Slave To The Fang

2, A sad life

Gale's POV, 21 years later

Head down, avoid eye contact, make yourself smaller, avoid them all.

That was my daily mantra and that was what had kept me alive for twenty-one years. One might see me as a coward but in this world that I lived in, in this world that I had been forced into without a choice, this was my reality. Maybe in some alternate universe, I meant more, I was more but in this world, in this so called sunny south, I was a slave, one of many, an adjunct to a system set in place for generations where the weak served the strong and when you failed to know your place you were killed. It was as simple as that.

Do you know the worst part about the system, it was that anyone could be a slave. That was just the thing. It wasn't like only a particular race or a particular set of people were made into slaves, no, anyone could be a slave. Be you a human, a witch, a vampire, a werewolf or some other species. The balance was always between being safe or not being safe. Today you could be a Lord and the very next day you could be squabbling for crumbs of cheese in a cage with other supposedly lower beings. Just like that, the scales could be tipped against you. But it was more common for people to be made into slaves than for a slave to be granted a castle and live a life of luxury.

Just like the girl who shared my cage with me. She was a very healthy and clearly previously pampered thing. She was already losing some of the color on her cheeks but anyone looking at her would know she had grown up in wealth. She lay huddled in a ball to the side of the cage, her once expensive clothes torn to rags, dirtied and muddy but even now, you could see that it had been made of fine silk. She was sniffling now and she had not spoken much, just crying mostly and asking, no demanding to be taken out. I wanted to tell her that she was no longer one of the elites and she had gotten to the lowest of the low but I really didn't have the energy to do so. It was to be a waste of energy because the more you sympathized with people like her, the more hysterical they got and the more attention they attracted. Most of them never lasted a week in this place. And those who lasted, the masters broke them and from then on, they were worse than common animals.

Did I pity her? No, not really. I felt for her but I didn't pity her. According to her, these three days that she had been here were the worst of her life. To think she hadn't even made an acquaintance with the master's whip yet. It may be so, but some of us didn't even have any other luxury to compare to. I would say my greatest luxury was that one of my previous masters had taught me how to read and write. Oh, that and the fact that I was secretly a witch. Okay, I will admit, I didn't know much about spells and witchcraft but I felt it in my blood, I was a witch. I could do small spells that I had picked up here and there though. If I was exposed to spells and a teacher I would probably be great but even those were fancy dreams because if the master found out I could use my power, he would see me as a threat and my punishment would be great. I had seen what happened to the others who tried to prove strong.

Anyway, back to the girl who shared my cage with me, did I pity her? No. And yet I found myself pushing my dish of bread and a small piece of dried meat to her to eat. I had noticed that she had not been given food ever since she came and she must be hungry. No, I was not being weak, I just didn't want her crying more out of hunger. Yes, that's it. Get off my case.

"Eat." I said simply, watching her. I was sat in a corner of the cage, my knees hunched up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them securing them to my chest. I was used to this but she wasn't. It had been long I made contact with another slave in here, I had no idea why I was giving this girl my food and talking to her. My voice was hoarse from a long time of disuse but she turned to stare at me. Her sniffling stopped and red rimmed eyes looked at me suspiciously. She looked like a mess to be honest and her blonde hair was in muddy, stringy rope like structures.