Auctioned Off --Vampire's Slave-- {03} Once Upon A Time

    --Posted a journal entry with a crazy, but descriptive title. Please read, and if you don't, I don't care, you're still wonderful!, without further delay...--


           I was hot, too hot. Even though I felt myself floating over countless cool, moisture filled clouds, I was too hot. My lips couldn't, or more like wouldn't part and unleash the thousand screams built up deep down inside my core. Internally I felt tranquil and acepecting, like I could see anything, and take it all with a smile, yet at the very same time, my soul was being ripped apart by agony in torture's worst form.

                                              So This Is Death.

             If I was dead, surely I'd have to be in either heaven or hell. The pain that tore at me was more than enough to suggest hell, as was my increasing yearnings to scream, but my tranquility, the assurance I felt, the mere fact the I wouldn't scream; that I'd rather endure the massive torment the disturb the blank silence of the waves of whiteness all about me suggested otherwise. 

                                  I guess I had been a good person afterall.

          I lingered, feeling as thoygh I was floating on air as pain attacked every fiber of my being. Then I felt as if knowlege of the world was pouring like water from a pitcher into the empty goblet that was my mind. It was as if I had every detail of everything and understood none of it. Almost as though I was staring into someone else's life.

           I gasped as the below zero water was thrown onto me, interupting my R.E.M. Rudeness has become epidemic these days. As I slowly came, I could of, should of cried. I'd trade the sweet white nothing that I had experinced in my dream world for this dark hell dungeon in a heart beat. Even if it meant I had to be dead.

           "Aw, sleeping beauty as finally arisen!" Mr. Parrot said in mock surprise. My palm itched to slap the smug sneer off his putrid face. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he continued on. "I hope it wasn't my water that woke you, that would have been terribly rude!" He snickered with faux innocence. More than ever I wanted to kick the ugly bastard in the head.

          "Didn't your Auntie say not to talk to me?" I was surprised that I didn't have a gag covering my pie whole, but what truly surprised me was that I was even able to articulate with the fire still running a distressing path through my viens. "I think it went somewhere along the lines that I didn't deserve to hear your voice, and damn, I think she's right. No one deserves to hear your filithy-disgusting-nasty a**-voice. You should do the world a favor and cut your tongue out so no one has to hear you ever again!" Of course as I said this, I meant it, but I didn't expect him to do it.

                                                        He Did.

           He moved three paces toward, enough that my soppying wet self could smell his pugnant stench over all other stenches in my dismal habitat. With a flash of sliver, I felt his blade pressed down against my cheek. My heart wasn't foolish enough not to pound rapidly against my chest as his blade dance weaved about my face. In the next second it was to his own face inbewteen his open mouth and pressed down onto his own tongue.

            Blood seeped down over the blade and down his pointy, stubbly chin and I being so horridly transfixed by the horrrid sight, could not even think to look away. You know the feeling if you've ever seen any Saw movie, espically Saw IV espically Saw IV when they are preform the autopsy in the opening, you may squirm, bite down on your nails, maybe even squeal like a little piglet, I know I did, but you still watch. This is that was like, execpt real and even more disgustingly transfixing.

            When the slow process of him slicing through his own muscles was finto, blood coated his hand, mouth, nose and... my cheek. Yes that's right, the psychotic freak got in my face, grinning broadly and spat his hacked off tongue at. Naturally, I screamed bloody murder, only resulting in a laugh from Mr. Parrot.

                             Can people without tongue's laugh? 

            Apparently so, because as his former body part slid off of my cheek and onto the floor, leaving a trail of his warm blood on my chilly flesh, he WAS laughing.

           "Foolish girl, you have no idea what I am, do you?" At the horror on my face as the bloody lips moved and preformed audiable AND coherent syallables, he made an encore preformance of his cackle. "This is pirceless. I will enjoy watching this all very, very much." I think I can rule this guy out as human now.
 
       On the brightside, it explains why he is so unbearably hideous and his super swift regeneration healing abilty. On the not so brightside, it leaves the question, what in the world is he? Good thing I had already come up with a solution.

                                                 A Starfish.

         They have the ability to regenerate and they are NOT human, last I knew anyways. Therefore, it's a perfect fit. Maybe, once upon a time, a starfish thought a parrot was H-O-T hot, and they did it on a chemical wasteland and presto! Behold, Mr. Parrotfish! With this new discovery, I could win the Nobel Peace Prize or something. NOW THAT is alot of money, and obtained perfectly legally. If the freakish animals get abused well,... you can't blame me.
 
         So as I stood in timorousness, watching the tongueless laugh, give pock talk, then laugh once again, my favorite Auntie came into our grand party. Yet not before Parrotfish ceased his sniggering and set his face into a stony glower.

         In her manly hands was a short coiled rope, no doubt to bind my arms behind my back and march me to my death. I swallowed in my throat. If I was doomed to perish, I would do so nobly. I 'd accept my fate and handle it with grace.

                        Ah, to hell with that, I'll fight 'till my last breath.

           I did my best to withhold my smile as I came upon my epiphany. No matter the cost, I'd throw such a wruckus, I'd make sure these freaks would think four times over before kidnapping, killing and selling a girl to research again. Sadly, things never go the way I intend, or plan them to.

