Bought for Two Thousand Dollars by a Slave Trader

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Number 31 scrambled through the vegetation, vines and limbs whipping against her and leaving red marks on her tingling skin. She glanced up at the numbers. Only 40 seconds left. Suddenly, Charles jumped out from some wet ferns, his eyes sparkling in triumph as Number 31 tripped and fell in surprise.

"Hey, there," he murmured in a lusty purr as his gaze raked across Number 31's naked figure. She was definitely old enough, and a few months of starving hadn't stunted her breast growth. He would buy the girl... if only the prices weren't so high around here for purchasing game.

Lifting up his hand, Charles waved his index finger in a circle. The silver ring on it glowed, and a shot of green flame ripped out of the air on front of it. Number 31 froze, bracing for impact, until a burst of purple intercepted Charles's shot.

Nathaniel exploded from the plants behind Number 31, flying over her and pouncing on Charles. The two good humouredly battled each other and Nathaniel had just pointed his finger in Number 31's direction when a resounding buzzer echoed throughout the hunting grounds.

"Honored guests," a young female voiced cooed, "your time at the IHG has concluded. There has been a tie, but we hope that you enjoyed your stay and will come again! Please exit towards the double doors in the front of the stadium, and we wish you a good day!"

Bright blue double doors so big that they could be seen all around flickered into view as the lady spoke. Charles and Nathaniel shook hands, mock punching each other as they got up from the dirt and stretched a bit.

Charles turned to look at Number 31, who was slowly getting up and retreating into the trees.

"Wait a second," Charles drawled, and Number 31 froze. "Come with me. I might buy you depending on how much you cost."

Number 31 turned slowly, glaring at the two companions. She hissed in a feral manner, not giving them the honor of hearing her speak, the sickening killers.

Nathaniel burst out guffawing, and Charles's smirk melted into a scowl. Charles flitted to Number 31's side and grabbed her naturally dark brown hair. It served as a good leash, since the hair reached the bottom of Number 31's shoulder blades.

"Look, girl. I'm being very nice here. It's not every day an indenture like you can get a conversation out of s guy with a status like me. Now MOVE IT," he growled unpleasantly as he dragged Number 31 towards the big blue doors.

By the time the duo and protesting indenture reached the doors, a smarmy, fat man in a suit was waiting for them with beady eyes and sweaty jowls.

"I see you're interested in our game, sir," the fat manager smiled saccharinely.

"Yup. How much for this one?" Charles asked as he gave Number 31 a shake. She kept quiet, not letting him hear a single satisfactory gasp of pain.

"I'd say," the manager pondered thoughtfully as he sized up Number 31's worth, "two thousand dollars."

Nathaniel gaped in outrage, and Charles laughed in triumph. "Is that it? What's the catch?"

"Well," the manager sighed as he squinted at Number 31, "this one's got a bit of a temper. I can't guarantee you'll be very happy with her."

"Don't have to be," Charles smirked. "You see, I run the slave trading business."

"Oh," the manager smiled in comprehension. "Then I say that you'll be perfectly happy with her. Just give her a bit of morphine and she'll sell soon enough."

With that, Number 31's originally predictable future ended, making way for a new one that she had never imagined.

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