The lights gave off a dimming dark tint to the dull gray room. Aroma of death lingered across the place. Death doesn't have an smell you say? It's not that you can really have the deased in your nostrils, it's more of a rotten sent. The smell that makes you crinkle up your nose in disgust.
Chains jiggled harder as the male fought for freedom. Both wrists and ankles bound together tight, keeping him down to a rough cement wall. He whined with his acking raw dark gray wrists tired from the whole experience.
How long has it been now? Days, weeks, months, years? He fought the rusty chains some more in desperate attempts to try again for freedom. Nothing, not even a creek. A sigh escapes from his chapped lips as he looked up to the ceiling.
The hazy attacks linger in his mind. He doesn't recall much, just a name. Gamzee. Anything else deosn't seem to stick in the right way like Gamzee does. A last name doesn't really come up. Age? Family? Friends? Nothing is clear. A few faces form in his rusted think pan, but nothing sticks out.
Sometimes it's easy to zone out and focus on water dripping from the rusted pipes. Plink, plunk, plop, plink.
It's killing to wait for her to come. She, this woman, always clicks into the room on a pair of heels at a certain time. A green glowling concotion in hand. Her gentle words are mind numbing as she feeds him, "Open wide."
His head shoots up glancing at the door swinging with a large amount of creeks and whines as if the door is whining for help. He was waiting for her- "Head's up sunshine." a gruff voice comands as he bangs on the clanky metal door a few times.
Gamzee remained silent watching the door. Behind him stood a female in a dark green hood. A garnet green pair of lips shine in the light. Her hands hold a dark jet black purse to her chest. "Well, since you didn't like my last one, he caught my eyes. Picked him up a few years ago, he's about six sweeps. Perhaps he's your taste miss? Juggalo, pure subjuggalator. They warned us when we got em, gotta feed him cooked soper slime. Kinda like meds-"
"I'll Take Him." She mumbled holding out a small silver card.
"Eh, you sure lady-"
"Bag Him Up. I Don't Want The Surprise Ruined. How Much Silver Will My Juggalo Boy Be?" She calmly asked walking past the merchant to look over the boy.
"Uh. Eighty dollars enough cash?"
"Yes Yes." She mumbled, dazed by the speciam. "He's... Perfect." The woman whispered, slowly running a golden claw down his dirty arm, slightly discused at the poor treatment they've delived but it was amzing to find him. He wincned squirming around in pain from her stinging polish. "I Want His Wrists Tied, Eyes Covered, And Mouth Gagged Please."
"Lady, Look, I just sell em. You do the rest-" She turned with her eyes shining, fangs barred. "Now." The female annouced with a low tone growl at him.
"Y-yes man. Right away." He mumbled running odd for assistance.
She chuckled watching the troll stramble down the hall in fear, "Hello Gamzee. My Name's Kanaya." Her fangs extended lightly as she ran her tongue across them.
Thanks for reading. This story was first drafted in science class, so it kind of sucks... Yeah, It'll explain everything. Idk anymore. I don't own Gamzee or Kanaya.
