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The stifling air of the marketplace was thick with the smell of sweat, dust, and the pungent scent of human fear. Selene stood at the center of the auction block, her chest tightening with every passing second. The oppressive heat clung to her skin, and the weight of countless eyes upon her was suffocating.
A collective murmur rose from the crowd—a sea of faces that seemed distant, like a blur of distorted shapes and shadows. She could feel their eyes tearing through her, assessing, judging, but she refused to meet their gaze, she dont know what will happen the next moment. There was no dignity in this moment.
The weight of the crowd's gaze pressed down on her, cold and unforgiving. Each person seemed to measure her, to dissect her very being with their eyes, and Selene's pulse quickened under their scrutiny. She refused to meet their stares, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground in front of her.
If she looked up, if she allowed herself to truly see their faces, she feared what she might find in their eyes—greed, contempt, perhaps even amusement. But no matter what, she couldn't bear to witness her worth being reduced to nothing more than an object for their entertainment.
Her heart hammered in her chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the uncertainty spiraling through her mind. What would happen to her now? What would they do? Every scenario she could conjure seemed worse than the last.
She tried to hold on to some semblance of control, but she was slipping. She was nothing but a thing to be bought, to be owned. The auctioneer's cruel words echoed in her ears, but nothing felt real anymore.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat and fear, her own and everyone else's.
Would they treat her kindly? Would they be gentle? She could hardly dare to hope. Every time she allowed herself to entertain the thought of kindness, the stories she'd heard about the world beyond this place flooded her mind.
Stories of women sold to rich lords, only to be abused, their dignity stripped away like old clothes. The rich and powerful, they played with their slaves as though they were toys, breaking them with cruel punishments, using them for their own twisted pleasures. But it was the vampires she feared most.
She had heard the stories. Heard the whispered conversations in dark corners. How vampires were known for their cruelty, their unpredictability. They did not treat humans as equals, nor even as beings worthy of compassion.
To them, humans were nothing more than food, to be discarded once drained of value. They had an insatiable hunger, not just for blood, but for control, for dominance, for pain.
Rumors ran wild about their dark appetites, how they reveled in the suffering of others, how their twisted pleasures were intertwined with human misery.
The thought of one of them buying her made her stomach turn. She had heard of the vampire lords who enjoyed tormenting their human servants.
Of those who took pleasure in the fear and desperation in their eyes, in the way they broke their spirits and crushed their wills with every glance, every command. Some even took their slaves to their private chambers, using them for amusement until they were no longer of any use.
The more she thought about it, the more her throat tightened, her breaths shallow.
They can do whatever they want and however they want, none will question the vampires because of The King. The stories of the Vampire King were worse than any nightmare. It was said that he had a taste for human blood, a thirst so deep it could never be sated. But that wasn't the worst of it.
No, the worst part was the way he treated those who came into his service. The whispers spoke of his insatiable need to control, to dominate, to own everything he touched. And once someone belonged to him, they were his forever. There was no escape from his clutches.
Her mind raced with the possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. But no matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered, like shadows in the corners of her mind.
Every fiber of her being screamed in protest. She couldn't endure that. Not like this. Not in front of all these people.
But the auction continued, relentless, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Each call of a higher bid felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating her with its inevitability. She had no say in what happened next. She was powerless.
Her wrists were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her skin with each subtle movement.
A strip of cloth, rough against her lips, kept her from speaking, from even breathing the words that clawed at her throat. What could she say? What words could change the fate that had already been sealed?
Sold.
The weight of Selene's past clung to her like a suffocating shroud, each breath she took an aching reminder of everything she had lost. Her family's debt had shackled her to this fate, and it felt like the final chapter in a cruel, unrelenting story.
The moment her uncle had traded her for a handful of silver coins, everything she had ever known had been stolen from her—her identity, her sense of worth, her place in the world. She had once been the cherished daughter of a father who loved her with all his might, a father who had done everything in his power to give her a life filled with love and care, despite the hardships they faced.
After her mother's untimely death, it had been her father alone who raised her, and though he had nothing to offer in the way of riches, he had given her everything a child could ask for: warmth, attention, and an unshakable belief in her value.
But that was before he was taken from her too. His sudden death had left her vulnerable, lost, and at the mercy of those who had never cared for her.
Her relatives had seen her as nothing more than an inconvenience—an extra mouth to feed, a burden they were unwilling to bear. The realization had come slowly, creeping into her life like a shadow she could no longer escape.
They had no intention of keeping her, of offering any love or protection. They were selfish, heartless, and driven by their own greed. Her uncle's decision to sell her into slavery had been nothing but a business transaction to him. To him, she was simply a means to an end, a way to rid himself of an unwanted responsibility.
The truth had been impossible to ignore once it had been revealed, and it hit her harder than anything she could have imagined. The betrayal stung, but what was worse was the brutal reality that came with it.
