Screams Of The Night.

No one had a glimpse of what the outside world looks like, no one had the idea of the hour and time. Still, Verna was counting the number of times one of the slaves had been coughing blood drowning in her misery. They paid no mind as they dragged the collar holding a new slave by the neck. The child groaned as his  bruised body was dragged into one of the cells. 

Verna watched with rage in her eyes, least surprised. These kinds of things were no longer news to her. In fact she watched them come in and go out as they like. Only one feeling lingered in her mind, Rage. She couldn't contain it any longer, she allowed it to flow in her veins.

Years back, Verna had thought of ways to end her life but survival instincts grew with her and nothing stopped her from implementing the gruesome pictures she painted in her head. Verna always wondered how she ended up here in the slave establishment. She knew nothing of where she was born or any relative that might have a clue about her hometown. She counted herself as one of those lost souls that might never be found or retrieved by those who they genuinely love.

Verna knew she had no one and no one was going to be waiting for her, so she just had to take all the risks. 

One of the guards, hit against the cage that she was in. "Step out, Verna. They've sent for you."

At first, news like this was more like a prayer to her. Let her buyer come, someone that would at least be kind enough to let her eat well and sleep well

 Even if she was being tortured the next minute, she knew better. Buyers that came to the slave house were not good people, they were never good people. They just looked for ways to up their reputation by buying slaves who could satisfy their needs and do their bidding. 

Verna knew what was coming for her, she stood up anyways and followed the guards who had dragged her chains ahead of her. There was no peace behind these walls, only suffering and that was all she has ever known. 

Slaves that were in the process of being bought, were always sent to an empty room where buyers could examine them as often as they would want. Those were the requirements before the bidding was finalised.  As they walked through the empty hallways the darkness began to suck them in.  Verna heart began to race as she was thrown into an empty room, she was about to protect bit she was already locked in.

She stared at the man whose hands  were folded at his back.  He was staring through the window, verna felt the cold air rush into the room making her skin hair stand. 

"I guess you are here to buy me off? You should just get on with it then." He scoffed. The threw back the cloak that covered his head and turned around. There was no hiding the fact that he was an Alpha, the tattoos on his hands gave him away. The drawing became even more clearer, when he removed his cloak and hung it in the chair closeby.

"I have heard of  you before. It is always a pleasure to be in the midst of a feisty one. The moment you think you can actually force your way out, you get sucked right in."

Verna contorted trying to make sense of what he was saying. She wanted to protest but she decided against it immediately when he moved closer to her. "I like them just as feisty." The stranger circled her sniffing her skin as he held her hair to the other side of her shoulder. Her milk tone skin still glistened but in dirt he didn't mind. The stranger liked this one, she was just as what they said. Feisty, cold and fit for the job. He wondered if he she could be used for other things that might satisfy his needs. The thought of it amused him, there was nothing left to see anymore. He had confirmed all he had heard.

He stretched his hands to the door but Verna was too quick. "Who are you?" 

"Do you really want to know?" 

"If you are going to buy me with such a huge amount of money, I should at least get the courtesy of knowing who you are." 

"Fair enough." He started. "I'm Alpha Kernan, I lead the Charmstone pack." 

"The artists. You do not seem like the type that would be in this kind of place."

"What do you mean?" Ketnan was slow to his words but there was nothing that would make him show his emotions. Verna didn't see him as someone who would be from this pack. She saw him as too mundane, the hair was neatly combed to the back. He wore his  white sleeves, rolled perfectly, it was his cologne that was the most intoxicating. Verna couldn't seem to concentrate but what if he was her only ticket out of this place. 

"You are an artist. You rule the artist, a slave establishment is no place for an Alpha who has claimed to have morals." He hung his hand in the air, spun her around, titled her neck sideways and bit into her flesh. 

Verna screamed, the pain was more than she could chew. It was new, profound and it felt like a claim to her body. Her blood trickled down as he gently pulled out of her embrace.  She held her neck, to stop the gush of blood that refused to stop. Kernan's eyes were dark as night, blood was at the side of his mouth. He unfolded a white napkin and cleaned the slide of his lips, revealing a smug smile that disgusted Verna. 

"There are things you shouldn't say little one, that would be your first lesson for today. You would know what I am and my preference when I take you to the mansion." Going ahead to knock on the door, the guard entered. "I will take her. I have dropped a huge sum with your owner." 

The guard stood in front of her to release the chains she was in, grinning from ear to ear, showing his gapped teeth. The odour that came out of him,  almost made her throw up. She was already disgusted. There was no strength left in her to fight her way out or protest. She had scared off other buyers. Most times, they left thinking they could not tame her.  It was always a win but something made this different. She could feel the coldness that was wrapped around him. She tried to reach inside of her, something she could use against him but there was nothing. 

As Kernam dragged her to the carriage, she thought of all the ways her life could go wrong. Verna knew that Kernan was nothing but a black book and there was no means of escaping from his sight.