The dabloon game

Where to start

I was loved but not for long. Their cries will echo like the eclipse of a sun. My mind races with the pain of the thoughts of them. I lived and they didn't.

So where to begin. I suppose you wonder who or what I am, but that is for you to wonder and for me to store.
My name is forbidden in these parts, so I shall change it slightly to help my identity remain hidden.
To begin, I suppose I should start with my childhood.
Born into the wealthy family from the old country. We were content. I had siblings though I remember them not. Father was away most of my life there and I rarely saw mother. She was a sad romantic figure who would drink till her face was blue. Her idea of love was a large bottle and one of the gardeners. I used to admire her but her neglect of me and the others made me the monster I am. They were fun at first, at least seven of us altogether however as life kept going I realised I was unique. At first it was the way I was looked at by the servants but I realised it was not me but rather my worth.
One summer morning, I remember it clear as day, there was a knock at the door. Father was off somewhere with some fling or with work or perhaps both. Mother was drunk already at quater past eleven. We were playing together as usual. Then it happened. It must have been bribery or conspiracy but whatever it was I realised quickly life here was over. A maid picked up the phone and quickly left the room. We heard mothers screams and cries. As the oldest, my brother ran to the yell I swiftly followed with my younger sisters hand in mine. The maid was comforting mother while a butler quickly brushed us aside. A glass was broken on the floor and wine had splashed on the white tablecloth. "He's dead" mother sobbed. "Hush hush" said the maid "the children will hear". Looking back I remember things clearer. The economy had been rocky. Riots had erupted nation wide and on the newspaper, the picture of the kings open casket funeral which in itself had been bombed.
I sat on a bench in the dim hallway, the lights slowly flickering. I held a stuffed toy in one hand and let the other drape loosely over my lap.

Then it happened:
A double knock at the door which must have been a password bellowed through the halls. A split second later the door burst in. The servants who got in the way were shot. Black bullets spun through the air as they pelted their limp lifeless bodies. I remember the screams. Mine, theirs, mothers. All of them. Mother was grabbed, "TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW" a man in armour shouted
She sat there blissfully unaware, tears staining her cotton dress. A gun was put to her head but she only smiled. Then, realising the ineffectiveness, he aimed the sniper at the youngest. Mothers eyes darted around the room before quickly smashing the wine bottle on the mans head only for another solider to quickly snap her neck from behind. The youngest screamed and ran towards him and a bullet scarred her skull. She fell. I didn't move. I couldn't move. I was vaguely approaching six, I guess I was old enough to live. "He and those two can live" a rough voice huffed. My arm was grabbed viciously and thrust around a small cuff as were my older brother and sister. I turned as I was marched out to see guns pressed against their heads. I gulped and twisted to see the fallout but the door was closed. The remaining staff made a run for it, carrying our elegant expensive possessions with them.
Then came the fire. Beautiful flames leapt up at the grand building. I was struck by the beauty of it yet I could feel the tears streaming down my face. I was thrust into a large van along with the olders. My home, my life was burning before my eyes.

An eternity later we arrived. Immediately blindfolded and taken to separate cells already full of others. My auburn hair floppy over one eye. I looked like a girl I thought to my self. The children with me screaming and crying for help. I just lay in the back. Legs crossed. Hands on my ears. Tears dried and cracked on my skin. I had lost.

The next morning, dirty, hungry and thirsty, I was picked. A grimy old man clasped a chain around my hands and tugged my away. Now I screamed. "HELP" "I NEED HELP, SOMEONE SAVE ME" in response I got a large wack on my skull and fell to the floor. The man pulled me up, tied on a blindfold and I was marched to a courtyard full of rich shady looking merchants and a few other people, young and old alike arranged on a platform. I was lead up here and within seconds the bids came flooding in.
The sign in front of me read

"Alister Cadell: son of Gofson Cadell. Age: 5 years 9 months. Starting price: 700 dabloons" this currency stuck out to me, a dabloon? What was that? We used the currency of gaunts. An equal and fair system father says. Said.
A few minutes and I was sold for 780 dabloons.
My chain unbuckled and passed to an older woman with a tattoo under her eye. I stared up at her and was met with a cold and unforgiving gaze. She smacked me across my cheek. I instinctively put my hand up to my face but found I couldn't. The weight of the chain and the womans hand ensured I would not do this.
"You are A46 now. I expect good behaviour and silence from you. If I do not get this than you shall loose your tongue and perhaps more" she spat slowly. I simply stared back to which she grunted and dragged me away.
Hours later I found myself in a chair in a cold cellar. My head shaved and in a silver jumpsuit. I was no longer me, I was now a slave cog in the machine of the dabloon empire.
This is where it began,
This is where Alister dies and A46 was born.