Off With Their Heads | FOUR | 6 Underground

CHAPTER 1: Monsters

Spare me the tale of the monstrous beings that walk this earth. The men who have treasures in their castles and women hanging of one of their arms, while the empty one supports the weight of a gun pointed at a poor person's head. All of them who feed on the blood and suffering of others. Those who love having so much while many have nothing. 

The mansion atop the hill stood out from the dark of the night as spotlights from all different angles presented it like a trophy. The couple who owned it took great pride in what they had. All the cars and the property shouted 'look at us and all our money.' and they would not have it any other way. Most people of wealth were like this, life was plainly that, to be, and to show to others that they were better. Old money was a perk, but it was sure as hell easy to lose, and they knew they had to keep up the status no matter what, even if it meant that the old money turned dirty.

The couple's pristine and elegant clothes did not belong in that dingy warehouse, their shoes made of the finest leather, clean and free of any imperfections padded on the filthy floor, probably contaminated by urine and human excrement. The smell was atrocious and the wealthy couple could only scrunch their faces, ready to leave immediately. The woman tightened her hold on her husband's arm, and he squeezed her reassuringly as they entered the den. 

They were met by a bunch of men scattered amongst the floor. Some of them looking through the cells. The others conversing with beers grasped in their hands. The supervisor, a man with tattoos on his face and arms walked towards them, offering a smile that tried to be welcoming but only played as sinister. 

" Aaahhhh... Mr. and Mrs. Abrahams, have you come to check the merchandise?" anyone would be unnerved from hearing Logan's voice, he had a posh accent that was calm but had an evil undertone. He stretched out his arms to the couple as if guiding them to walk forward. They took careful steps through the halls of cells, it looked like a dog shelter, the smell could definitely make you think that, but there were no dogs, there were people. You could hear the quiet murmurs, whimpering some of them even crying. 

Most of them were women and children, there were only a few men, their bodies thin and frail, proof of how little they were fed. Their eyes dazed and hollow, emotions wild and yet dull. If the smell of it all couldn't make your stomach churn, the sight will. Logan had went on to walk in front of the couple, guiding them to a table that looked so out of place in the hallway. It was clean compared to everything else, even the man himself. A monitor sat on top, along with some files, Logan reached out and pushed the screen, so they could see. 

The screen glowed an eerie, nauseating green. it was riddled with names, people reduced to a name and a number, ready to be shipped to loyal customers around the world. This shipment had a lot of children. Many of which were ripped from poor families, stolen as they went out to play, and here they were now, to be sold off like cattle to a slaughter house. 

A loud clang of metal, signaled the opening of cell doors. Men hurried in, scaring the occupants, some even tried to push them back, as if they stood a chance. Their fatigued bodies could do nothing. Most let themselves be dragged out by their arms, hands willingly falling in the handcuffs. They were lined up behind the rich couple. They were facing their captors, the ones who have damned them to a life that no one deserved. They were the devils in disguise, under all that expensive fabric, were rotting hearts void of any remorse or guilt, because all the horror they create, keep them in a home big enough to be a castle, their garage filled with vehicles expensive enough to feed the entire city, their bellies full with the finest food money could buy. These excessive people, made all this, from people with nothing but their names. 

People always said that monsters were fictional, yet here they were, feeding off of the suffering of the innocent. The screen on the table heard everything, saw everything, knew all the horrors even if the person on the other side was kept from it all. The monsters were not out there to her, they weren't even under her bed, some of them were in her head, but the biggest ones were the ones that slept a few rooms away from hers. 

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The laptop that rested on her lap was thrown on the bed carelessly as the young girl hid her face on the pillow. Her green eyes welled up with tears, the streams not wanting to stop and her body shook against the robe she was clad in. She wept for all those people her parents were ruining, the number of lives that they had destroyed was despicable, and that number would only rise as time passes. More men, women and children will be sold, exploited, and many of them will die in the process. 

She lifted her head slightly and caught sights of herself in the giant mirror situated by the wall. Her dark hair a mess, green eyes wild, her heart on her sleeve, something that she rarely did. She stared at her reflection, she was ashamed that she looked so perfect in the room, despite her wild look, this was clearly where she belonged. In a clean room, a silk robe, a bed big enough to fit a dozen people and that frustrated her to no end. People were dying of hunger and thirst and here she was with such excess. 

Every thought that invaded her mind, pushed her into exhaustion, she fell back thinking of all those names and that was the last thought before she fell into unconsciousness.