It was scary how quiet it became.
Usually, even in the quietest of places, I felt my heart throb in my chest or hear its faintest beat in my ears. But at this moment, everything was silent aside from the smooth scrape of the pen on the paper.
The room around me was coated in a calming but unsubtle yellow that made the desk I rested my elbows on a much deeper brown and a brighter white paper. I had never signed a contract before, I've never even had a signature, but the man across from me, with his false kind smile and strangely long ponytailed black hair, assured me that printing my name was fine.
I liked my handwriting, but I didn't like the old-styled pen they handed me to write with. It was so thick my fingers began to cramp up after the fourth letter. But I pushed through the discomfort until my name was entirely written.
Antionette Erin Hayhurst.
"Lovely, darling," the man purred as he pulled the paper back to himself.
A blond man, who came in with me and stood behind me, walked to the opposite side of the table, taking the pen from my tiny hands as he went, and considered the contract a moment before signing a line under my printed name titled 'Witness.'
When I breathed in, the air felt cold and was a satisfying feeling in my lungs as I breathed out.
"Excellent." The ponytailed man wore gloves and quite animatedly took off his left glove, revealing a hand covered in pale scars. He produced a pocket knife, a shiny silver one covered in very royal looking leaves.
I didn't flinch as I watched him slice the tip of his finger with the edge of the blade.
"Now, this isn't something to take lightly, little lady," he informed as he pressed his bleeding finger against the corner of the contract, specifically in a small square bordered with gold. "This is the last possible chance for you to back out before-"
I held my left hand out, reaching over the table to present it to him. I wanted him to stop talking.
My enthusiasm seemed to shock both men, the man across hesitating to bring the knife to my hand. "I know I sought you out, dear, but are you certain?"
My eyes felt heavy, a growing sense of exhaustion enveloping my limbs, but I slowly nodded my head, my eyes cast down to the contract as I waited.
I tried not to think too hard about this. I decided not to think at all as I waited for the man to cut me. This had been the first indication that anyone was concerned about what I was doing. But I knew, I knew all too well what this meant, what I was doing, and what this could mean.
I winced from the sudden pain in my hand as the knife sliced down my finger. I recoiled in fright, watching the red pool on the tip of my finger before cutting down the sides and dripping onto the table. I was expecting to get a scolding or some sort of grimace of annoyance at bloodying the table, but the man cleaned off the knife with a white handkerchief while the other blond man stared, expressionless, at the contract. Occasionally, I saw a shadow of a reaction twitch in the corner of his mouth, a blink with a bit more personality than intended, but otherwise nothing.
I kneeled on my chair and leaned forward, stretching my bleeding hand out and pointed downwards at my designated blood pact box. One droplet of my blood splashed in the border, leaving a messy red signature compared to the man's simple press. This didn't seem to bother him or the contract, as the words glowed a brighter yellow than the room and made the table disappear in its light. I leaned back in my chair and turned away, closing my eyes to endure the light better.
A second later, I opened my eyes to watch the blond man roll up the contract and fix it with a red ribbon. The ponytailed man rose from the opposite seat and gestured to the people behind me. "Miss Antionette Erin Hayhurst, you have just legally signed away independence. You are now seen as property until further notice. There will be consequences to disobedience here and out. Say yes if you understand."
As he spoke, some hands pushed my shoulders forward, forcing me to stand as the chair was pulled out from under me. I hadn't seen any of them before; I didn't know where they came from or if they were hiding in the room.
I provided a slow nod. "Yes."
"We're required to make a few alterations. You do not have permission to be violent or to object to said alteration. Say yes if you understand."
My slow nod continued, my eyes drooping as I looked to the floor. "Yes."
The men around me considered each other for a moment before a small rack of clothing was rolled up beside me. I took a short glance, noting various colours ranging from blue to yellow to purple, most of which were dresses, but I lost interest as my attention returned to the floor.
I could hear my heartbeat finally, amongst the fussing and false concerns of the suited men comparing colours to match my skin tone and auburn hair. I didn't feel panicked, but I hadn't yet reached that sense of relief I wanted.
