[HAZEL'S POV]
Cough! Cough! Cough!
It's cold. And it's dark. Rats scurried around my cell, squeaking noisily around me.
I tightened my blanket around me tighter to keep me warm but it was no good.
Cough! Cough! Cough!
The kid opposite me lay on her back, coughing helplessly. I've also caught the cold myself but mine wasn't as chronic as hers.
She won't last long. They'd dispose of her soon.
I coughed and winced as my stomach growled.
I was hungry but the Slave Master chose not to give my rations because today, I was going to get a new master.
Suddenly I heard his heavy footsteps thudding towards my cell. I knew this day would come.
I wasn't expecting it to be today. He stopped before me—The Slave Master.
I've never met anyone so ugly and terrifying. Men with faces like his should be locked up in the house of horrors.
How I ended up in his hands still remained a dream to me—No this was no dream. It was a nightmare.
A nightmare I've come to accept.
The Slave Master opened my cell and stepped in, gazing down at me in a greedy way that sent chills down my spine.
"It's about time you get shown to our guests, baby," he leaned forward, passing his tongue across thick lips. Then he fondled me.
I could've resisted but what good would it do? I already knew what would happen if I put up resistance.
The Slave Master was a man of little patience. He was always quick with his fists and whip.
I've seen what he did to a stubborn girl who tried to resist him.
She didn't live to tell the tale. He killed her with his bare hands like a bug.
I allowed him fondled me but he wasn't touching me to feel aroused.
He was appraising me, his merchandise, before he brought me out to the market to be sold to my new master.
"Firm youthful breasts," he nodded, squeezing my breasts. "Curvy waist, flawless skin, round ass. Still a virgin. Yup, except for a few bruises, you'll fetch me a good price out there. Come on, stand up."
I slowly stood to my feet while he feasted his eyes over me.
Despite his brutal nature, The Slave Master never made a move on me.
Rather he tortures me with his whip just like he does with the other slaves.
I hated it. I hated it because he held my freedom.
For that, I hated him but not as much as I hated the man who ruined my whole life.
Minutes later, I was put on shackles on my wrists and neck.
There was an evil glitter in his eyes as he dragged me away in chains to be sold.
Chattering of men ahead of me raised my anxiety. I could smell cigarette smoke, body sweats and beer lingering in the air.
The lights at the end of the corner brought me into a crowded underground auction.
A cloud of cigarette smoke hung in the air and I could make out men and women moving about in their coats and suits.
The Slave Master dragged me towards a raised platforms where a girl, stripped to her skin was being purchased.
I looked at her new owner and his face filled me with dread.
He was made of pounds and pounds of fats but that wasn't the worse side of him.
It was the cruelty I saw in his eyes. He held more cruelty than The Slave Master.
This made my heart pound hard against my ribs and my blood ran cold.
I suddenly became afraid.
I desperately wished for my freedom—but most importantly, I didn't want to be sold to a creep like that.
"You're up, baby," The Slave Master pushed me on the platform. A spotlight flashed down upon me.
I raised my eyes and caught my breath at the hundreds of eyes staring at me with interest.
This was a place where lives were bidded and bought. This was my end. I can't do this anymore.
Someone should please save me. I want my freedom.
I hadn't realized when The Slave Master came up to me and tore my clothes off, exposing my youthful body underneath a transparent gown before the eyes of these men.
The gown was as transparent as a glass and I could feel the men's gazes burning on my skin.
The hall erupted in a maddening chatter as they ogled me with their eyes.