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START:MOVING <- Previous Chapter | 505 words | Short read Preamble START:A BOOK is a tale of betrayal and treachery, with random releases of 400-500 word chapters it keeps you on your toes with subverted expectations, alternative perspectives, and general craziness. While it may not be the most conventional medium for storytelling, I hope this new medium genuinely sparks your interest with its provocative way of writing. Chapter 2 As that aforementioned existential crisis washes over her something else had to happen. The slaver finally stopped his toying and got up. He was barely taller than a gnome, yet still loomed over her kneeling form. He roughly yanked her chains and pulled her to a half stand- before promptly shoving her into a small cage. She sat uncomfortably in the claustrophobic cage for… God knows how long. But nothing happened, nothing, just silence. She sat there without food, water, or even fresh air for what could’ve been days. Not that she knew, there was no point of reference except for the occasional slave trader passing by looking for slaves to stock. She tried to shift slightly in the cage and found herself incapable of moving any reasonable amount in the cramped cage. Unable to think, much less strategize in the tiny space all she’s left with is her thoughts, her terrifying thoughts. If she could only remove these cuffs then she might be able to grasp the small lock picking kit in the heel of her boot and get out of the cage. After what felt like an eternity a sudden creak disturbed her uneasy haze. An undersized cart was wheeled into the room, the three sweaty men accompanying it not taking a moment's thought to look at the cages along the edge of the room, all of them holding people like her — people desperate for even a peek of sunlight or brief moment of recompense. The largest of the men lumbered over to her cage at the signal of the man in the center, by far the shortest and most unaffected by the tense environment. The astute man studied her from across the room, his emotionless eyes only looked over her briefly before turning his attention to the other cages. The man continued towards her, stopping briefly in front of her cage before roughly picking up the cage — causing her to slide to the corner and wince as she slammed into the cold metal bars. Fuck, of course it had to get worse. The man lugged her cage, her prison, across the room and dropped her to the dismal cart, smashing her head against the cage’s low ceiling once again. She sits silently, silence, too silent. The man loaded several more cages onto the cart, but she paid it no heed, she just sat there, sat with empty eyes, broken, broken from the silence, from the smell of rotting corpses, from the steady drip of water from the streets above, from the traders’ rough treatment, from the pure torment of being betrayed by the people she’d lived with for years, for the betrayal. As the cart was wheeled out of the subterranean chamber she analyzes her reality with cold detachment. This is the new reality, her new life, her new reality.. This is her, a slave, meaningless in the grand scheme of things — meaningless, a heavy feeling settled deep in her gut as she realized she has no purpose, no meaning in life. |