Disclaimer: I do not own MR.

Chapter Six: Sold

"Single line. Don't try anything," the burly guard warns as the extravagantly dressed girls line up in the corridor. Our surroundings are lavish, mainly decorated in red. The corridor is lined with heavy drapes and I wonder why so much effort has gone into decorating this place.

The line inches forward. I am last and therefore I have the most time to worry about what is to come. I come close to making a run for it, but I know I will be caught. A guard moves closer to me, as if sensing my intentions. The hope that Fang will miraculously save me is at the back of my mind. But I shouldn't hold my breath.

Finally, it is my turn. I know I should not be relieved, but I feel it is better to face a known fear than a fear unknown.

"Go in, stand on the platform and do whatever they tell you to," the door guard says gruffly before the doors swing open and I'm pushed inside.

I stumble in my heels, but catch myself before I face plant. The room is round, with eight tinted windows. I can barely see the shapes of people behind each of the windows, as if each of them is a room. The whole room is cast with a red glow.

I make my way to the platform and gingerly climb up.

After a minute an automated female voice speaks overhead.

"Maximum Ride. Undefeated. Five foot nine. Fifty kilograms. Bidding starts at 100,000 dollars."

There is a pause, and then a creepy computerised voice – male this time – comes over the speaker.

"Turn left please."

I turn in reaction to the voice and stare at the window, where I can vaguely make out a shadow of a large man.

I shudder.

This is when I start to notice red lights above each window start to blink. There is silence while I turn to face each window, trying desperately to see who is inside each room. But it's futile and I have to wait to learn who has bought my fate.

Finally, all the lights stop. There has been some sort of silent bidding war, where each flash of a red light is another bid. I have no idea which window has won and I have no idea what price I was sold for.

I start to shake with fear. This is really happening. In a few moments, I will be at the mercy of a complete stranger, subject to his every will and desire. I cannot bear to think about it. The situation is really starting to set in.

A door opens. I head towards it, assuming it is for me. A guard appears to escort me to my destination.

"You know," the guard says as he places a hand on my waist, assumedly to lead me. "When you're finished tonight, you can always come find me. I'm sure I'll give you a more pleasurable time." He leers at me.

I curl my fist, but refrain from punching him in the face. I just grit my teeth in reply.

"Suit yourself. If you change your mind, just ask for Sam." He has the nerve to laugh. Then he slides his hand from my waist to my behind.

I lose it.

I grab his wrist and twist. He lets out a little squeal before I let his hand go. His eyes are full of anger, and he swiftly backhands me across the face. I wince and spit blood onto the ground. I gingerly touch my tongue to my lip, where the skin is split and swollen. He grabs my arms and forces them behind my back. For a second I worry that he will do something truly terrifying to me, but nothing happens.

He leads me to a restaurant. Inside, the sound of clinking cutlery dominates. This is a well-established restaurant with only wealthy patrons. I feel tiny and insecure in comparison.

At the back of the restaurant is a private booth. Red seems to be the theme tonight as I study the cushioned seats and tablecloth. I do not dare to meet the eyes of the man already seated at the table. There is no doubt in my mind that he is my master for the night.

Maybe I can steal a steak knife and plunge it into his black soulless heart.

"Look at me, child. I like to see the eyes of my prizes."

My hands clench into fists. I will not be one of his victims. Slowly, I raise my eyes to his. He is a large man with a very plain face. He is very forgettable. I know why he's paid so much money to own a girl for the night. His eyes are dull brown, his hair a stringy white. He has got to be at least three times my age.

"Take a seat, child. Dinner will be served shortly." He pauses, studying me with perceived concern. "What happened to your face?"

I refuse to answer.

I perch on the edge of the booth just as a plate of steak as big as my head is placed in front of me. I don't hesitate to eat it. I have been ravenous ever since I arrived at this God forsaken place.

"It is my understanding that your name is Maximum. My name is Wayne," the man says casually as we eat. I wonder if he feels obligated to feed me before he rapes me, like some twisted date.

"How much did you pay for me?" I ask, morbidly curious.

His lips twist into a half-smile.

"Quite a lot, but you are worth every dollar."

"Gee, thanks," I say, finishing off the last piece of meat. I have eaten in a record amount of time. Good ole Wayne is only a quarter of the way done.

"I can see why he likes you," Wayne says with a chuckle.

"Who?"

Wayne stiffens, and then relaxes. "The Director, of course. Who else?" But I know he is keeping something from me.

"So, you seem to be eager to get out of here," he says, indicating my empty plate. "Does that mean you're keen for dessert?"

I gulp, suddenly realising that I should definitely not be rushing my meal. Not at all. I drop my cutlery and it clatters onto the plate. The word dessert has so many connotations – unpleasant ones in this case. So I am very surprised when the waiter brings out a slice of cheesecake. My mouth waters at the sight, but I make sure to take my time.

However, I can only drag it out for so long.

"So," Wayne says with a smile, placing his napkin on the table after he's wiped his mouth. "Shall we head to the bedroom?"

I think I'm going to be sick.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short! But I promise to make up for it in the next chapter. It will be uploaded by the end of the week at the latest!