When they had told us they would let us live if we made it into any of the portals, we had believed them. But…
This isn't living.
It's been weeks_maybe months, since the destruction of the world I knew and grew up on.
Weeks_or months since we made it into this wretched world. At least to us, it was wretched.
Not many children survived the destruction. Anyone within the ages of 0-17 is considered a child in this world. So those of them who made it here are adopted by rich people and made househelps, servants, or errandboys.
From the ages of 18, you are considered an adult in this place. And our lives are hell.
I have seen only one elderly person from my world in this place, and he is made to scrub, clean and polish.
We are made to work in a circus… At least, they call it a circus. In actuality, it is merely a form of putting us up for review and sales.
The young men are forced to serve women, mostly widowed women_sexually.
The young ladies are no different, they are forced to serve young and old, any man who is interested at all.
We are nothing but spoils of war, and we are treated no better than slaves.
From what I've heard, there are different divisions in different places. The portals we came in through, had sent everyone to different places. So each division master has the right to do as he sees fit with the people he gets.
I've heard that some divisions are treated better than this. I've heard that in some divisions, they are just made to work on farms, and are fed their work's worth. Some are even paid.
Skye and I just happened to fall in this devilish division. I just hope and pray that my brothers and mother made it to a better division. And Kira, I have hope that she made it, and she is also in a better division too.
After every circus performance, an announcement is made to inform the audience who wishes to be served sexually to stay behind, and the rest are to leave.
From the beginning of the circus performance, all audience members are to wear masks, keeping their identity a secret.
So when the audience has been settled, we the performers are lined up on stage with number tags around our necks.
Then the trading stage begins.
The audience begins to choose which and which person they desire. Any interested client has the right to ask to see the goods before he/she agrees to pay for it.
It is disgusting_revolting. They'd strip the person right there on the stage, all eyes looking at them.
But what can we do? We are but a few in a new world, a world I am yet to see.
Maybe it is luck, or maybe it is a miracle. Maybe it is fate, but neither Skye nor I has ever had to go through the embarrassment of being picked, more or less serving someone. And we are both grateful for this, even though we know that it is inevitable.
I know it is only a matter of time before one bastard finds either of us appealing to his eye. And that's why I always carry a rusted steel-pen on me. I'll carve out their eyes before they lay a hand on either of us.
Just like any other day, it is another day of circus madness. But something seems a bit weird about the circus master today. He seems rather agitated, and worried.
More than ever, he's making more and more preparations, making sure we are getting every act and scene right. He seems to be preparing our play for someone in particular. And from the way he's panicking, it has to be someone really high up.
Soon enough, another round of circus display is completed, the masked audience has been shuffled.
Now_now, we are lined up on the high stage, with our numbering tags around our necks like leashes.
Quietly, we wait for the madness to begin.
"W_welcome once again," he stutters. I have never heard the man stutter up until today. His voice is always harsh, loud and firm. But from the announcement of our first act, up until now, this same man has not said a full sentence without a stutter.
"Now it is no_no news why we are all s_seated here," he continues. And even five feet away from me, I can still see the sweat that trails from the side of his head, down to his neck.
"S_so, without further delay, let the selection b_begin." he announces. And at that moment, I notice his head lift up slightly, and he seems to give a quick, sharp bow before he shifts to the side of the stage.
Inquisitively, my eyes turn to the direction of which he had looked, and I notice something_ a silhouette_ two silhouettes_ two men.
I squint my eyes…
In the dark, in the shadows, seated high up. I have never seen anyone sitting at that corner before. Or maybe I just never noticed, but someone_ones, were there right now, looking down at us. And the lights do not reach that part of the arena, only little flickers, insignificant rays of light pass, and I can swear both men are also wearing masks.
I don't understand it, but I can feel a certain aura coming from up there. It almost seems corruptive. And worse of it all, they seem to be staring directly in my direction. I know at once that these people are the ones that the circus master has been preparing so hurriedly for.
"I want number seventeen!" A voice jerks me back to the matter at hand. It is a woman who has spoken. She's wearing a black half-faced mask, but I can still tell from the sound of her voice and the color of her lips that she's young. Probably just in her early thirties.
"Do you wish to see what you will be getting?" The female assistant of the circus master, Genna, asks.
If the black mask lady says yes, there were men around to strip number seventeen if he refuses to do so himself.
"No, I do not." The lady plainly states and instantly rises to her feet.
"Very well then, just go on through that door, and an agreement will be made on location and time." Genna points, and the lady follows in the direction. "Number seventeen is off the market for tonight, shall we continue." at her words, number seventeen who is probably around my age is escorted out of the stage.
After that, more and more selections are made. I look on in hope that tonight will go by just like any other night. And that myself and Skye will be safe once again.
But then…
I see someone walk up to the circus master and whispers something in his ear, and for whatever reason, the circus master seems to be looking my way. Looking towards me and Skye.
My heart's racing, my breathing is going faster, my eyes are going wider and my palms are moist from sweat. I knew this day was bound to come but…
"Number twelve, a client will like to see the goods." the circus master says, "Strip." my heart jumps. Number twelve_she's standing right beside me, trembling, fearing_ she's my best friend.
Number twelve is Skye.