I felt a gloved hand grab my jawline and force it up, startling me enough to run into the man behind me. Hand still on my jawline, I was jerked back to straight posture as another dress was pressed against my chest. While this was happening, someone else saw to the cut on my finger, as it was still dripping red. I noted another two men were discussing something while on tablets, periodically looking at each other and down to them in the corner of my eye.
It was a strange relief to have no one touching me once they dressed me. After a brief debate, it had been decided I wear a white floral-patterned dress that stretched to above my knees. "Go for a more unadulterated look," as one of the men on the tablets had put it.
The ponytailed man kneeled and adjusted a couple of things on my person before running a hand along my face. He pinched one of my cheeks, commenting on how they bounced back and told me to smile. I complied, barely, with a slight grin. He seemed dissatisfied and added, "I need to see your teeth."
The forced smile felt awkward, but he pulled at my lips with his gloved hands to get a better view of them before telling me to stop. He stretched at the skin around my eyes, tilting his head at their colour, "How are we advertising this?" he asked. My eyes were a phenomenon no one understood. While dominated by an emerald green appearance, it was dulled by specs of gold. There was in no way a sense of pattern or reason to my eye colour; they just were and just are.
"Emerald gold," one man stated.
"Be sure to widen your eyes. That could be a good selling point for you, little lady."
I couldn't tell if that was an instruction or not, so I obeyed, but that just made me feel like closing them.
"This may sting, but don't touch it." That was an instruction.
Someone attached a heavy collar to my neck from behind, a heavy linked chain cascading behind me like a dog leash. Where it connected pinched at my skin and made me want to scratch, but before I could consider it, my hands were weighed down by a similar metal that forced them close. Like the collar, some chains piled at my feet.
I hadn't considered my worn in joggers, and it turns out neither had anyone else. "Take your shoes off." I obeyed, pulling them off with my feet and kicking them closer for someone to pick up. They decided my white socks were subtle and added to whatever aesthetic they were going for. All six men took a step back from me to consider their work, each agreeing I was now presentable.
"Lift your head, darling." The ponytailed man made a strange sound by rubbing his fingers together. It was an odd abrasive noise that forced me to lift my chin. "Now, keep it there. You can look hangdog afterwards." I didn't know what that meant, but my expression remained the same, I just opted to look at the ceiling. It was beautiful, with gold swirls and other sparkly patterns, much more beautiful than the green carpet. I heard a creaking sound and watched one of the men opened a closet to dispose of my shoes. I managed a passing glance at a basket overflowed with pairs of shoes, mine sitting on top of it all.
My hands were jerked forwards, causing me to stumble as the ponytailed man dragged my chains through a door. It took a moment of adjusting, but soon I walked side by side with him, two men in front of me and two men behind me. The hallway was dark, with not a single light or candle in sight to guide the way. Instead, there were large rectangles of blue light on the walls with strange fish swimming between them.
My eye followed a purple coloured fish. It was large, very round and had a squished expression as if pressed against some glass. I quickly realised it was just its regular face. My attention moved when a creature, with the top of a beautiful blonde woman and the bottom of some green-scaled fish, came into view. It was able to see into the hallway and stared at me with curious eyes, following me until one of the men shooed her by showing off a strange stick with purple lightning on its end. She was scared off, disappearing into the blue of the water.
We entered another room, this one much larger and much more populated. The room only offered glow in the dark lines along the ground; aside from pathways, it made little boxes around the room where things seemed to be stored. We walked in single file down the designated lane, my presence creating inhuman noises as I passed. I didn't look at what else was in the room, not out of fear but out of disinterest. There was one creature with tentacle-like arms stretching out of its box and onto the pathway. We stepped over its purple appendages without a second glance.
There were roars and screeches and squeals for help bouncing around the room. Things in cages bashed at the bars or punched at their sealed boxes, but I saw none of them.
But quite distinctly, I heard a low, hungry voice, "A Human Hatchling."
That statement gained my attention, as it was followed by slight tapping. I turned my head in the creature's direction in time to watch an enormous grey hand emerge from the darkness, fingers extended, ready to grab me by the face.
