Chained Hearts

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Through the eyes of another

"It's this guy again?" A feminine voice asked. His head was swimming and Peeta couldn't form a coherent thought in his mind. The last thing he remembered was Darius nearly passing out from exhaustion and his yelling at the slave drivers before everything went black. His eyes refused to open and he couldn't move a muscle. "What did he do this time?"

"Rebelled against one of the drivers," a different voice replied. Cold fingers brushed some hair off his forehead and Peeta suppressed a shudder as every fibre of his being wanted to recoil against the touch. "Defended one of the other slaves who were working near death."

"Just can't seem to keep his mouth shut can he?" the first person sighed.

"Seems so," the second replied. "I think we should knock that one in the head."

"I think you're right."

A second later, a searing pain splashed across Peeta's cheek and his eyes snapped open as the slap burned it's way around his face, his head jerking to the side and his neck cracking in the process. How long had he been out?

When his eyes finally adjusted, Peeta was met by two women standing before him. He flew through an inventory in his mind and noted that his wrists were strapped to a table by his head and so were his ankles. Any form of escape was impossible, even for someone as determined as he was.

The owner of the first voice-a woman with sleek orange hair and a pointed face-shook her hand slightly, obviously having been the one who'd slapped him. "Do you know why you're here, slave?" she sneered.

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me," Peeta replied.

The second woman, a curvy blonde with hair that tumbled past her shoulders, sighed and rolled her eyes. "I told you, too much to say about everything Harper."

"You're here because you were born unclean," the orange woman-obviously Harper-explained. "And you were born to serve those worthy of it." Peeta fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd heard this speech a million times before. "You're supposed to be compliant and know your place."

"Which you obviously can't understand," the blonde put in. "What is it going to take to teach you to shut up?"

"I don't know, you're the expert," Peeta answered. "I mean, I'm a dumb slave, right? What do I know?"

Harper turned her nose up in disgust. "Didn't your owner teach you not to talk back?"

"You mean my mother? She taught me nothing," Peeta replied acidly. "Just how to receive the back end of a beating. She claimed the teaching was your job. Which you obviously haven't done very well."

"Jackson, get some of the duct tape," Harper said, her gaze never moving from Peeta. The blonde nodded and disappeared into the darkness. When she re-emerged, she had a roll of sliver tape in her hand. "Maybe this will finally shut you up." Harper took the tape and pulled it out, creating a loud riiiipppp that rang out in the otherwise empty room. Tearing a giant chunk off with her teeth, she tossed the roll back to Jackson. 

"Any last words slave?" she sneered. "I'd chose carefully. It'll be the last time you'll speak in a while."

Peeta glared, his face giving nothing of the frantic beating of his panicking heart away, his eyes hard as he stared Harper down. "You do not own me," he finally stated. Harper scowled and stuck the tape tightly over his mouth. 

"Extra adhesive," Harper said as if it needed explained. "Will stick for months on end." Peeta tried to move his mouth but it was so tightly pressed against it that he couldn't even breathe let alone speak. "You won't be speaking for a while, slave."