           Until this moment I was fairly certain that they were as smart as they were beautiful or an unsarcastic version, as dumb as they were ugly. It was as if they had read my mind and knew I was going down with a fight.  My punishment was a pre-chain release rope binding. I was bent in ways I never my body could physically accomodate unless I was a pilates robot. Oh, didn't you know? The only reason why they can bend as they do because they aren't human, they're robots.

         After my legs had been sucessfully bound together and my wrist tightly behind my back, my good o' pal 'mouth gag' was reinserted into my mouth. I can thank my sharp comments about cowardice for our emotion filled reunion. Instead of walking, or hopping, out of the cell like a normal prisoner did in all the movies, I thrown, oh, so delicately, over Mr. Parrotfish's large smelly shoulder. Every step he took, I am poistive that that he gave me an extra jolt with his, surprisngly muscular shoulder. 

                    I bet you twenty bucks this parrot-starfish hybrid uses steroids.

           We marched toward my impending annihilation painfully slow, each moment streched infintely as we passed countless cell doors like the ones I myself had been held in. I wonder, with horror, how many other people they had trapped in here like myself and how many of them came to the same realization as death as I did.

           Finally, we pranced up a set of door, through a corridor filled with blinding flourscent  light. I had to close my eyes to block out the pain it caused my dilated eyes. I kept them closed until I was uncermoniously dropped onto a slap of cold metal. 
 
           I was, obviously, no longer in the hallway and now within the confinement of a room. The room itself reminded me strongly of a doctor's examination room, blank white wall and no other color beside a silver sink and the metal exmination table I had been dropped on. Only Freezer Eyes was in the room with me. Fitting that the female kill me when the male kidnapped me.

                   Well, I always wanted to die in a hospital, close enough I guess. 

             In her hand was a washcloth. They had to bring me all the way up here just to smother me? Couldn't they have done that in my sleep? The moment she came close enough to me, I lunged, hurtling all my weight onto her. Unfortuantely, she was quicker than I orginanlly thought.
 
             She moved to the side just before are collosion leaving my body to crash into the nice soft and warm cement. And just to make me feel better than I already was, Auntie thrusted her legs into my ribs, the crack that filled the room was audibly sickening.
      
            "Patheic," She mumbled, kneeling to the ground where I was and bringing the cloth to my face. I closed my eyes, ready for death as I labored against my throbbing rib. Instead, it viscously attacked my face, scrubbing until I was sure the skin would peel away with each stroke. "I was hoping that was just dirt... sadly they're freckles." She breathed out. I could have killed her. I think I would known what the hell was on my face so before she tore all my skin off, I could of told the moron that uh, yeah, I have a few freckles on my nose and cheeks!

            What happened next was a blur in my now oxygen deprived bloodstream, vaguely I can recall being forced into something white and breezy, my legs freed and tugged around forever until I was handed off to a man with a large moustache, a golden tooth and a cowboy hat. He spoke quickly.

           "Starting price?" The Cowboy asked, I heard Icy Eyes mutter something then I was pushed out onto, what I guessed to be a wooden stage. Instantly I lowered my head, having my brown hair casade over my face to shield it from the direct sunlight boring down onto me. After hearing what sounded like a thousand people shuffling in their seats and mumurmings of excitement, I peered through my waves.

         "Shall we start the bidding for this prepossessing, flawless slave at fifty thousand?" I swear, next person to call me slave is going to get it. I couldn't see who the cowboy was talking to directly, but I could see there was a whole lot of them. "Ah, thank you sir, do I hear sixty thousand? Very good! Seventy? Yes, yes! Eighty? Very well! Ninety? Excellent! Dare I go to One hundred thousand?  Well done sir! Going once, going twice an-"
  
         "One hundred and fifty!" At the booming voice there was a curse of disapointment. 
       
         "Two hundred!" Cried out a crispy voice.

         "Two fifty!" Boomed the voice from before.
 
        "Three hundred!" Was the crispy voice.

        "Three fifty." It seemed the battle for me was only going on between the two, boomy voice and crispy voice. I suppose one of these was going ot have my lifeless body as a prize.

        "And three fifty for the lycan in the front." I know the crazy cowboy did not say lycan as in werewolf. Surely I misheard him, he must have said something else. There must have been cotton in my ears. Yeah, that's right. Cotton. I am sure now that he said 'the frogman in the front'. I'm positive "Final bid? Three hundred and fifty thousand going once-"
 
        "Five Hundred Thousand Dollars!" The voice which cried out sent a tremor of fear all throughout my body. Please god no, let someone else bid, please please, please. For no rational reason at all at just the sound of that man's voice I desperately wished to run away, scream and faint. I would have done the first two had my aching ribs permitted such a deed.

         "Five hundred thousand dollars, do I hear five hundred and fifty thousand? Fine specimen you're letting walk away men! Very well!" Stall you idiot! Stall!

         "Going Once," Please, anyone bid!

        "Going Twice," I begging you, Crispy, Boomy? Where are you on this?

        "And..." The world hates me.

       "SOLD FOR FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS TO THE VAMPIRE IN THE BLACK ARMANI SUIT!" I loud thud of a wooden mallet stricking a surface with might resounded my fate. "Sir if you'll come to the side of the stage and collect your prize with the money..." As they steered me away, there was only one thought on my mind, not that he said vampire, or armani suit hell not that I was sold for five hundred thousand dollars. It was how terrified I was at just hearing the voice of the guy that just bought me. I mean I haven't even seen him yet and I am trembling!

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                                         crap.