from intense hunger. The only water I’d had in the last couple days was the water I’d forced myself to drink from the bathroom sink. The itchy pink dress that I was wearing was probably the closest to looking like a princess many of these slaves would ever get, but not I. It was degrading to see how far I’d fallen in a few short days.

The man dragged me through a swinging door. On the other side of the door I was surprised to see a stage with a vampire clutching a microphone on it. The man promptly pushed me on to the stage. I stumbled slightly barely catching my balance. “This lovely lady was caught early this morning in the woods. As you can see she is in fact a mutt with a fully functional collar. Her number is 2-1-8-3-1-18.”

My mind tried to calculate what the number stood for. My tudor, Sir Andrews, had informed me of how auction houses worked, but I had forgotten. It never occurred to me that the knowledge might be useful. “Let’s start the bid at two thousand!” the vampire barked at the crowd. I couldn’t see what was going on as I stood there with as much confidence I could muster. The lights were so bright they were blinding. The only thing that gave me any indication of what was going on was the vampire upping the bid.

“Three thousand!”

“Four thousand!”

The vampire barked into the microphone on stage. Then I heard it. A deep overpowering voice rang out from the back of the room, “Ten thousand!” The man sounded so sure of himself as if daring anybody to deny his wishes. From what I could guess he was perfect. He must be important considering the entire room went silent.

“Sold,” the vampire muttered into the microphone, “You know where to pick up your new property.” It was official I was only worth ten thousand dollars.

Everything became very disoriented as I was once again jerked off the stage, and dragged to another location. My vision was blurry, and I just couldn’t quite catch bearings. Before I even knew what was going on I was shoved to the floor, and I heard the clatter of metal against metal. Glancing around I realized I was in a cell with a few other slaves.

Two girls sat leaning up against the back of the cage. They were both around my age, and judging by their lack of collar, they were human. It was rather pathetic that bloodsuckers had stoop as low as bringing humans into our world. Of course then again they did need them to survive. The least they could do is come up with a better and more humane way of handling them.

One of the girls had short blond hair, light blue eyes with little emotion, and a pale face. She looked malnourished. “You’re new aren’t you?” she asked in a nonchalant voice. Something told me she really didn’t care to say the least. I nodded. “Well you most certainly are an unlucky one,” she told me laughing bitterly.

Suddenly I became very alarmed by my situation. “What do you mean? Who bought me?” I asked in a rush. The possibilities of what I just stumbled upon. What if he is a pervert? What if he is abusive? What if he doesn’t feed us?

The girl grinned a sickening disgusting smile and said, “You have officially been purchased by Master Corban and Mistress Abigail, better known as The Stewards of the vampire throne. Be prepared to be whisked away to a castle that belongs in a fairy tale. Well that is if you read The Grim Brothers fairy tales.” The news pleased me in many ways. What better way to defeat the bloodsuckers than to put myself in the center of their castle. I could come up with a plan. I could steal their little King. I could take everything they took from me back. Something told me it wasn’t going to be this easy though.

“Slaves get out!” an icy cold voice barked at us. As I stared at the vampire it tore me up inside to realize that he was the one that destroyed my entire life. I hate him.