The carriage finally stopped in front of a foreboding building after hours of riding. Dark clouds covered the already setting sun, casting a dark shadow over the building. Theresa's heart raced as she gazed up at the structure, her mind filled with dread. This was where slaves were brought to, a place where people were treated like animals.
Located in the middle of nowhere the building seemed isolated from the rest of the world, designed to strip people of their last shred of hope. A blood-curdling scream echoed from within the building's thick walls and Theresa's head snapped towards the sound, her face turning pale.
The man beside her smiled, a smile not quite reaching his eyes which met hers. . "Don't worry, you will be handled carefully." He stepped down from the carriage and waited for her to follow suit.
As Theresa approached the building, she caught sight of other people nearby. Some bearing scars on their skin, others looking like they had just been brought from their respective towns. The looks of dread on their faces mirrored her own feelings. Would any of them ever walk out of this place, free to resume their former lives?
As they approached the entrance, a guard let out a low, piercing whistle, as he caught sight of Theresa. "Looks like Thompson found a rare gem," he laughed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Where did you find this beauty, mind if I buy her from you?" He joked, eliciting chuckles from the other guards.
"I will rather have you focus on your job."
"Come on, at least let the girl introduce herself." The guard persisted.
With a glare directed towards the guard, Thompson responded. "It seems you would like to introduce yourself alongside her, as a new slave, but I doubt you will bring any value with that face of yours. Now move, if you do not want to be stepped on."
"I will come for her tonight." The man who seemed to enjoy pestering Thompson yelled, his voice loud enough for him to hear.
The pair proceeded in, apart from the man who guarded her, something else followed closely...
A woman burst through the rusted metal doors, running as fast as she could from the fate that had been handed over to her mercilessly. The sound of her labored breathing and the clang of the doors echoed through the corridor. Her tattered dirty clothes, stained with blood, were clear evidence that she had been tortured countless times. Her ragged appearance was no different from what this place turned one into. The stench of sweat, blood, and despair clung to her like a shroud.
She had worn out eyes, which searched for a way of escape, despite knowing it was a distant hope. Thompson got hold of Theresa's arm, pulling her to the side just before the woman crashed into her. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before the woman's gaze darted away, as she continued her fruitless search. Theresa, however, didn't look away. Her eyes followed the woman, before eventually landing on something that made the last remaining courage and hope in her wither away.
Among the holes in her tattered clothes, there was one, larger than the rest, by her back. Unlike the rest, this one had a reason for its existence. It allowed one to get a clear view of the severe wound that had yet to begin healing on her back. The wound was a deep angry red, with traces of blood around it. Just the sight alone couldn't predict the pain, but it could tell the woman was in extreme agony. Her flesh was visible through the gaps in the bloodstains, exposing a wound that looked freshly inflicted.
But none of that was the reason for the growing fear in Theresa's heart. The main reason her heart raced was because it wasn't just an ordinary scar, but one given to slaves. Branding, marking, labeling, call it any name. It was an identification mark, that resided on any slave's body... and was soon going to reside on hers.
...it was dread. Dread followed closely. Slowly creeping into the space formerly occupied by Theresa's little courage and hope.