Note: Okay, next chapter. Like I said before, I hope this chapter isn't too rushed. -.-"
Also, these are just four moments Pallum remembers from her life as a slave.
And sorry if this isn't the longest chapter I've done.
Her glow illuminated the auction cell she was currently filling.
Pallum was cuffed to the floor. Her ankles were locked to the floor, forcing her to kneel. Her hands cuffed together, making the only comfortable way to hold them was to clasp them together.
Her jailers thought this was a funny idea. To make her appear to be praying to her long-lost son.
Her ears twitched. They were nearing her sell-number. She sighed, hanging her head and resting her hands in her lap.
She felt like a shell. A hollow cavity of her former self. She felt no emotion. She had been apathy toward all who had talked to her.
She looked up blankly as the door opened.
Clowar walked in, striding over and kneeling before her.
"Yes?" She asked blandly, eyes hooded.
He took her hands and rubbed them. "I-I sorry, Pallum…I'll get you out."
She snorted, pulling her hands free. "And why would you do such a thing? I'm just 'the bitching mother of revolution', remember?"
He took her hands more roughly this time. Then he reached up and had her look him in the eyes.
"Flush at first sight." He rumbled, then rose and left.
She stared after him, expressionless. He paused at the door and stared at her wistfully before leaving.
Then they called her number. The door opened again and the bluebloods dragged her out. She didn't fight.
What was there left to fight for?
They stood her in the center of the stage. The auctioneer gestured to her, droning off some things about her. Not that she listened. She just looked down at her hands.
"Fiwe hundred gold." Came the call.
She looked up. Dualscar raised his weapon, smirking over at the Grand Highblood, who stood next to him. She frowned; most slaves didn't go that high. Especially lowblooded ones.
"Fine." Clowar snorted. "Seven hundred gold."
Oh. That was he meant. He'd "get her out" be buying her. She growled softly. Why hadn't they just culled her? That was a fate better than this.
"Eight hundred gold." The sea-dweller growled.
"Nine hundred and fifty gold." The juggulo shrugged.
"A thousand gold."
"Thousand and fifty."
"Thousand and twwo hundred gold."
"Thousand and five hundred."
"Twwo thousand gold!" The sea-dweller marched up the auctioneer and smirked. "In cash."
She paled as Clowar frowned. The clown had lost.
"Sold to Kirtoz Dualscar Ampora!" The tealblooded auctioneer grinned, taking the money happily.
As he walked over to her, she felt what was left of her heart crumble in despair.
She was doomed.
~000~
Dualscar nuzzled her neck, nibbling on it seductively.
She stared ahead, not responding.
The sea-dweller thought he was red for her, but he wasn't. And even if he truly was, she didn't reciprocate those feelings.
He pulled her against him, arms around her waist. He continued to nuzzle her, mumbling compliments into her hair.
She stared at nothing, arms hanging loosely at her sides.
They'd pailed many times. He'd forced her to do many times, trying to find something red inside her, but she did nothing save fill the pail. Oh, how often he got mad and beat her ruthlessly for not doing anything in return.
But he couldn't make her. And so she never would return anything.
~000~
She crouched in her cell, holding herself and covering her half exposed body, her clothes shredded.
At first, she'd rejoiced in Mindfang rescuing her from Dualscar. But that quickly faded. The spider-troll was much worse than Dualscar.
The Marquise could make her feel things she didn't. And when she fought too much, she'd be forced to relive her son's death.
She hated both of them.
Mindfang, much like her kismesis, though she was flushing for the jadeblood.
Both of them are desperate fools. She thought, leaning against the wall. Desperate fools who wish for someone to feel red for.
"Flush at first sight."
The words rang through her head and she jolted upright. Maybe Clowar would've been better than these two pirates. He certainly was gentle and kind enough when they had interacted.
Pallum sighed, leaning against the wall.
She just wanted to be free of this wretched life.
~000~
She stood before him. His gun pressed against her middle, where so long ago she'd be stabbed.
Dualscar smiled sadly and kissed her lips. And then frowned when she didn't return it.
She stared at him blankly, waiting.
Do it. She begged inwardly. Pull the trigger. End me.
"I'm sorry it has to be this wway, lass." He mumbled. "You wwere alwways me faworite."
Pain shot through her and blood splattered both the deck behind her and him. She fell to her knees, groping at the gaping hole in her middle.
Then she laughed, tears of joy and agony running down her face.
He stared at her in disbelief as she toppled over and grabbed his boot.
"Thank you…Thank you…S…So much…" She whispered, blood leaking from her moth.
And then she went limp. Her life drained away once again.
But this time, permanently so.
