Defect of Servitude [Book #1]

➽Two: Auction

"We are all broken, that's how the light gets in."
-Ernest Hemingway

The room was suffused with an oppressive silence, broken only by the steady ticking of a clock that had become all too familiar over the past year. I stood at attention, my posture rigid and practiced—a result of countless hours of grueling training. Today was the day I'd dreaded: the day of the auction.

The woman I had been a year ago was now a distant memory, replaced by someone else entirely. The fear that once clung to me like a shadow had been buried deep, masked by a façade of obedience. I had learned to keep my emotions tightly controlled, knowing that any sign of defiance would be met with swift and brutal punishment.

The door to my tiny room creaked open, and a handler stepped inside. He didn't speak; he didn't have to. We both knew what today meant. As I followed him down the dimly lit corridor, my mind raced with the horrifying possibilities of what lay ahead.

I recalled past conversations with the other thralls as they discussed auction day, comparing the creatures who would one day be our masters. They all had different opinions on who would be the worst.

288 claimed that Wickeds were the most terrifying since their servants existed only to provide body parts for their arcane curses. They never survived more than a month. I'm not afraid of death; I was conditioned to accept it as a work hazard.

284 was terrified of Werewolves because their servants were used for breeding purposes. Female werewolves became infertile during their transformation and needed human mates to carry on the bloodlines. I'm not afraid of breeding; I've been conditioned to accept and submit to all commands of my Master.

287 wouldn't say much to anyone except during these discussions. She would take anything but not a Succubus. Succubi used their chattel as bait to lure their prey into a trap. The servants had to sit in the shadows and watch their Master seduce every ounce of soul until there was nothing left. I'm not afraid of witnessing horrible things; I've been conditioned to endure situations others could never imagine.

No, the Vampires caused me the most trepidation—not that I would ever voice such an opinion. We were not allowed to have opinions. If we were caught discussing a future Master in such a distasteful tone, the punishment would be severe.

Vampires kept their property the longest. Their servants were forced to feed the masters and obey commands without hesitation. Vampires had venom that could make one feel as if they were burning from the inside out for hours if they disobeyed in any manner—or if a vampire simply decided they wanted to inflict pain. They would bleed their servants or make them beg for death. Vampires never let a person die until they were too fragile with age to continue working after a feeding. That's a long life. I'm terrified of a long life.

It had been an extensive time since simple fear could cause my heart to pound, but that thought caused it to beat erratically. The handler must have smelled it. Before I could blink, he was right in my face, smiling in a way that held no happiness. The corners of his mouth stretched far enough to reveal his jagged teeth in perfect detail.