( Alright. Here we go. I have never shared a story I have written. This is the first. Rules people. This story is -DARK- , there are things in this story that people might not feel comfortable reading, if you are offended by rape, or other things of that nature. Please do not read it. You have been warned. This is based off of the toons my friend FreneticFangs, and I created. Diirak and Vyndette. I don't own Blizzard, or World of Warcraft, though I would like to, however the ideas were ours. Yeah.. with that done.. if you are still here, start reading!)

It Begins.

Vyndette Hailwind, stared up with bright emerald eyes, as the frail looking red-headed elf boy was brought up on stage. His wrists bound, legs shackled, the tiny red marks that marred his flesh bringing tears to her eyes. She knew all too well about the pain that soon was to ensue for the small boy. She herself was no longer shackled, but wore a leather collar around her neck, which was encrusted with her master's family crest, stating that she belonged to him. Small hands folded in front of her, eyes never looking directly in to the face of the man that stood next to her, her head lowered, showing her submissiveness to him. She was nothing but a slave. She had been broken, in every sense of the word. She was no longer a child, innocent and naive. No, she was a woman trapped in the shell of a little girl. Life was harsh, and that type of life forces a youth to grow much faster than they should, know things, see things, and feel things they should not. She had seen the loss of life within the care of Felendren, which she had been in for about a year now. She stared up at the boy, knowing, just knowing from the look of lust that was laden on the evil bastard's face that he would be next.

"Here we have a fine specimen of a little boy. Look at those lovely red locks that he possesses, see his flawless skin. It is apparent that this boy can handle much work, due to the fact of his ability to maintain demon skin. He will make a fine addition to any home. The opening bid for this lad is a mere 78 silver. Do we have a first bid?"

Felendren raised one of his large callous covered fingers, showing that he was interested in the purchasing of the child. A slime-like grin rested on the face of the man. One that caused the little girl with him to shudder with fear. A hand came down to clasp against her shoulder, causing her to go still, he leaned down, the smell of him moving through her nose, making her feel ill.

"You shall soon have yet another playmate child, as will I."

His tone was none too sweet. To put it bluntly, this man was a pedophile with an affinity for liking little boys. See, the only reason he collected girls, well occasionally he did like to look at their under-developed forms, and pretend they were boys. Odd, but who really knows about people any more. There was no response from the girl, as a new look of hope filled her face. She did want someone else she could talk to, and by the master saying he would be her playmate, that meant they were to room together. She wouldn't be left alone within that dank cellar like room herself any more. If this boy joined the ranks of slavery, she vowed she would protect him the best that she could. She knew she wouldn't be able to save him from the torment the master could bring him, but she would do her best to help him. On with the bidding war that was now taking place.

"I have 5 gold for this boy, do I hear any more?"

Another rise of his hand, as he brought the price up to 10. The crowd clapped excitedly, and oohed and ahhed. Some people bidding had pure intentions, unlike the man next to her. Another rise up to 20 gold. 20 GOLD!! Felendren only paid 15 silver for her. Then it ended on the 20 gold note. The boy was to come with them. She tried her best to remain sullen, but her heart was screaming for joy.

Felendren moved up to the stage and picked the boy up, unceremoniously flinging him over his shoulder. The master took the boy, as well as her over to the carriage, and they were off, back to their home. The whole ride home, Vendetta sat in silence next to the boy, her small hand wrapped around his, in almost a motherly like fashion. It was hidden though, the Master unable to see, due to the fact that there was a large blanket covering the boy. The wheels slowly came to a halt, and they were outside of the manor. Her small hand slipped away from the boy, as he was picked up, taken from her. She fought to keep her stoic look, as she slid out of the carriage, and walked behind the man, holding the new addition to their "family". Eyes would flash up from time to time, staring through onyx tresses at the sleeping face of the boy. If only he was awake, if only.

Inside. The manor was large, befitting royalty, nothing that you would think a common child molester to live in. This place was extravagant, having the finest tapestries, and furniture one could buy. Even such a beautiful place such as this, brought only misery. Once again, hands folded in front of her as she followed the master, joined now by a flock of a few other children, all of them falling in place right behind her. Some of them whispered about the addition of the new boy, while others said nothing. It seemed that this was most unexpected.

"Vyndette, quit your lagging behind child, and walk next to me proper."

The tone oozed off of the man like slime, making her shiver, and feel as though she needed a shower. She moved up next to him, not missing a beat. She stole a glance up to the boy. Bad mistake being so near the master. He saw this and stopped, turning to face the girl, who ended up looking him dead in the face. She gasped, having taken notice of the man's eyes. The mater hoisted the small boy of the boy up higher on his shoulder and turned on Vendetta, fist curled. She caught this one right against the side of her jaw. Being the small girl that she was, her jaw broke from the impact, and she.. hit the floor. She did not sob, having learned to hold that back long ago. The more noise you made, the more he decided to beat. Slow, almost clumsily she picked herself off of the floor, and started moving once more. They were close to the rooms, and once inside she could cry all she wanted to.

Down the curling stairs to the small cells that represented their rooms. The boy was placed down on a straw covered cot, while Vyndette walked over to her own cot, sitting down, just waiting. Felendren, stared down at the boy, leaning down fingers skimming the boy's hair. There it was, that look, the one she knew too well, followed by the movements of a hand to a belt. Vendetta stood, dropping down to her knees, muttering through her broken jaw, wincing in pain.

"Master, forgive me for my rudeness and speaking out of turn, but don't you think it better for the boy to be awake the first time?"

Felendren looked at the girl, and took her words to heart.

"You are right girl, but speak out of turn again, and you -will- regret it."

Success, the man was held of for the time being. Once the door squeaked shut, and she heard the steps of the man walking away. Tears poured down her face, and she reached up to her jaw, stroking the swollen skin. Her flesh was battered, her bones marred, however that was not her concern just yet. She walked over and shook the boy, trying desperately to wake him up. She succumbed to the pain finally, and dropped down her attempts to wake the red-head were done. She kept her emerald eyes resting on the door, making sure he wasn't coming in, or watching. He wasn't thank the gods. A golden light engulfed her fingertips, swallowing her palm as she tilted her head back. The light moved, before her hands lifted up over her head. There was the sound of cracking, as her jawbone mended back together, even the bruises fading away, as if they never were. She opened her mouth, testing to see if the pain was gone. That is when she noticed it. That movement out the corner of her eye...he was awake.