She had once been a person with hopes and dreams, but now she was reduced to a mere object, a piece of property, something to be bought and sold as others saw fit. And worse still, she had no say in it. No control. No future.
The last two days had been nothing short of hell on earth. The conditions were worse than anything she had ever endured. Starvation gnawed at her insides, and she could feel her strength waning with every hour that passed.
Water, when it was provided, was scarce and bitter, barely enough to keep her from collapsing. They were treated like animals, her and the other slaves, locked in a cage of misery and despair. The cold weather beat down on them even during the day, and at night it was worse, the cold air seeped into their bones with thin clothes.
There was no kindness here. No mercy. Just the grinding, unrelenting reality of being nothing more than a commodity.
The other slaves were no better off. The girls—most of them between the ages of fourteen and nineteen—were thin, their faces hollow with fear and hunger. Some were barely older than children, their innocence already stripped away by the harshness of the world they now found themselves in.
The boys, too, were little more than shadows of their former selves, their faces pale and gaunt from hunger, their eyes wide with terror as they tried to comprehend the horror they were now trapped in.
One of the boys, no more than twelve years old, had caught Selene's eye. His thin frame trembled as he clutched onto the bars of the cage they were kept in, his face streaked with dirt and tears.
She couldn't bear to look at him, for it reminded her of the life she had once known, of the innocence that was now lost to her forever.
But it was the fear for their lives that gripped her heart. They were all at the mercy of the buyers, at the mercy of those who would see them as nothing more than objects to be owned. She had heard the stories—rumors, whispers in the dark.
Slaves didn't live long in these places. Some were bought for the pleasure of their masters, used and discarded when they had no more value. Others were forced to labor until their bodies broke down, only to be replaced when they were no longer useful. There was no escape.
There was no hope. They were trapped in a world where their lives meant nothing.
And Selene feared for them all. She feared for herself, yes, but more than that, she feared for the others who had been thrown into this nightmare with her.
They were just children, caught in the twisted web of greed and cruelty spun by those who saw them as mere tools for their own pleasure and profit. The lives of slaves were brutal and unforgiving, far worse than any fate she could have imagined.
The thought of what might await her in the coming days was enough to make her stomach turn. But there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she had now was the desperate hope that somehow, someway, she could survive this, that the darkness of her past wouldn't swallow her whole.
But in the pit of her soul, she knew the truth—she was already lost. The world had stripped her of everything she had known, and now all that remained was the cold, indifferent hand of fate, ready to crush her beneath its weight.
The auctioneer—a man with the sharp, calculating eyes of someone who had long since lost his soul—stood at the front of the stage. His face bore no empathy, no remorse for what he did.
He was only concerned with the wealth that would line his pockets. With a wave of his gavel, he silenced the crowd, signaling the beginning of the auction.
"Next up," his voice boomed, sharp and authoritative, "a rare one. Human. Young. Unbroken. Untouched. You won't find one like her again, not in this forsaken kingdom."
The word unbroken struck her like a blade. Was that what she was? Had they truly taken everything from her? Her pride, her dignity, her will—had they already been broken beyond repair?
Selene took a shuddering breath, forcing herself to swallow down the panic that threatened to surge. She had no choice but to obey, to play the role that had been thrust upon her. The auctioneer's eyes flicked to her, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
"Step forward, girl. Let them see what they're buying."
She moved, but the movement was slow, hesitant—like a marionette whose strings had been pulled too tight. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, but she forced herself to move.
Each step was heavier than the last. The sound of her bare feet meeting the wooden platform was muffled by the noise of the crowd, a blur of voices rising around her, their words lost in the chaos.
As she reached the edge of the block, Selene lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the dirt beneath her feet. She refused to look at their faces. She couldn't bear the pity in their eyes, the way they saw her as nothing more than a prize to be claimed.
She could feel her whole world slipping away from her, the future she had imagined reduced to this: a price tag. An object of exchange.
"Five hundred gold!" a voice rang out from the crowd, the offer low but firm.
Selene's heart skipped a beat. Was that all she was worth? The thought stung, but she forced herself to remain still. Five hundred gold. Could she escape this nightmare with that much? Would it be enough to give her a chance? A brief flicker of hope sparked, but it was quickly extinguished by the next voice.
"Seven hundred!" It came from a man in the front, his voice powerful, authoritative—one that made her skin crawl with its commanding tone.
His bid was almost casual, as if Selene were a mere object, to be fought over and acquired without a second thought. She felt a tremor of dread course through her, the realization sinking in: this wasn't just a transaction; she was being torn apart in front of their eyes.
The bidding continued, climbing higher with each passing moment, but Selene couldn't focus on the numbers anymore.
She could barely hear them, the voices of the crowd becoming a dull hum, their words slipping past her like water over smooth stone. Her mind raced, her heart pounding against her ribs. What if there was no way out?
What if no one would save her?
But then, a voice sliced through the chaos, its coldness like ice. A voice so commanding, so dark, that it froze the air itself.
"Five thousand."
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