Scales and Tales

Part 1

I can taste it.

The metallic tang of blood fills my mouth as I bit down on my tongue, holding back a choked scream, while they kicked, clawed, punched at every bit of me they could. Their first big enough to wrap around and crush my throat like it was a water bottle

They haven't stopped beating me, crushing me into a small, weak state, all because I wanted out. To go home.

I shouldn't of stepped insight of one of those monsters, I know that.

Hindsight is 20/20 after all.

Once they stopped kicking in my stomach, they dragged me back into the cramped cubby they called my cage. A ratted, moldy blanket and heavily rusted metal bowl greeted me as I landed on them, head first. I didn't cry. They would of dragged me back out if I did, and "teach me another lesson".

I watched the bruises and felt the sharp pain in my ribs fade away as the twisted magic of this place kicked in, my damp eyes quickly drying up.

I haven't cried in a long time. There's no need, one's going to hold me, tell me that everything will go back to normal, because there's no normal here. Just pain, suffering, and the occasional crushed hope. The others leered at me through their bars, none of them spoke. They have seen the worst happen in here, young girls and boys dragged out to be used for the guards "Entertainment", where they force feed them a violent, viscous red liquid that makes you feel both extreme pleasure and pain, and knock up the dosage every hour until you foam at the mouth, then they pour shockingly cold water all over you as you fight for your life against the drug.

Then it's back in your cell, they don't want us dieing of course, they need us alive. Why? So that the ones who know we're here can take us to be whatever they want. It would be both a blessing and a curse to be taken from here.

We could end up in the home of someone who wants new decorations or servants in their homes. To be loyal pets, always at their back and call, only to be sent back once they're bored of us. Or we could be taken away to where we never come back, to be used as slaves or exotic specialties until we break.

I fear for the ones who never come back.

I pull my knees into my chest as I lie down on my smelly blanket, staring at the nothing between my bars. I can hear the shuffle of the other captives as they all settled back down from the chaos, the show clearly over.

I back track my thoughts, trying to figure out what went wrong. I know I managed to grab one of the lock keys off the belt of a guard, the lumbering oaf didn't even notice. I waited until I know no guards would be near enough to my cell to see what I was doing, and quickly opened it to get out. I raced to where all the new people came in, as all those giant freaks came in that way, and pushed the door open enough to slip through. Then I ran past several guards, hiding behind what I could. Then, right as I almost got to the entrance, a man stepped in, tallest I had ever seen. He towered over me, and I'm not a tall person myself. His horns add at least a foot to his already impossible height, curved up and back over his head. I hid near one of back doors as he walked towards one of the desk in the front, being careful enough not to scream as he started to get closer.  Chills ran down my spine, I had to get out of there, so I raced to the door, not noticing the oaf I stole from walking in my direction.  I heard him yell, fear crept into my brain as I forced myself to run faster. The door was almost in my reach, I thought I could make it.

I never did.

He grabbed the back of my head, pulling me back by my hair. I let out a yell as he wrestled me to the ground, trying to claw at his hands so he'd let me go. He yelled at some others to help get me to the back and for someone to help the customer as I fought with all I had. They got me back, obviously, but I wasn't giving up. This is only my seventh attempt, I'll make it on my eighth. I have to.

I clutched the corners of my blanket closer to my face, covering my eyes and flip over to face the back wall. I don't want to be here, no one does. I don't notice when the murmur of voices gets louder as one of the guards is bringing someone to the back.

"These are our rescues, they aren't purebreds like the others, but a few of them sure are lookers. All of them found on the streets of the earth." Sure, "rescues", not as if you stole us from our homes away from our friends and family only to be stuck here for weeks.

"Here's a good one. Male, at least 26 years, Hispanic mix. He-"

"26 you say?"
I freeze up at the sound of that voice. A buyer. He's taking one of us home. Oh no.

"Yessir, we believe so, or that's what his teeth say. He could be older, although-"

"What about any females? I hear they are more evenly tempered."

I heard the guard scoff. "Evenly tempered? Sure, if you fix them so they don't get children. Females are more likely to bite you just as likely they are play with you. They're a mix bag, especially rescues."

"What about this one? She seems neutral." I could feel someone's eyes on the back of my head, as they tried to guesstimate how I would act. I stay as still as I can as the door to my cell opens up, and a hand reaches in to pet my hair.

"I'd be careful with that one, she like to make a ruckus and break out every once in awhile. I believe you witnessed that earlier." The guard commented. Wait, "witnessed"? That means-

"You're right. And I would like to take her." I bolt upright as his hand moved away, hitting my head on the roof of my cell, and whipped around to face him. He sharp golden eyes pierced through mine as he reached for my face. I batted his hand away, and pulled closer to the back corner.

"No." I gasped "Please, no." My voice raspy from disuse. He smiled softly, his sharp teeth barely visible in the bad lighting.

"What's the matter darling? Scared of little ole me?" He laughed. I couldn't stop shaking, chills raked my body as another guard came in with a collared leash. This is not happening. I couldn't even get the chance to run as I felt the thick leather collar brush around my neck, thick enough to choke me if I pulled away.

Everything thing was a blur, my heart was racing as he signed papers, hand out strange coins, and have me pulled along, always by his side.

I was bought.

Like a pet.