One of the men picked me up and threw us both out of its reach as purple lightning sparked from everywhere in the room. The screeching became more intense and jarring before it returned to its regular drone. As the men recovered, I stared at the grey hand, now lying motionless on the pathway. I was unable to tell where the fingers ended, as each one came to a sharp point and was the same colour all the way up the arm.
A man dressed all in black came into view, the purple electric stick in one hand while the other held a long metal hook. He used it to scoop up the wrist and toss it back into designated darkness.
"Is she safe in here?" The man still held me, one arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders while the other supported my legs. Even though I clung to his shoulders, I felt no safer in his arms than I did on the ground.
The other men fixed their jackets and straightened their ties. "She'll be fine."
I shrugged off the man's arm from my shoulder and was pulled to my feet by my hands. One of the men brushed aside some of my hair and said, "She's not physically damaged."
Aside from my wrists, I felt no different from before.
I was led further down the path to the corner of the room.
'She's so young,' I heard someone think. 'She could be my daughter's age.'
Cute redhead, she'll sell quick.
I almost feel sorry for her.
Their thoughts began overlapping and repeating. Some were wondering why I was here, others not caring because this was their job and none of their business. But an agreed thought amongst all of them, even people who weren't walking me anywhere, was curiosity about why I was here.
Unlike everywhere else in the room, I could see the small square of space they were giving me: it was a cage on a raised platform. A hand was held out to me to ascend the steps, but I ignored the gesture to walk up the four steps and into the cage. Aside from a quick glance, I didn't marvel at the size of my pen as I sat down. The door creaked closed behind me, and the men peered from the outside like I were an animal or something to be examined.
An unknown source was shining a light on me from above, the small light blinding my ability to see the faces that looked at me. "You'll be locked in this cage until the auction to keep you out of trouble. It is expected you do not try to escape or cause any damage to yourself until such time. Say yes if you understand."
My hands were clasped on my lap, my thumb running over the bandage they had put on the cut on my finger. "Yes."
"Someone will be by in a bit to see how you're doing. Stay away from the edge of the cage and please, try to smile." With that final instruction, the light shut off, and I was left in darkness.
*
It was hard to know the difference between sleep and the shadows. One moment I sat in the middle of the cage, occasionally shivering from a breathing noise, and the next, it felt like I abruptly awoke from a loud noise.
The noise wasn't a creature's roar or an animalistic growl but a person. A woman was pleading to be let out that she changed her mind. I refrained from rolling my eyes as I realised I was lying down. I pushed myself up and stretched my limbs, my wrists and neck pinched by the shackles from the sudden movement.
"Quiet down you!" I saw a spark of purple in the corner of my eye, followed by a choked screech; what followed were whimpers and softer sobs.
"Yours seems quiet, Davey," said the same voice.
"Yeah, unlike your squealer there," Davey replied.
The pair made a joking banter back and forth before the topic returned to me. "Maybe the girl's fallen asleep then? Humans tend to do a lot of that."
Something clashed onto the side of the cage, sending vibrations through the floor and down my chains. "Yo, girlie. You awake?" I heard the buzz of the purple electricity as the stick was pushed into the cage. The purple glow was an assault on my eyes as I winced at the colour when it came closer. My body was fully visible by the purple light. "What the!" Davey dropped his stick, sending me back into darkness. I reached forward blindly and found the bat.
I shuffled slowly to the edge of the cage and held the stick out into the darkness, waiting for someone to grab it. I felt strong hands take it from me. "Thanks." Davey's voice was gruff. I said nothing as I slid myself back to the centre and waited. The platform the cage was on moved with a light squeak, the movement subtle otherwise. The other woman had started crying again. I could hear her chains scraping against her platform.
"Last call!" someone with a booming voice bellowed from a different room.
I closed my eyes and waited.
When I opened them again, there was a blinding light cast on me. I could sense a thousand eyes and hear a million faint thoughts.
"And next up! We have a female human!" someone announced, "And a rather pretty one at that, ladies and gentlemen!" There were some murmurs and oohs from a crowd I couldn't quite see as I winced. There was a pause from the announcer, and for a moment, I thought I had done something wrong, but the cage door creaked, and I was ushered out by who I assumed to be Davey. I didn't want to leave the cage, it was my only form of security for the moment, but I obeyed.
