So I've loved Tokyo Ghoul for a while, but I never got around to writing anything for it. Maybe this will suck, maybe it wont. Let me know how I did.
'Why am I here? They never have anyone good to sell, and the good ones are bought up by the richer ones.'
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Auction begin!"
It was boring, seeing each human get auctioned off. A lot of men and women were just bought to eat, and even more were bought as slaves. All were either women or children. Even with their masks, it wasn't hard to tell their plans with the depraved twinkle in their eyes. After all, humans are one of three things to a Ghoul: a slave, a meal, or a Scrapper.
I was about to fall asleep out of boredom when I heard the entire crows hiss. I look up and see something peculiar on stage: a teenage boy, entirely bound in chains. His dark red hair was a disheveled mess, and he looked as if he'd never slept a night in his life. A metal mouth restraint covered his mouth, making him look more like a vicious dog than a human The High Class would sell.
"Our final item, a seventeen year old human. Fit and angry enough to be one hell of a fighter. Bid starts at 100,000 yen."
'Why would they sell him that cheap? Probably the same reason he's wearing that muzzle.'
"120,000!" I called, raising my sign to show my bid.
"120,000 yen, going once. Going twice! Sold, to the young lady with the Sparrow mask." The auctioneer called, gesturing to me with his gavel.
I felt a tad uneasy when they brought him to me. The look in his eyes was that of a madman, or a wild animal that was backed into a corner. Maybe those green eyes were why no one else placed a bid. They could inspire fear in humans and ghouls alike.
Due to his violent nature, workers from the Auction had to ship him to my address in order to keep him from running away or tearing me apart. Of course, I had no issue with that, though I did have my doubts of a human being able to kill any ghoul, let alone a S-Class like myself. Until I noticed that some of the Ghoul Shippers were regenerating their fingers.
When I got home, I noticed that the truck from the Auction was parked out front. I went in and saw the human, still chained, masked, and glaring. The men who unloaded him tipped their hats and walked out in a hurry, warning me to be careful as they left.
"Pathetic, aren't they?" He asked, his voice a raspy monotone.
"So you can talk? Here I thought they just ripped out your vocal cords or something?"
He chuckled. "Believe me, they tried. Why do you think they put this thing on my face?"
I slowly unraveled the human and took off his mask. His lips were surrounded by blood, blood that smelled of someone else.
"About time, miss. Those chains were murder on my arms. Anyway, what should I call you?" he groaned, stretching his arms.
"I'd prefer Akane. What should I call you, other than a pain in the ass?"
"Hmmm...I feel like my real name would be boring, How about...Arata? Nice ring to it, right?" He suggested.
"I suppose so. Anyway, Arata, it's late. Your room is upstairs. Run, and I'll kill you." I threatened, unleashing my Ukaku to prove my point.
"Understood, Akane. Besides, where could I go? I don't have any friends or family in Japan." he sarcastically remarked as he went upstairs.
"Maybe his mouth is why the bid was so low." I muttered as I went up to my room.
(Arata's POV)
"Why is she so nice? She doesn't act like...him…" I muttered, closing the bedroom door behind me. "She just wants to get in my head, just like he got into hers."
There's no way I'd ever tell her, but I heard voices. Specifically, my mother's. She'd scream and wail, begging for help. Then there was a sickening splatter, one that I remember all too well. They said I'd be cheap because of it, because of the voices and my lack of "training."
"I won't let her get to me. Mom, I won't let her do to me what he did to you...to us." I whimpered in the dark as I fell asleep on the floor."