Chapter 5: The First Day
Kaitlyn's departure left a gloomy feeling in my chest. I was used to being punished for acting out, but this was another level entirely. I could only hope her promise about us leaving soon was real, but my heart sank as I looked around the cages. Judging by some of the more emaciated slaves, whose heads drooped and eyes stared listlessly, I might not see the sun for a while. Still, I found myself hoping I'd be taken somewhere else soon, where ever that might be. It can't be worse than living life locked in this cage. What were we even supposed to do for food or water? I didn't bother asking about a bathroom, as that was answered by the squalid stench of feces mixed in with the dust.
I gingerly felt at my face, where a dark bruise marred my cheek. I was no stranger to pain, but the throbbing wounds all over my body felt different. Until now, my life had been filled with violence for the sake of others' pleasure or arousal, a bid for a reaction rather than suffering. I'd perfected my act and learned to satisfy their twisted desires while still protecting myself, but found those skills useless now. This world oppressed for the sake of oppression and used pain as a method of control, regardless of any reaction it garnered.
Just thinking of my situation brought hot tears trickling down my cheeks unhindered. Sniffling, I curled up and closed my eyes "Oh, God..." I began, then snapped my mouth shut.
Prayer had been a habit for me. It was one of my few comforts in a hopeless life, that somewhere, maybe, a merciful being was watching me. Whenever I was beaten senseless or drenched in despair, I prayed for all I was worth, sending my fears and sorrow to whatever god was listening. I shuddered as I recalled the immense colosseum of gods, unable to find it in me to pray. No doubt they'd simply mock my tears, laughing at the hero they'd sent down into slavery.
Lost within a darkness even my eyes failed to breach, I squeezed my eyes shut and curled up in a ball. Surely this was all just a dream. Please be a dream.
Unfortunately, reality came knocking early the next day. Shortly after the sun rose, I was awakened by the loud crash of chains. Weak and groggy, I suppressed a sigh and sat up. Might as well see what's going on.
The warehouse doors opened, and another wagon was parked outside. A few slavers dragged several more slaves into the room, locking them in cages near mine. For some reason, I kind of assumed I was the last, but it seems that's not the case.
The newcomers looked beaten and weary, with species as varied as my batch. Wherever we had come from must have been hit hard. I straightened, squinting to peer closely as the last slave was dragged in. His familiar horns and tail gave rise to curiosity, and I pressed my face against the bars as they dragged him past. His elderly body was bowed with age, but his eyes were filled with scorn, staring at his captors and the other slaves with disdain.