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Chapter One
Accompanying Song: “Bottom of The Deep Blue Sea” by Missio (Acoustic)
Chase
From my comfy seat, I glare at the squabbling men across the room, waiting until the light above the door switches on. The anticipation is starting to unnerve me.
Rummaging through my pocket, I take out a notebook and a pen, and start outlining their faces, depicting what they look like, observing every minute detail. I write down everything important—from greasy hair, to curly mustaches, to eye color, to fat bellies, and pockets stuffed with checks.
Some of them aren’t even wearing masks.
Stupid fucks.
When I’m done, I tuck away the notebook, grab my whiskey on the rocks, and take a sip.
Am I really going to do this?
Yes, yes, I am.
The grip of my hand almost breaks the glass, so I put it down before I hurt myself. I get up and march straight to the bathroom, where I turn on the faucet and let the water cascade over my hands.
I stare down at the water and at my fingers.
Soon, they’ll probably be drenched in blood.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
This is it, Chase.
This is the moment you’ve waited your entire life for.
You’re going to do this whether you like it or not. End of story.
I look up at the man staring back at me in the mirror. Or rather … the shiny, plastic, metallic mask covering my face.
It’s a stark reminder of who I really am.
I’m not the man hiding behind the mask.
The mask is me.
The man behind it just a mere figment of my imagination.
He’s the man who has it all … and it still isn’t enough.
This mask brings out the animal in me, the one hiding in plain sight.
And no one will ever know it was me.
I smile to myself, thinking about what’s to come. Whatever choice I make, it’s sure to be a spectacle. One I won’t forget anytime soon.
As I open the door to step back into the room again, the light above the door turns on, and the men stop talking. They glance briefly at me as I march toward them and wait for the door to open. When it does, they direct their attention to the room beyond.
We all sit on small black chairs lining the red walls. In the back are three metal cages, each containing a person. Two women, one man.
They’re trembling, huddled in a corner, clutching their bodies.
All wearing the same red-colored underwear that barely covers any skin, save for the sensitive parts.
They whimper and cower away from the lights aimed at them. But I can’t help stare at just one of them … a girl to my right with the most beautiful, dark curly hair I’ve seen in a long while.
The cages are behind thick, impenetrable glass, with only one door leading inside.
I doubt they can see us … but all the men can definitely see them.
“Welcome, gentlemen. I hope you all enjoyed the whiskey while waiting,” a voice in the corner says as he approaches.
Graham.
My fists ball as he talks.
“Take a good look. All three of them are available. If you win, the prize will be delivered via the back door after the bidding ends with an added fifteen to twenty minutes to account for transportation. Same door you came in through. Now, I’ll begin with number one on the left shortly. Any questions?”
He gazes around the room, but no one responds.
It’s not as if they haven’t done this before.
Many, many times.
Grinding my teeth, I sit back in the chair and continue to stare at the girl on the right. It’s going to be her.
I’ve already decided.
“Okay.” Graham clears his throat. “The first one’s a little stubborn, but he responds well to punishment. He’s deaf on one side, but the other ear works perfectly. No other defects. He’s virile and young, perfect for working with his hands, such as personal grooming, housekeeping, or general entertainment. Whatever you want.”
The smirk on his face is murderous.
It makes me feel murderous.
I can’t help it. I’m a savage in a suit who enjoys dishing out pain.
But now is not the right time.
Graham pushes a button, and the male on the left is buzzed so hard he rolls around across the floor of his cage, his face contorted and gasping for air. I look away.
“Up!” Graham yells through an intercom.
The kid struggles to stand but does it anyway. Then he bangs his head against the bars until Graham releases the button, after which he just stands there, motionless … staring right at the glass separating us.
“Bidding starts at twenty thousand.”
The men raise their fingers as Graham announces increasing numbers. I ignore their voices and focus solely on the girl on the right. For some reason, she’s gotten up from her corner and walked all the way up to the front. Graham didn’t even have to buzz her to get her to move.
