Sold: The Vampire's Slave

Auction

We sit in the cellar for four more days, and over the four days, that girl does not return with more fruit. Even still, the lack of food isn't breaking my hope. I am grateful, though, for the small cup of water I received just this morning. We have yet to receive any news about when the auction is. My arms and legs are stiff, and I bid my time by playing with my hair. Twisting it up in braids and twists, I'd worn to dances. The quintet will nod, and then begin to play. Their light swing, moving swift and fast as the intro to our dance sets us left and right. Keep your feet light and proceed with the flow. I keep my eyes shut, and sigh in content. Outside, the air hangs heavy on everyone from not knowing. The man with the shaggy dark hair refuses to answer any questions and threatens anyone who asks him again.

"It's a holdup," Cole informs me.

"What could be the holdup?" I ask curiously. He shrugs, just as clueless ask am.

"There are other vampire slave traders out there, perhaps there's too many at the auction?" he tells me. Cole starts to say more when the sound of heavy boots coming down the stairs reaches our ears. Poor Cole jumps a little, and he darts away from the bars that keep us apart.

"Y'all be ready to leave," the man shouts, breaking the quietness like a knife. 'It's time, we must be leaving for the auction,' I realize. Everyone wearily rises to their feet, mothers grab their children, and the men grumble and groan as we form a line. I gaze around the dim room that ss of dirt, sweat, and blood, the room with dirt floors and stone walls. Where shall we go from here? I've been here for five days, not even a week. The board covering the entrance outside was removed, a flimsy wooden ladder is lowered, and people weakly, slowly, carefully climb out. I'm last with Cole as we climb. It wobbles under each of us. One of the steps snaps under Cole's foot, too. The sun is setting, giving the clouds a pinkish glow; it's absolutely gorgeous. The light is hard to adjust to, but I still marvel at the sight.

"Let's go!" I'm shouted at. I flinch, fangs piercing the back of my mind. I see a girl's body being dragged off. I turn sharply, practically running to the cart and throwing info myself in at the edge with the others.

"You boy, shift," the man shouts at Cole. The blond boy shifts into a wolf again, tearing his tattered, dulled, ripped clothes, and jumps into the cart where he is restrained with strips of hardened leather. The man sits at the front of the cart with his legs hanging over the edge. The carriage lurches forward as the horses begin to pull us forward. Down the dusty road, further into vampire territory. We're heading north, I can tell by looking at the sun. You rest in the afternoon when the sun sets; west - rest. Eat in the morning; eat - east.

Tall trees around us cast shadows everywhere. Even if someone tried to jump, and escape where would they go? It is impossible to see past the dark trees surrounding us, and who knows what awaits us beyond the darkness. Surely the escapee would be captured again if the woodland animals didn't first. Hazy blocky forms come into view, and finally, just up ahead, I can see town lights. The soft thumps of the horse's hooves become soft taps on the stone road. The road into the town appears to be made of a gray cobblestone. The wheels of the cart no longer lurch one way or another but instead roll smoothly along the stone street. Small, stone, and wooden buildings lined the roads of their town lives. A few are more extensive, busier, and look like restaurants, but smell nothing like what you'd expect a restaurant to be like. People sit out under white canopies wearing loose, luxurious formal clothing. Soft laughter blows freely, glass clink together lightly, and chatter flows slowly all around us. They look our way with red eyes while drinking red wine from fancy looking glasses. I stare at the restaurant, and a shudder runs down my spine. It looks like wine, but it sloshes too heavy in their glasses to be wine.

We stop in front of a large wooden building with a sign that reads 'Slave and Pet hold.' The building holds loud chatter and the sound of glasses clinking, too. We stare up at it in wonder as we shuffle uneasily. The man releases Cole from the leather bindings. He gestures with the door open for us to enter. We cautiously approach the building. Its fateful walls engulf us. A short man greets the shaggy hair man with utmost delight the moment his eyes fall on us.