The burning sensation lingered on my arm, even after being placed on ice. Linda, ever the stoic one, stood close to me, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before us. My eyes dropped to the mark on my arm, standing out against my pale skin. It was a searing red, a brand that would forever mark me.
"What do you think the symbol implies?" Linda whispered, leaning closer, her breath warm against my ear. She gestured towards the circular mark, a key etched in its center.
The door to the room Miss Cooper kept us in creaked open, revealing her in a less sinister attire. A cigarette, freshly lit, dangled from her lips, the smoke curling around her finger as she moved.
"I think it means we're locked forever?" I replied, my voice laced with uncertainty. I dropped my arm, focusing on the scene before us. Miss Cooper was lecturing us, her words dripping with disdain.
"Behave," she commanded, her voice sharp and cold. "Stand confident, enough to be bought for a good price. Follow commands. You are common slaves."
A shiver ran down my spine. The reality of my situation crashed over me. I was a commodity, a piece of property to be bought and sold.
"And remember," Miss Cooper continued, her eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. "If you're not bought today, you'll be served as a prize to our horny men and girls."
Before I could stop myself, my hand shot up in the air. The room fell silent, eyes turning towards me. I felt a pang of fear, but I held my ground.
"Yes, blondie?" Miss Cooper sneered, her gaze sharp and dismissive. "Got a question for me?"
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Uhh, yeah- yes," I stammered, glancing at Linda for support. "Can I uhh… can we buy back ourselves?"
The question hung in the air, a desperate plea for a sliver of hope.
"As ridiculous as it sounds, yes, you can," Miss Cooper chuckled, her voice laced with sarcasm. "That's if you have the money right now with you."
She turned away, her attention shifting to Krystal who walked backstage, her face etched with exhaustion.
"The arena is set," she informed Miss Cooper before disappearing.
"That's it, babies, follow your numbers," Miss Cooper chirped, her voice suddenly saccharine. "Now c'mon, follow me," she said, throwing a strange glance at me before turning to leave. My eyes were drawn to the cigarette in her hand, its glowing tip a morbid reminder of her own mortality.
My stage number was twelve. Linda was the first to walk through the door, her eyes meeting mine in a silent farewell. The weight of her departure settled on me, a heavy ache in my chest.
Shouts echoed from the arena hall, a cacophony of voices fueled by lust and greed. The air buzzed with anticipation, a palpable tension that made my skin crawl.
One by one, the numbers were called, each departure a slow, agonizing countdown. Finally, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.
The door opened, revealing the brightly lit stage. My feet dragged as I walked towards the center, the stage lights blinding me. The heat of the lights intensified, showcasing every inch of my bare skin.
A man, his face obscured by the shadows, stepped closer.
"And this last piece right now came with less baggage," he announced, his voice booming through the arena. He gestured towards me, a smirk playing on his lips. "He might be petite, but I assure you, he's got the skills to kill an elephant."
The crowd erupted in laughter, their amusement a cruel echo of my own despair. The man continued, his words a barrage of lies and embellishments, designed to inflate my worth.
"From our source, he's a rogue," he said, his voice dripping with false authority. "Imagine what you'll do to that strength of his?"
Strength? I was useless, a mere shadow of a man.
"And a natural blonde," he said, his eyes scanning the crowd. "It's difficult to see blondes like this around here, only on rare occasions like this one." He paused, his gaze lingering on the faces in the crowd. "The starting price is 2000."
"2300!" a voice shouted.
"2700!" another voice yelled from the back.
The bidding began, a frenzied dance of numbers and greed. My heart hammered in my chest, a frantic rhythm echoing the escalating bids.
"10800!"
"12900!"
"14000!"
The bids slowed, the room holding its breath.
"14000! going once… going twice…" the stageman announced, his voice echoing through the arena.
"14010!" a familiar voice cut through the silence.
The stageman frowned, but quickly recovered. "14010 going once… going twice… Sold!" he yelled. "Number twelve sold to Mrs Morgan. Please come backstage after this to claim your bidding."
My head snapped up, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who had just bought me. But the stage lights were too bright, the backstage shrouded in darkness.
I was led off the stage, my legs wobbly beneath me. The world around me blurred, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.
I walked through a side door, into a bustling area. A young boy directed me to a dark, chubby woman behind a metal desk. She looked eerily similar to Miss Cooper.
"Yeah, I know, I get that look a lot," she said, her voice surprisingly friendly. "Sit down there while I arrange your documents." She pulled out a file and a pen. "Signed there, and the places that require signatures," she instructed, handing me the pen.
I took the pen, my gaze fixed on the woman. It was impossible to shake the feeling that she was Miss Cooper.
"I assure you, I am not," she said, her voice laced with annoyance. "But yes, she's my twin."
I didn't believe her. Miss Cooper had a much lighter complexion. But I signed the documents, my hand trembling.
"She's an albino," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
I nodded, my mind reeling.
Krystal walked towards us, her eyes meeting mine.
"Done making the payment for twelve, Krystal?" the dark woman asked, her voice familiar and casual.
My eyes widened in shock. Krystal had bought me? Why?
"Yeah, sure," she chuckled, her gaze shifting to me. "Let's go," she said.
I followed her, my eyes glued to the ground. We walked towards a car parked at the far end of the lot.
She let me sit in the back, the driver pulling away without a word. The ride was silent, the only sound the hum of the engine.
The car drove for almost an hour, the lingering panic from the auction slowly returning. Through the window, I saw the town in the distance, a cluster of lights against the darkness. And then, a tall building came into view.
Krystal lived in a huge house. It was a stark contrast to the image I had formed of her, the slave trader. Why was she working with them?
The gates swung open, allowing the car to drive into the compound. The house was massive, surrounded by a sprawling garden.
The engine died, and Krystal stepped out of the car. I followed, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Come with me," she said, walking towards the front door. I hurried after her, desperate to avoid getting lost.
The house was opulent, its interior a stark contrast to the black exterior. It was a labyrinth of rooms, each one more extravagant than the last.
"Noah?" Krystal called out, her voice echoing through the empty halls.
A young boy, no older than seventeen, came running.
"Yes, Madame?"
Krystal pointed at me. "Settle him down," she said, disappearing through a tall door.
Noah's green eyes, a stark contrast to my dark ones, ran over me.
"The new kid never lasts a day," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's go meet the others."
He walked towards the back door, and I followed, my eyes drawn to the mark on his palm. It was the same key symbol that was branded on my arm.