Cassiel... The girl stirred and blinked. She gasped at the image of her mother standing before her. "M...Mom?"
The woman raised her open arms to her daughter, but her tender, smiling image faded, and then reappeared in the guise of her husband. Cassiel's father's usually solemn face cracked with a loving smile. Cassiel... Her eyes filling with tears, Cassiel reached for her father's outstretched arms. As she neared him, though, his image also disappeared, leaving behind the echo of his voice.
Cassiel... She turned toward the voices, then gasped and flinched at the sight. Her mother and father's charred corpses reached for her in their familiar, loving fashion, their burnt clothing crackling and falling off their bodies in pieces. Cassiel backed away, feeling ashamed for doing so, but still so afraid she'd become like them, so afraid of dying...
"Cassiel." The woman watched her, a fanned spark of concern in her eyes. Cassiel shivered and wrapped her arms around her body, and looked around the office, trying to forget the images of her parents' remains. "Cassiel," the woman repeated, trying to gain the girl's full attention. When she finally succeeded, she continued, "We found your aunt in Whenir...we can see if she'd like to take you in..."
Cassiel already knew the answer, though her case worker tried to seem hopeful. This aunt of hers, Aunt Rose, had never shown much interest in her family, even though Cassiel's father was -had been- the woman's only sibling; she sincerely doubted she would want to take in a troubled orphan, no matter that they were related.
"Don't bother," Cassiel stated, her voice flat. "She doesn't want anything to do with me or my family; she never has."
The caseworker tried to smile reassuringly, but her charge refused to look at her. "There's always the chance, though..."
...because who else would want to take care of me? the girl silently finished the woman's thought. Continuing to ignore her, Cassiel fingered the small necklace around her neck and stared at an open window behind the woman's desk.
"Ms. Wilmer." The familiar masculine voice sounded from behind Cassiel's chair; she refused to turn and look at him. She didn't want to hear what he had to say.
Her caseworker smiled politely at him and said, "You've been rather quiet, sir. Do you have something to add?"
He stayed behind her chair, and Cassiel could feel his gaze move over her as though it was his hands. She shivered at the thought and continued staring at the window as he spoke. "Yes...if Cassiel's aunt doesn't have the...resources or is otherwise incapable of taking her in, I would be glad to take care of her." He laid a hand on Cassiel's shoulder. "Her mother and father were like family to me..."
Cassiel's stomach dropped; she quickly looked at her caseworker, hoping the woman knew a reason to outright decline his offer. On the contrary, the woman seemed very relieved at his words. "That's very kind of you to offer, sir," she stated, looking at Cassiel with a faintly hopeful look. "Isn't this good, Cassiel?"
Cassiel didn't allow her expression to change. She kept the bored, disinterested look on her face and simply kept staring at the window. He could tell what she was feeling and thinking, though, she knew. He always did know.
Through her panicked haze, she heard him continue, "I'll raise her like she's my own daughter..." He pressed a faintly mocking kiss on her head. "I'll take care of you, Cassiel..."
--
"Miss? Miss, wh-...are you...miss?"
Cassiel blinked, and then tensed at the feeling of being shaken. Her body felt bruised all over, and whoever was shaking her by the shoulders wasn't helping anything. She groaned slightly in pain, and the shaking stopped.
A man's face appeared before her, and she dimly recognized him as the former human that she had been forced to turn. His brows drawn together in concern, he whispered, "Are you okay, miss?"
Cassiel grasped at his arm and managed to pull herself into an up-right position, a chain attached to her ankle rattling against the concrete floor with each movement. "I'm fine," she croaked, the utterance coming out in a half-groan.
He carefully helped her stay in a somewhat upright position; looking around the room, the man whispered, "We're not...in the cabin anymore..." Cassiel frowned slightly and followed his gaze. Her throat felt raw, and her voice rasped as she asked, "Where are we?"
Before the man could reply, a rusty door creaked open, allowing a dingy ray of light to shine into the room. The silhouette of a tall man stood there; his face in shadows, he slowly walked toward them, followed quietly by another, smaller man carrying a clipboard.
Cassiel watched him carefully, staying quiet and feeling her companion tense beside her. The man paused within a few feet of where they sat and watched them, his dark steel eyes assessing them. "So this is his latest shipment?" he asked, and his companion with the clipboard nodded quietly.
Crouching before her, the big man took Cassiel's chin in his hand and tilted her head first one way, then another to study her face. "Have you birthed before?" he asked in a brisk, businesslike tone. She quietly shook her head and watched him as he stood back up and motioned to his companion. The shorter man tucked the clipboard under an arm and warily began loosening their chains from the floor. Neither of the two moved while he worked, and he finished quickly.
The big man took the chains and, with another look over Cassiel, led her and the other man out of the dingy cell. She silently followed him, trying to keep up with his long-legged gait, and let her mind block out the sounds of clanging chains. The questions that were safely buried in her mind now bubbled to the surface, prodding her to evaluate her situation. The man lead her and the other down a dark hallway; without turning her head, Cassiel noted that the place seemed very old, that the block walls seemed ready to fall before the lightest breath, and that the concrete floors were stained odd colors from years of use. What an odd place to keep people chained up...
After winding through hallway after hallway, the same sights present along each one, the man finally lead the two vampires onto a stage like platform. Cassiel quietly stood where he directed her to and watched him carefully as he attached both her and the other man's chains to an oddly shaped piece of metal. The metal held loops that allowed their chains to be locked to it, and its length spanned the stage's width, with many loops along it; most of the loops held chains attached to other beings, none of whom looked in Cassiel's direction, or showed any emotion at all.
