Chapter 1: Caged

The sunlight peeked through the cracked, grey wall, barely lighting up the dark cells that multiple slaves lived in. But if the slaves themselves were, to be honest - they were barely living. Thrown into dirty cells on cold floors with barely any sunlight, hardly fed, and overworked, even whipped if one small mistake was made.

They were all awake, awake before the slave traders were. They would rather work than hear the metal rod run through the bars of the cell gate - other than the tiring work, traveling, and selling themselves, hearing that metal ring sucked the life out of them, reminding them that they had to live another insufferable day in this Hell hole.

The main gate opened, and the sunlight from the outside illuminated the large warehouse, revealing the multiple cells of slaves, each being categorized by gender and age.

Dead eyes watched the three well-dressed men look at them with disgust as they walked by them, each of the three men holding a metal rod, impatiently tapping it on their hands, waiting for the perfect moment to use it on a pitiful slave.

"Wake up!" One of the men, a scrawny smuggler, harshly ordered at a malnourished child whose head rested on the cell bars. The boy didn't move, his dark skin seeming greyish instead of a warm brown that indicated life. The man clicked his tongue and unlocked the cell door before entering and grabbing the child by its arm with his left hand.

The already silent slaves from inside and neighboring cells glared at the man and how he poorly and harshly handled the corpse. The man blankly stared at the child, looking intently at his face, "Too bad, a product wasted and left for death to get hold of." he said before handing the corpse to the men at the entrance, earning disgusted stares from each cell, stares that flew above his head. "Give this child mercy and throw his body into the forest for the beasts to eat." He then instructed before turning around to walk further into the warehouse, letting the other men manhandle the child.

He walked slowly, happily, and leisurely as if he was walking in a flowery park, and admired each cell as if they were his trophies. His eyes landed on the end of the aisle, at the very back of the warehouse was a girl in a large cell. Her turquoise-colored eyes glowed brightly in the shadows, unnerving the man whose eyes widened and brows furrowed.

He slowly neared the cell, taking each step with caution. He was confused, it was just a small girl, a mere child who only sat and stared with wary eyes, yet he was unnerved, scared even. It's been years, yet he still felt powerless in front of this small girl, it annoyed him greatly how obnoxious she stared. She is an eyesore. Nothing had gone right ever since she was found.

He clicked his tongue and walked toward the other men, nodding at one of them, and in mutual understanding, the other man walked toward the entrance and pressed the button next to the door. The cell doors opened with a creek, yet none of them left.

Like a hivemind, none of them did anything before she did, and no one, not even a single soul could move or touch them. Not when Turquoise eyes peered into your soul, it was as if every single sin you've done has been exposed to the world, and you are being humiliated with your every being.

The small figure stood up from her sitting position, large eyes unwavering as she slowly stepped forward and out of her cell. An older boy with oak brown hair followed closely behind her, and the others soon did the same as they passed by each cell.

The three wardens watched the scene. They were synchronized in steps and pacing, and even though they have seen this occur every time a customer came to observe the slaves for the past seven years, they still shiver at the pressure this presence held.

The scrawny man gritted his teeth as they neared him, clenching his fist in annoyance as it shivered. They're nothing but mere slaves, one shout from me and they'll all be frozen in place. He thought to himself, and this was a routine the other men were tired of. They were tired of hearing his screeching voice scream as if it was the end of the world, and they were hoping for another bloodbath to ensue if ever his mouth opens to scream.

The scrawny man opened his mouth, but before his voice could even let out a squeak, he was shoved to the side by a larger build, and the men behind him just watched as he stumbled before catching himself.

The large man walked in front of the turquoise-eyed girl and kneeled before her in an attempt to reach her height, but his bear-built body didn't let him do so. The old man met her big eyes that unnerved the rest and gave her a smile which she didn't reciprocate, "Hello, Shard. A customer had just arrived." He lowered his head to look up instead of looking down at the small girl, "I assure you that this customer will treat the chosen member of your family well." The girl said nothing and looked past him, her gaze going beyond the door. The large man immediately blocked her view to which she gave a glare as an immediate response.

A quick flash of light struck behind the large, old man, and a scream followed within a few seconds of silence. Blood was now dripping and pooling on the floor as it fell from the scrawny man's hand, or where it should be.

The gore the other men were looking for had been laid before their eyes and the assumption that they'd grown out of their fear has been proved wrong. The old man stood up from his position and let the slaves pass by him. The child named Shard waited until all the other slaves had walked out of the warehouse before going out to follow the rest.

The old man's gentle facade fell and he turned to look at the new warden who somehow managed to survive the monster, that child was.

When did this start to happen? Maybe it was when she finally knew how to walk, or maybe when she had finally talked.

Yes, it started when she first talked and walked.

This slave trading chain used to be so rowdy, and the wardens used to have so much power over the slaves that some of the products would die because of their mishandling. Starving them, torturing them over a minuscule thing they'd find faulty, and the women, no matter the age wouldn't be spared.

The slave's unusual behavior started 10 years ago when that child was found in the forest by one of the men, though it was clear that the child was stolen as it gave off the aura of a noble child, the unusual thing was that only Barak could tell. The slaves became protective of the child which was understandable as it was a mere infant thrown into the cell, with horribly tempered men as their guard, any cries from the baby would lead it to die. They had no mercy.

What they didn't expect was how calm the child was, not once did she cry or whine and it gave everyone the feeling of safety that they yearned for, it was as if there was a halo of protection around the child. Barak had talked to the head of the black market, asking to oversee this chain, and things went in his favor, he had observed the child both near and from afar.

Things drastically changed three years later. That child who was only 3 years of age had stood in the middle of the warehouse covered in the blood of the warden who tried to rape the woman who was taking care of her.

The child who he thought would grow to be a retard had talked to him in a full sentence, her once black eyes had turned into turquoise, and she held a strong presence of bloodlust that left the others frozen in place.

That scene had stuck in the memories of the men who bared witness to the gore and survived. The place had changed since then. That child had complete control over what should happen, Barak and she had a mutual understanding.

"Be glad you survived that child, Skril." Barak loomed over the scrawny man who kneeled over his pool of blood, holding on to his wrist as the pain from having his hand cut tortured him. Widened eyes and shrunk brown irises quivered in agony as they watched bandages drop beside him.

Barak turned to look outside the warehouse doors. Shard's eyes had turned back to their deep black color as she watched over the others who basked in their limited freedom.