Somewhat Alive

Sold and Ruined

Sometimes I hear voices. Small sounds in the ghastly darkness that had surrounded me. Small whispers of broken promises. Some of cries and of screams. Sobs and even singing.
I always knew I was different. Never knew how. Just by the subtle glances and glares from the humans that pass my cage everyday. At least I think it is day. There is no way to tell down here.
I don't remember what the sun looks like anymore. Snippets of memories, green trees, brown dirt, the smell of freshly fallen apples traveling with the wind. The sound of bark against fur. I sit in this metal chained box for days. Moons. Years. The time endlessly stretched by misery.
There is no way of telling the time that flies by. No way to remember what I once was. I am a beast. A monster. I deserve to be here. I had killed and slaughtered. I had been beaten and scarred. I deserve pain. The punishment is like a dream compared to the loneliness down in the dark.
I do not get to have the privilege to be warm. My small skinny body is wrecked with shivers and tremors. My tear stained face is coated in dirt and grime. The scars, always reminding me of a weak pest, throb as they stretch all over my body. My legs and arms are cramped from being curled against my torso tightly. I am afraid.
I am unrecognizable. No one knows what I am, or who I used to be. My old prideful self stalks me, mocking my pitiful form. Fear comes in waves. Smells and sound come in scattered wisps. Soon, my memories will deform, and leave me. Like shattered glass, I have no reckoning of how long it's been. Stuck here, in this small dusk room, in a building built for misery. A slave, a pet. That's what I am. Honed down to submission, reduced to a cowering toy.
The scent of my recent handler wafts through the air. He is human, and easily scared. But I won't scare him, because that would be disobedient. Punishment would soon follow. The man has been trying to sell me off for years. But no one wants my marked body, no one wants a disgusting rusty toy. I don't shift anymore, I have no personality. Empty and void of any emotion. At least that's what he thinks. I can still feel. I can hate. And Oh, how I hate this man. Tired and hungry. I lift my head off of the dirty metal floor. I can hear him, talking. Two sets of walking shoes reach my ears.
I sniff the air, The possibility of the human entering my room is scarce. The room is connected to a long hallway, that many other rooms are connected to. Most are empty. Mine is at the end of the hall. The chance of the door to the room grew as their footsteps grew louder with each passing second. I am unsure on what to do. Most creatures are just placed in their rooms, but I was put in a cage. I think it's from the multiple times that I had escaped and killed the handlers. I can't seem to remember...
The cage is small, there is only enough room to lay curled on the floor or resting on my knees. My body hurts from being in the same position for so long, but I won't move. I will not give them the satisfaction of me being docile and calm. Long ago they had learnt their lesson from trying to force me on my knees. They had chained and strapped me, my body unable to move from that position. But it didn't stop me from tearing both the straps, chains and creatures that used such methods to tame me.
Yes I became a pet, something to fawn over. But that was when I was naive, when I never knew the cold touch of cruelty and reality. Back then when darkness was family, when food was plentiful and the sun was shown. But now reality squeezes my neck, pain whispers in my ear, and sorrow hugs me like an old friend. My sharp eyes, exposed to such cruelty are now dull and void of color. The scenery, a lifeless grey, greets me in the face everytime I open my eyes.
The rusty door screamed as it was open. The noise jarring and haunted. It sounded like all the pain and fear from past victims engraved into the metal door. The dents and scratches tell a gruesome story, and the thick bolts that connect both door and wall were faded and worn. Well used, but broken. Like me.
I sigh. Standing at the door frame is my handler and a potential master. My handler is short and fat, having the privilege to eat, sleep and bathe gave him an authority over my nonexistent pride. Quite a long time ago, I would have been cross and angered by the sight of healthy smug humans. But at the moment, I feel nothing. I still hate this particular human yes, but emotions now are dull and deemed useless in any situation. Marked unworthy to have and use.
The male creature standing beside him gives off an intimidating aura, had I been affected. But I feel nothing.
"S-so this is t-the oldest we have. We are not ah, sure what he is b-but, he is strong minded and hard to tame. We offer three million but we can also negotiate a p-price."
Oh. He is talking about me. His voice is annoying and his smell reeks of nerves. I rest my head back on the floor uninterested. I'm not impressed by the price, the highest I was bought for was around Thirty million dollars. But that was back when my skin was smooth, and my eyes were bright. They must've lowered the price quite a lot in order to get rid of me. How thoughtful.
The potential master looks at my form. I can feel his red eyes scan my body, looking for something. By now, I had closed my eyes and relaxed myself as much as possible. I don't care what's going on in front of me, no emotion towards the idea of being sold off and used for someone else's enjoyment.
I just. Am tired. Many times I tried to end my misery, countless memories of cutting myself with my dull claws. Watching the disgusting red run down my arms, my thighs, even my stomach. And each time, I had healed. Each painful memory now burned into my body in the form of a scar. At those times, I had wished to not be what I am. I had wished to be at least a little human, having the option to die, but I was stripped even of the choice of death.
Most survive off of the ability to end it whenever they want. They rejoiced in the fact that their captors could not take that choice away from them. Lucky to be given the ability to leave the pain and misery behind.
Maybe that's the reason I broke. The first time I tried to cut loose, and ended it all. The shock to my system when I opened my eyes to the same grey walls, the same cramped cage and pained door. That was when I snapped most likely. The thought of having nothing, no choices, to be guided into an empty shell only to end up as an object. That is what broke me. Why wouldn I try to fight when I can't even have this precious thing called death?