(A/N: Taa-daa. Here I be with chapter three. Thanks for the lovely reviews! ^^
The Mouse: Glad you like the story so far. ^^
Kimbra-fire: I know what you mean about them randomly selecting stories to delete. O_o;;; It's like they have a quota about how many people they have to suspend...And I'm glad that you liked the fic enough to re-read it! ^^
Now, on with the fic!)
Dawn of Terror
Chapter 3: Cry of the Slaver
Emily looked up, startled by the sudden blast of cold air from outside. An elderly man walked into the small office, shutting out the icy wind with the door. His face was molded in an angry mask- hardy and proud. He wore no hat and his slivery hair still grew in thick, despite his age, tumbling down to his broad shoulders. Several angry scars stood out, pale on his tanned face. He wore a long black overcoat and black leather shoes. Leather driving gloves covered thick hands. Yet, most strange of all, was the hue of his eyes- a red that hovered between mocha and flame crimson.
His stare remained fixated on the red-haired girl, even as he dug in the overcoat pocket for his wallet. Finally, retrieving the item, he threw a wad of paper bills onto the desk. The money skidded across the papers, landing finally, in the startled girl's lap. She chanced another glance up and her eyes grew wide as she recognized. "G-general H-hiwatari. S-sir. M-may I h-help you?"
She stumbled to her feet, making a clumsy bow to the respected war veteran. He snorted. "I'm here for that slave Mrs. Miasoki [1] promised our household."
Emily stumbled to the door. "R-right this way, S-sir."
He whisked by her, and then, she scurried after him. "I-in here," she stuttered, gesturing grandly to a white door on the right.
She flung it open and instantly, pathetic wails of sorrow flooded the hallway. "Bah! Shut them up, the noisy brats!"
He waved his hand furiously as if to dismiss the abundance of children in the room. Emily stuck two of her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. "Listen up!" barked the blue-eyed girl, glaring at the roomful of expectant faces."You have a visitor, so be polite and maybe one of you will get out of here!"
The ex-General mumbled something, then reluctantly followed Emily into the now silent room. He paced the room, arms tucked behind his back, inspecting each child as if he was inspecting a soldier. All the while, the room was silent, save for the heavy click of the man's shoes and the occasional sniffle from one of the more firgthened children. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned back to Emily, exclaiming loudly, "Is this all you have?!"
His voice thundered and some of the children cowered. "N-no, Sir. Of course not. Please, follow me."
She scurried off down the hall, opening another door, revealing another roomful of children. This sequence of events was repeated several times. The ex-General was growing impatient. "Honestly, I have seen finer slaves in the hospital," he scoffed as Emily tugged open another door.
"This is the final room," she stated blandly, gesturing for him to enter.
General Hiwatari strode into the deathly silent rom, critically eyeing rows upon rows of glass-sided cradles. He turned to Emily, anger blazing in his eyes. "I ask for slaves and you give me INFANTS?! What kind of fool do you take me for?!"
Emily cowered in the doorframe. One or two of the sleeping babes stirred and began to cry. "Well? What kind of idiot do you think I am? Answer me, young lady!"
The twelve-year old girl quivered, then turned her attention to the other end of the room. The door clicked open and Judy let herself in, carrying their newest patient- the tiny neko-jin boy who had been used for product testing at a cosmetics company. Judy looked at them, then smiled. "General Hiwatari. Good to see you. May I help you?"
The black-clad man flung an accusing finger in Emily's direction. "This wench has made me tour your facility! I ask of you now, do you have anything suitable for work in my household?!"
Judy placed the sleeping creature into a vacant cradle. "You've seen rooms one through five?"
Hiwatari nodded. "I suppose, then, we have nothing for you."
She sighed deeply. "I am sorry to have disappointed you."
She absently stroked the child's back as she spoke, soothing his restless sleep. Hiwatari's expresion changed slightly. "How old is he?"
He nodded towards the raven-haired child. "Him?" Judy asked, surprised. "Three."
"Three. How much?"
Judy chuckled. "I'm sorry, Sir. He's not for sale right now. He's still too sick to-"
"Did you not hear me, Mrs. Miasoki? I asked you for a price. I will ask you again, how much is he?"
Judy frowned. "General Hiwatari, you mistake me. He's not for sale."
"Woman, do you forget that you owe me your son's life- his freedom?"
Judy paled a little. "No, Sir. Of course I haven't-"
"Then pay your debts. I expect him in gift wrap, with a red ribbon, none the less."
"Sir, the child is too sick-"
"Tch. Judy, would you rather see Max in chains? Would you sacrifice your own son for a NEKO-JIN?"
Judy remained silent. He smirked. "I thought not."
Judy turned to Emily, crestfallen. "Have him cleaned up and dressed accordingly."
She turned back to Hiwatari. "I will have him delivered for seven o'clock, Sir. But mark my words, he will die within a week and your money and your excuse of debt will have been wasted."
He chuckled, somehow finding amusement in her graveness. "My dear Judy, if he dies, no one shall ever recall the fact he lived."
