Page 8 of Cry for Help

His brow furrowed. “You can’t talk?”

I shook my head.

“No, you can’t talk, or no you can?”

I gave him a look.

“Right.” The man barked a self-pitying laugh. “Come with me; I’ll get you up on stage. Hopefully, someone will bid on you before the night is through. I don’t know how I missed one!” He chided himself, waving me through the door.

From the limited noise I’d heard, each of my fellow inmates had been met with fanfare. Excitement.

Most of the chairs were empty. The lights had been turned up, revealing the frayed edges of the stage curtains and the scuff marks on the wood.

I blinked against the spot light, and the MC made his way to his podium. Not a single person in the audience even looked at him.

I’d never seen a demon in real life, up close. Demons lived in the Red Cities as part of the treaty, allowing them to come to Earth from Hell.

The people in the audience didn’t seem much different than regular people, save for the ‘sheen’ that made it feel like I was looking at a celebrity that I’d somehow failed to recognize. Their hair was styled just so, and their skin was perfect, even under the scrutinizing bright bar lights.

“A final addition, folks!” The MC announced. “Mute as a faulty television set, but curves for days! We have...” He glanced at me, realizing he didn’t know my name. “Amy.”

Amy? I wanted to laugh. I couldn’t even correct him. What kind of demon wanted a silent slave? I’d been told demons liked the sounds of screams.

“She’s the last one before we close up shop until the next auction.” The MC called out. “Amy. Silent. Gentle.”

“What crime did she commit?” Someone heckled. “Did she kill anybody?”

The MC looked at me helplessly.

I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“There you go, folks! She’s got a taste for blood.” The auctioneer announced.

Silence reigned.

I’d arrived too late to the party.

This was just embarrassing.

“Five hundred credits.” A deep voice called from the back. I squinted to see, but the spotlight blinded me.

“Five hundred to start?” The MC coaxed.

No one added to the bidding.

He pointed to the demon hidden in shadow at the back of the room.

“Five hundred tothe Flock.” He said, banging his gavel. “The auction is now over.”

Chapter Three

I didn’t have a chance to see who had purchased me.

I was ushered off stage and taken to the holding pen with the other prisoners, each of them wearing the same shapeless black dress, their faces stained with tears as they stood behind chicken-wire like animals ready for slaughter.

The door closed behind me; the only light was a dim bulb overhead.

Startled cries rang out, and my questions were immediately answered when the sigil on my arm began to sting and change color from black to angry red.

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