I was guided to where I should stand, nearly slipping on the polished floorboards, by a raised platform, where a figure dressed in a black suit and tie presented what was for sale.
"I shall now provide details." His voice was so naturally loud it didn't need the help of a microphone. Standing next to him was painful. Someone had handed him some paper in the ten seconds it took for me to get out of the cage, and he took a moment to take in the information, likely figuring out how to advertise me. "A remarkable specimen here, ladies and gentlemen! Not only a human but a hatchling of a human, being twelve years of age!" This caused an uproar of interest from people, their murmurs became louder, and people called out. "A scarlet haired youngster, ripe for parental imprinting or conditioning! Perfect for domestication, or display, as she is presented with striking emerald gold eyes!" He seemed to feint excitement over me, but I could feel him working off the audience reaction. "And an excellent breed as well. With current response to Antionette Erin Hayhurst -how French sounding- she has an Anglo-Saxon heritage with Irish and Yorkshire roots!"
Davey pressed something against my back, forcing me to stand straighter, but my eyes still cast down at the feet of the front row. The auctioneer's words started to deafen out until I couldn't hear anything, aside from my slow heartbeat and breathing. People started shouting, but their words were basic drones to my eardrums. I felt myself begin to sway as I forced myself to leave the situation, to occupy my senses with something else, somewhere else.
I could hear the ringing of casino machines, their insufferable blast of noise, followed by "WINNER! WINNER! WINNER! WINNER!"
I searched deeper in my mind, the noise morphing into carousel music and the scent of popcorn and hot dogs being concocted to make the moment seem real. But a flash of light at the back of the audience snatched me close enough to reality that the moment disappeared.
A third time, determined to disappear for good this time, I sensed wind, a cool breeze against my skin, the gentle chime of branches as gusts of air pushed its way through, going from the trees to a field of orange Butterfly Weeds. I could remember the scratchy feel of the stems on my legs, the silky feel of the petals in my hands, but when I went to recognise their scent, something cut through all my senses, jerking me from my fantasy into reality.
"Awake!"
Someone had snapped their fingers in front of my face. I opened my eyes and saw a black-gloved hand half an inch from my nose.
The man wasn't Davey, or the auctioneer, or any of the suited men. Someone had walked onto the stage from the audience, shielding me from the dazzling light with their oversized trench coat. I looked up to the tall man, unable to see his face due to shadows cast from his jacket, top hat and collar. He was a large mass of obscurities.
"I have decided," he said, his voice low and calming, only I could hear him.
"Sir… I'm afraid this is-"
"Five million."
My eyes eventually found him; a pair of glowing rubies.
There was a collective gasp around the auditorium, some yelling in outrage, as the auctioneer stood there speechless. After a moment, the chaos calmed down, and the auctioneer managed to speak, his voice losing its volume. "New bidding; Five million. Any counter offers?"
I couldn't hear the silence straight away. I held my stare at the strange man. The longer I stared, the less scared I became of him. There was an almost demonic look about him, the shadows seemed to rise like steam in the light, and his coat expanded as if to make himself look more prominent. From where I stood, I noticed he had a massive but slim physique.
Whether out of fear, or monetary value, no one placed a bid against the man. He held his gloved hand out to me, and with little hesitation, I took it in my own, both of mine forced to hold onto his one. He kneeled before me, his figure slightly more visible now, and I could see the outline of his face as we waited for the gavel noise.
"… Going thrice? Sold to…" the auctioneer paused as he looked at the man, noticing how he was now holding my hands, "… This… man." The gavel hit the desk, and I was sold.
As the sound bounced around the room, I heard the muffled sounds of people's disappointment and grunts of annoyance, but I focused on him. He raised my hands to his face and planted the softest of kisses on them, a tender gesture that I tilted my head in confusion for.
Davey grabbed me by the waist and lifted me away from the man, the disjointing of our hands causing a surprising bout of distress from me as I was carried off stage, both the cage and the man disappearing from my sight.