Skyfall
~Two~
“Are you sure?” the old man asked his son. “Only one, remember.”
“This one,” the son repeated, and I fought to keep any emotion from my face.
The Salesman clapped his hands together triumphantly, unable to keep the smile off of his greasy face.
“Fantastic! I’ll draw up the forms.” He hurried off, almost jogging to get the forms before I could do something to change the buyer’s mind.
The son pressed his hand against the glass, leaving a hand print.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, his breath fogging up the glass.
I ignored him; too busy focussing on my feeling of despair.
I’d been so close! Two more days and I would’ve been able to memorise the access code to the quarters. My plan was to steal one of the laundry trucks and drive... well... drive anywhere but here. Drive until it ran out of fuel and then go on foot. Maybe find some work in a far off city, change my name, my face, until Alexa Seris no longer existed.
And now this.
But, I thought suddenly, maybe it would be easier to escape from a noble house. It has to be better than here, anyway.
My heart lifted, but I didn’t let them see that. The Salesman had returned, carrying a gilded clipboard and fountain pen. The old man signed something with quick, smooth movements. I wondered how much my selling price was.
The Salesman approached the son with a large, golden key. My heart seemed to be gripped in a vice as I realised it was the key to my door.
I can’t really explain my next action.
I leapt for the door, and for a split second I saw something cross the son’s face; he thought I was lunging to be let out. I grabbed a hold of the doorknob on the inside of the case. though it was locked 24/7. Some buyers liked to have us unlock it ourselves and walk out to them as though they were our saviours.
In this case, I was hanging on to the doorknob so that he couldn’t turn it. It was a very childish move, but I’d already made up my mind to cause them as much grief as I could.
I looked up into the son’s eyes, grey to blue. He was confused. He lifted the key as though showing me that he could let me out. I met his gaze steadily, both hands gripping the doorknob. And slowly, I shook my head.
The Salesman stepped forward, furious at my lack of decorum. He lifted a remote and I tensed, waiting for the sharp shock to knock me to the ground.
“Hold it,” one of the other Salesmen, a large fellow, strode forwards carrying a hammer. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now.”
I didn’t let go of the doorknob as he stepped up to my showcase. The son stepped back apprehensively, still holding the golden key aloft.
The large Salesman swung the hammer at my case. The glass splintered into a thousand pieces, showering around me. I gasped in pain as several slivers slit my bare skin, still holding the ornate doorknob. Cold air rushed in, my skin rippling with goose bumps. I backed to the back of my case, limping as my injured foot hit the cold stone. The metal door slid open behind me, and the Watchman behind it activated the electricity rod that I had learned to fear.
I froze, indecision scrawled across my features. Broken glass or electrocution?
I was saved by the large Salesman crunching across the glass and picking me up, slinging me over his shoulder. I bit my lip so I didn’t cry out as his suit grazed the lacerations on my skin.
“Don’t want to damage her too much,” he explained to the old man. The son followed us, still carrying the key. “Shall I carry her out for you?”
I closed my eyes as he carried me out of the lush sales room clad in red velvet and gold silk. The pressure of his shoulder on my stomach made it difficult to breath, so I concentrated on pulling long breaths through my nose. I didn’t bother being sentimental about leaving; the other women were replaced every week by sales, so I hadn’t made any friends – not that I’d wanted to.
The Salesman lowered me to the ground, and I reluctantly limped to the luxury car that was waiting. Just before I climbed in, I was stopped by the Salesman’s words to the old man who’d just bought me.
“In case she gets rowdy. I’m not saying she will, but our client’s safety is the most important thing to us.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him hand the old man a shining set of handcuffs.
In all of my time being in the sales room, I’d never been cuffed. Icy fear scuttled through my veins.
“Here,” the son was holding a robe out to me. I looked up at him, raising my eyebrow quizzically. “I thought you might be cold,” he explained, and held out the robe again.
I took it from him without thanking him, slipping it around my shoulders. It, like my underwear, was silk, offering little protection from the icy wind that rattled past, carrying the smells and sounds of the city bustling around us.
I ducked my head, climbing into the shining black car. I slid onto the leather upholstery, taking in my surroundings; the wood grain dashboard, the suited driver, the small mini bar with mineral water beside me. The son sat in next to me, sitting one seat over. After a few minutes, the old man climbed into the front seat and we were off.