[a/N: The chapters should be getting longer...O_O;;;;]
The Mouse: Glad you like the story so far. ^^
Kimbra-fire: I know what you mean about them randomly selecting stories to delete. O_o;;; It's like they have a quota about how many people they have to suspend...And I'm glad that you liked the fic enough to re-read it! ^^
Now, on with the fic!)
Dawn of Terror
Chapter 3: Cry of the Slaver
Emily looked up, startled by the sudden blast of cold air from outside. An elderly man walked into the small office, shutting out the icy wind with the door. His face was molded in an angry mask- hardy and proud. He wore no hat and his slivery hair still grew in thick, despite his age, tumbling down to his broad shoulders. Several angry scars stood out, pale on his tanned face. He wore a long black overcoat and black leather shoes. Leather driving gloves covered thick hands. Yet, most strange of all, was the hue of his eyes- a red that hovered between mocha and flame crimson.
His stare remained fixated on the red-haired girl, even as he dug in the overcoat pocket for his wallet. Finally, retrieving the item, he threw a wad of paper bills onto the desk. The money skidded across the papers, landing finally, in the startled girl's lap. She chanced another glance up and her eyes grew wide as she recognized. "G-general H-hiwatari. S-sir. M-may I h-help you?"
She stumbled to her feet, making a clumsy bow to the respected war veteran. He snorted. "I'm here for that slave Mrs. Miasoki [1] promised our household."
Emily stumbled to the door. "R-right this way, S-sir."
He whisked by her, and then, she scurried after him. "I-in here," she stuttered, gesturing grandly to a white door on the right.
She flung it open and instantly, pathetic wails of sorrow flooded the hallway. "Bah! Shut them up, the noisy brats!"
He waved his hand furiously as if to dismiss the abundance of children in the room. Emily stuck two of her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. "Listen up!" barked the blue-eyed girl, glaring at the roomful of expectant faces."You have a visitor, so be polite and maybe one of you will get out of here!"
The ex-General mumbled something, then reluctantly followed Emily into the now silent room. He paced the room, arms tucked behind his back, inspecting each child as if he was inspecting a soldier. All the while, the room was silent, save for the heavy click of the man's shoes and the occasional sniffle from one of the more firgthened children. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned back to Emily, exclaiming loudly, "Is this all you have?!"
His voice thundered and some of the children cowered. "N-no, Sir. Of course not. Please, follow me."
She scurried off down the hall, opening another door, revealing another roomful of children. This sequence of events was repeated several times. The ex-General was growing impatient. "Honestly, I have seen finer slaves in the hospital," he scoffed as Emily tugged open another door.
"This is the final room," she stated blandly, gesturing for him to enter.
General Hiwatari strode into the deathly silent rom, critically eyeing rows upon rows of glass-sided cradles. He turned to Emily, anger blazing in his eyes. "I ask for slaves and you give me INFANTS?! What kind of fool do you take me for?!"
Emily cowered in the doorframe. One or two of the sleeping babes stirred and began to cry. "Well? What kind of idiot do you think I am? Answer me, young lady!"
The twelve-year old girl quivered, then turned her attention to the other end of the room. The door clicked open and Judy let herself in, carrying their newest patient- the tiny neko-jin boy who had been used for product testing at a cosmetics company. Judy looked at them, then smiled. "General Hiwatari. Good to see you. May I help you?"
The black-clad man flung an accusing finger in Emily's direction. "This wench has made me tour your facility! I ask of you now, do you have anything suitable for work in my household?!"
Judy placed the sleeping creature into a vacant cradle. "You've seen rooms one through five?"
Hiwatari nodded. "I suppose, then, we have nothing for you."
She sighed deeply. "I am sorry to have disappointed you."
She absently stroked the child's back as she spoke, soothing his restless sleep. Hiwatari's expresion changed slightly. "How old is he?"
He nodded towards the raven-haired child. "Him?" Judy asked, surprised. "Three."
"Three. How much?"
Judy chuckled. "I'm sorry, Sir. He's not for sale right now. He's still too sick to-"
"Did you not hear me, Mrs. Miasoki? I asked you for a price. I will ask you again, how much is he?"
Judy frowned. "General Hiwatari, you mistake me. He's not for sale."
"Woman, do you forget that you owe me your son's life- his freedom?"
Judy paled a little. "No, Sir. Of course I haven't-"
"Then pay your debts. I expect him in gift wrap, with a red ribbon, none the less."
"Sir, the child is too sick-"
"Tch. Judy, would you rather see Max in chains? Would you sacrifice your own son for a NEKO-JIN?"
Judy remained silent. He smirked. "I thought not."
Judy turned to Emily, crestfallen. "Have him cleaned up and dressed accordingly."
She turned back to Hiwatari. "I will have him delivered for seven o'clock, Sir. But mark my words, he will die within a week and your money and your excuse of debt will have been wasted."
He chuckled, somehow finding amusement in her graveness. "My dear Judy, if he dies, no one shall ever recall the fact he lived."
[a/N: The chapters should be getting longer...O_O;;;;]