2019 Voltron Whumptober Collection

5 Gunpoint

Word Count: 2,996

"Move!" The man behind him barked, clawed fingers digging into his arm before throwing him forward a few steps and Keith stumbled, muttering curses under his breath as he continued to struggle against the restraints pinning his arms behind him, earning himself a knock on the head from a nearby gun a minute later, "Quit squirming, you little shit."

He bared his teeth instead, a growl worming it's way up his throat-

Another hit layered the first one, and Keith stumbled forward, vision growing cloudy.

"Leave him alone, dammit!" Lance shouted from behind him, Keith could hear the fear layered in his voice despite his attempt at defending him.

Keith didn't blame him.

"Shut up, or I'll do the same thing to you," the being growled, pointing a bony finger at the Cuban behind him, the being's robes fluttered around him as he turned back around.

Lance shut up after that.

With the help of a few other beings around them, they were led into a small grey room, a mess of chains and cuffs littered the center of a floor, a chair sat near the door while a shelf leaned against the far wall, filled with vials of liquid, a collection of syringes sitting near the top. Keith was quickly shoved to the center of the room, forced to his knees as hands worked to secure him to the floor, chains clinking as they were snapped into place, Lance following suit beside him.

Keith's eyes widened when the door slammed closed behind them with a loud bang, the beings holding them loosening their hold once they were secured, moving to stand in each corner of the room, all with equally vacant expressions, staring dead ahead, arms held in front of them, emotionless.

What, the actual fuck?

What was this?

"I must say, I was very surprised when I found my team had captured not one, but two beings for me to sell, and paladins of Voltron no less," the man who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly, moving to take a seat in the only chair in the room, leaning against one arm as his green eyes took the two teens in, a purple, snake-like tongue flicking out between his lips, scaled skin reflecting the light coming from the bare bulb hanging in the center of the room.

"What do you want with us?" Lance demanded, the teen's voice shaking ruining his attempt at intimidation, "The Galra wouldn't want-"

"The Galra?" The man barked out a laugh, "My dear boy, what makes you believe I am going to hand you over to the Galra?"

Keith could hear the teen's lips snap closed at that, and Keith looked over to watch Lance struggle with his next words before opening his mouth again, "But we're paladins, isn't there that whole 'you'll get a reward if you capture us' thing going on?"

The being chuckled again, "No, I do not earn my money from the Galra, in fact, I receive my pay from the highest bidder," he smiled behind the clawed fingers lightly tapping his lower lip.

Keith could feel his blood run cold at that statement, teeth clenching, heart jumping to his throat, making it hard to breathe, and he didn't have to look over to know Lance was now looking at the man in shock, most likely feeling the same.

These- these were slave traders.

Fucking slave traders.

"Well-" Lance nervously licked his lips, "what- what do you want with us?"

The man gave a sick smile, tongue flicking out again, "To sell you, of course, you are of no use to me if I keep you," he broke off with a grunt, getting to his feet, hands placed behind his back as he walked towards them boots thumping loudly against the floor, scaled tail flicking.