“This one,” the son repeated, and I fought to keep any emotion from my face.
The Salesman clapped his hands together triumphantly, unable to keep the smile off of his greasy face.
“Fantastic! I’ll draw up the forms.” He hurried off, almost jogging to get the forms before I could do something to change the buyer’s mind.
The son pressed his hand against the glass, leaving a hand print.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, his breath fogging up the glass.
I ignored him; too busy focussing on my feeling of despair.
I’d been so close! Two more days and I would’ve been able to memorise the access code to the quarters. My plan was to steal one of the laundry trucks and drive... well... drive anywhere but here. Drive until it ran out of fuel and then go on foot. Maybe find some work in a far off city, change my name, my face, until Alexa Seris no longer existed.
And now this.
But, I thought suddenly, maybe it would be easier to escape from a noble house. It has to be better than here, anyway.
My heart lifted, but I didn’t let them see that. The Salesman had returned, carrying a gilded clipboard and fountain pen. The old man signed something with quick, smooth movements. I wondered how much my selling price was.
The Salesman approached the son with a large, golden key. My heart seemed to be gripped in a vice as I realised it was the key to my door.
I can’t really explain my next action.
I leapt for the door, and for a split second I saw something cross the son’s face; he thought I was lunging to be let out. I grabbed a hold of the doorknob on the inside of the case. though it was locked 24/7. Some buyers liked to have us unlock it ourselves and walk out to them as though they were our saviours.
In this case, I was hanging on to the doorknob so that he couldn’t turn it. It was a very childish move, but I’d already made up my mind to cause them as much grief as I could.
I looked up into the son’s eyes, grey to blue. He was confused. He lifted the key as though showing me that he could let me out. I met his gaze steadily, both hands gripping the doorknob. And slowly, I shook my head.
The Salesman stepped forward, furious at my lack of decorum. He lifted a remote and I tensed, waiting for the sharp shock to knock me to the ground.
“Hold it,” one of the other Salesmen, a large fellow, strode forwards carrying a hammer. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now.”
I didn’t let go of the doorknob as he stepped up to my showcase. The son stepped back apprehensively, still holding the golden key aloft.
The large Salesman swung the hammer at my case. The glass splintered into a thousand pieces, showering around me. I gasped in pain as several slivers slit my bare skin, still holding the ornate doorknob. Cold air rushed in, my skin rippling with goose bumps. I backed to the back of my case, limping as my injured foot hit the cold stone. The metal door slid open behind me, and the Watchman behind it activated the electricity rod that I had learned to fear.
I froze, indecision scrawled across my features. Broken glass or electrocution?
I was saved by the large Salesman crunching across the glass and picking me up, slinging me over his shoulder. I bit my lip so I didn’t cry out as his suit grazed the lacerations on my skin.
“Don’t want to damage her too much,” he explained to the old man. The son followed us, still carrying the key. “Shall I carry her out for you?”
I closed my eyes as he carried me out of the lush sales room clad in red velvet and gold silk. The pressure of his shoulder on my stomach made it difficult to breath, so I concentrated on pulling long breaths through my nose. I didn’t bother being sentimental about leaving; the other women were replaced every week by sales, so I hadn’t made any friends – not that I’d wanted to.
The Salesman lowered me to the ground, and I reluctantly limped to the luxury car that was waiting. Just before I climbed in, I was stopped by the Salesman’s words to the old man who’d just bought me.
“In case she gets rowdy. I’m not saying she will, but our client’s safety is the most important thing to us.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him hand the old man a shining set of handcuffs.
In all of my time being in the sales room, I’d never been cuffed. Icy fear scuttled through my veins.
“Here,” the son was holding a robe out to me. I looked up at him, raising my eyebrow quizzically. “I thought you might be cold,” he explained, and held out the robe again.
I took it from him without thanking him, slipping it around my shoulders. It, like my underwear, was silk, offering little protection from the icy wind that rattled past, carrying the smells and sounds of the city bustling around us.
I ducked my head, climbing into the shining black car. I slid onto the leather upholstery, taking in my surroundings; the wood grain dashboard, the suited driver, the small mini bar with mineral water beside me. The son sat in next to me, sitting one seat over. After a few minutes, the old man climbed into the front seat and we were off.