𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ || 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑

08

~ phoenix ~

When dusk fell and the skies outside were an ominous black, I was being dragged back into the main hall.

The marble that had been stained crimson just hours ago now shone like nothing had ever happened. Her life had been erased so easily. No one would ever know the girl with big blue eyes and golden curls existed.

Biting back I sob, I stared down at my feet, eyes glassy.

But us? I was sure no one in this line would forget she existed. Not that easily. Even the shame in our semi-nakedness couldn't drown out the painful sorrow.

Despite the humidity of the room, I felt brutally exposed and cold in my revealing attire. The lingerie consisted of a black bralette, floral and lacy, and a matching thong, that was very low-rise. Although I tried to protest, the cruel matrons had other ideas. I was stripped naked and thrust under a scalding stream of water.

Obviously, they had seen my mark of loyalty to the Russian mafia. The tattoo was exposed at my hip. Nonetheless, it seemed the women did not know what it meant or they chose to ignore it.

Their greedy hands stole everything - my sneakers, my playsuit, even my small earrings. Luckily I'd seen this treatment with girls taken before me. Hastily, I ripped off my rings and hid them beneath my tongue.

Now, the metal pieces were stuffed in my bralette, in case I'd accidentally swallow them.

Apparently, even makeup was mandatory. Black eyeshadow was smeared messily onto my eyelids and a sticky gloss coated my lips. Resisting the urge to swipe the disgusting substance away, I clenched my fists by my side.

My blue hair was let loose, falling around my shoulders. Thankfully, it did something to cover my bare back and neck.

The auction had already begun. The queue of women had disappeared into the stage ahead and even stretched far behind me. I was somewhere in the middle, anxiously awaiting my turn. Every now and then, I'd hear loud jeers echo in the cold hallways. We were completely silent. Those who dared to even mutter were slapped harshly by one of the leering guards.

With every glance around me, I saw frightened faces. Some were smothered with rage. Most riddled with fatigue. I wasn't sure what I looked like.

Minutes turned into hours. The soles of my feet ached horribly from standing on the hard tiles for so long. There was a point when I couldn't decide what was worse: dying here on my feet or dying out there.

Just as my eyes began to droop, a familiar voice whispered: "Lyra!"

Spinning, I found Vera's face staring at me.

I looked uncertainly around for watching guards. I was next to go onto the stage and I didn't want to be presented with a red handprint on my cheek. But her gaze was no longer trained on my face but at my hip.

She gasped. "You're—"

A rough hand caught my arm, dragging me into a blinding light. Immediately, I felt the eyes of a hundred eyes pierce my bare flesh, hungrily like wolves. A blindfold was pulled around my eyes, blinding me.

Instinctively, my hands rose to remove the obstruction but I snatched them away when they were hit by a hard object. The backs of my knuckles ached painfully as I rubbed them. The constricting material was soaked by panicked tears.

"Quindi qui abbiamo una bellezza russa, allevata da quegli stessi bastardi," a man screamed into a microphone behind me. [So here we have a Russian beauty, bred by those bastards themselves]