The man with a clipboard walked by, pausing before each person and scribbling something down, and then moving onto the next and doing the same. Cassiel watched him out of the corner of her eye, but most of her mind occupied itself with figuring out her current situation. A stage, and people chained to it... She looked straight ahead, quietly studying the thick, dark red fabric that hung before the stage; her sensitive ears picked up sounds of life on the other side of the curtain, but the sounds were not what she expected. It sounds like a...party...
Slowly tensing, Cassiel glanced at the man standing beside her. He stood with his feet shoulder length apart, almost as if at attention, his hands clasped behind his back, and his dark eyes trained on the floor. She quietly looked back ahead, silently bracing herself for whatever would come next.
The big man came back to the stage and paused in front of the enchained people. Silently, and with intensity, he trained his eyes on each of their faces, and as his gaze lighted on them, each person flinched as if struck. With a smug smile, he glanced at Cassiel, seemingly waiting for her to react in the same fashion as those before her, and frowning slightly when she blandly gazed back at him, allowing no fear to show in her expression. Still frowning, the man turned on his heel and faced the huge curtain.
"Are we ready?" he asked; in response, the curtain lifted, and Cassiel swallowed slightly at the sight beyond.
Dozens of prim, tight faces stared up at the figures on stage, their gazes not concerned or inquisitive, but evaluative. They all studied Cassiel and the others enchained, quietly judging them, seeming to try to figure something out about them. The big man stood out in front, his smile wide and welcoming, and his stance open and proud. "Ladies and gentlemen," he proclaimed, his voice hushing the murmur among the crowd. "I would like to thank each of you for attending this year's auction."
Cassiel tensed more as she realized how right she had been; the man beside her flipped his face forward, his gaze disbelieving as he turned it on her. It's the same thing, over and over and over again...
The big man gestured widely as he spoke, including every one of the pinched and snooty faces in his conversation. "I'm sure you all know how an estate auction works, eh? This auction is no different, except no one died." He paused with a grin for the muffled snickers, and then continued, "I will introduce each item you are bidding for, and then we'll see how badly you want them. Shall we start?"
He walked to Cassiel's far left, to the first person in the line, and announced, "This young man comes from the Southern parts of our beautiful country. I'm told he has quite a charming voice, and, ah..." He winked at several of the women in the crowd. "He makes a very fine stud." Amid flustered sounds from his audience, the man undid the boy's chains and brought him to the front of the stage. "What price are you willing to pay to have such a fine specimen in your house? Shall I start the bidding at...500?"
"One thousand!" a feminine voice immediately answered. Cassiel tuned out the bidding war that followed, instead focusing on what her companion muttered under his breath. "This is barbaric," he mumbled, staring at the crowd that stared back. "What kind of people are they, to buy others like this?"
I know these types of people well... Cassiel stayed quiet, her eyes focused on the wooden plank stage, the noises of the auction flowing around her.
The auction dragged on, one slave after another being led off the stage and to their new owners, until, finally, the big man arrived at Cassiel’s slot. He laid a hand on her shoulder and winked out at the bidders. “Next, we have this little beauty from the North. Her former master told me she likes to be kept warm and very, very cozy…” Several of the men looking up at Cassiel smirked to themselves and traded glances. She felt her face redden, but she refused to acknowledge anyone’s glances or presence and quietly listened to the big man start the bidding on her.
A short while later, the big man handed her chain over to a dour-faced man, who led her away without so much as looking her over. Cassiel quietly followed him off the stage and through the crowd, keeping her eyes on his back and ignoring the obscene comments tossed her way. No matter where you go, men are still the same…
The frowning man led her into a van already filled with some of the other auctioned slaves; he made her sit on one of the benches and chained her leg to the floor, and then handcuffed her hands together. He muttered something under his breath and left the van.
Cassiel simply sat there with her fellow slaves, none of them speaking but all sharing the same confused, angry feelings. Her companion from the cabin was added to the cargo before the van started moving; his dark eyes seemed darker than usual, and full of pain. Like his companions, though, he didn’t speak, and no one encouraged anyone else to, either.
The van’s soothing, rhythmic moving ended after a short while, and the same dour-faced man appeared at the back to release them. After releasing each slave from the chains and marching them out of the van, he lined them up and looked them over.
Cassiel silently watched him as he looked each of them over, letting herself take an evaluation of her new master as he evaluated her. The man’s dark, deep-set eyes seemed far too small for his face, and his angular cheeks looked more like a modern sculptor’s interpretation of a snotty schoolteacher than that of a real person’s. He caught her stare and frowned at her, his thin lips thinning even more with the expression. With an aggravated movement, he motioned for them to follow and began walking up a path. They all followed silently.
At first, it appeared as though there was nothing but open meadowland and forest around them, but as they crested a hill, a large estate came into view. The mansion looked as though it covered an entire acre by itself, and the rolling hills surrounding it held numerous other smaller houses.
Their dour-faced leader guided them through a door on the back of the mansion and down a hallway lined with many doors; he glanced back at them and announced, with a faintly nasal voice, “You have each been assigned a room. Except for work and when the master allows you time off, your time will be spent in this room.” He began directing them to their respective rooms, and Cassiel quietly obeyed.
Her room held nothing but a cot and a small, roughly beaten chest of drawers. Collapsing onto the surprisingly soft cot, Cassiel closed her eyes in exhaustion, thankful that the cot at least held a blanket. Pulling it up over her weary body, she silently replayed the day’s events in her mind, until her mind finally gave in and let her sleep.
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