"I survived to live, he survived to kill. Little did we know, only one can survive this story."
Reality is a prison.
I had ambitions, hope and freedom for whatever my future holds.
What I didn't expect, was for all that to be viciously snatched fro...
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L U C I A
IF FAIRYTALES WERE MEANT TO HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS, THEN WHERE WAS MINE? Moments after the transaction was made and I became a slave to Master A. I was dragged by two men into a room which resembled to a prison cell. Four bleak walls surrounded us, with a single, dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
The clinking of handcuffs was a reminder for no escape. I was bound to trauma no matter where I went, because each time I opened my eyes. I was always haunted with the remainders of my situation.
I belonged to Master A. The man who claims me as his property, for a significant, hefty price of five million dollars. A price no man would ever bet on unless he was desperate. Except this guy, he wasn't desperate. He was deranged for ownership, because in that room? He was the top man. The richest of riches. Power of muscles and intimidation.
Betting the highest value in the auction room was a demonstration of his irrational behaviour. No man would ever want to make a stupid move like that and spend extortionate amount of money on a woman. Show off? Yes. But being generous? No. I came to learn of this, during my shifts at the Dollhouse. Men love the thrill, but later on desires become boring and efforts are thrown out of the window.
However, the guy who bought me? He petrified me to the core. His impulsive actions have me wondering, if his mind is even trained to restrain himself from doing something even worse? Like murdering someone. Would I wake up one morning and find a knife to my throat, or would I find myself encircled by his arms in bed? To prepare myself for the unknowing was going to be a challenge for me, especially if I wanted to survive.
And come back for vengeance.
For now, time will tell as I sit alone and ponder how my life has spun to this? To the world, I was a dead girl walking on the surfaces of this ground. My identity was irredeemable and the Quarters made sure of that. The paper laid out in front of me, reveals to me of all the things I don't want to know. A contract I don't want to sign.
The second ink stains the page, I am forever his. A contract that informs our permanent ties in business. His purchase. His slave. His property. Fear travelled its way through my veins, but never made its way to my facial muscles. My mind is ordering my body to fall in place, as the door creaks open revealing the host. Taking a seat in front of me, he glances at the paper which remained untouched. The transformation of his gleeful expression morphed into a disappointed frown.
"Y-you haven't signed it?" He spluttered. Clasping the paper in his hands, he skimmed his eyes over the documents finding a blank space. One that required my signature, waiting to confirm my defeat. Nothing betrayed my face as I stared at him impassively, a mask of defiance and resistance.
I knew a storm was brewing in his eyes when I felt the table shake. Just like lightening, the slam of hands hit the table with fury. Papers were skewed across the floor, as I was matched with undefeated rage. I tried my best not to flinch, but at this point I couldn't suppress the fear that had found me. My stomach lurched at the uncomfortable position I was in.
