This mission proves that a big part of S1 is simply swallowing pride.
Of course most gang activity isn't pretty, but that doesn't mean he expected to be in this position. It appeared he had bonded somewhat with Gabe the night before, just enough so that Amelia trusted when the leash around his neck was tugged he wouldn't reach forward with his shackled hands and strangle the werewolf that lead it.
At least he didn't have to put on the leather like Gabe did. Ezra dawned a smudged pastel pink sweater, cut sloppily just above his belly button to show off his smooth skin. Of course it isn't actually clean, rather covered in striped scars and burns, but the makeup Clover and Mahin had coated all over his torso made it look as if he was a pampered trophy, dragged along by a creep of an owner. Making a slave show this much clear skin is a look-what-I-have kind of thing; showing off the money to buy a supernatural without having them work.
Even though this trafficking ring is dusty and dark, since it started deep in the basement of an abandoned out of the way factory, it buzzes with powerful energy. Gabe plays the part well, studying cages and prices without giving away his underlying discomfort.
Although he hates them, the werewolf had rubbed off on him over yesterday. They talked and talked, giving into their differences and letting the mental walls break down through sheer exhaustion and understanding. Gabe was fairly new to S1 as well.
Ezra follows him around obediently, trying to stay close enough so the werewolf wouldn't have to tug his collar, but far enough away to look submissive. Plenty of other buyers and sellers drag around supernaturals on leashes, bumping shoulders and grinning with pride. Some even pull around more than one.
Ezra crinkles his nose, the smell of the quick splash of a clean most supernaturals in the cages got wafting into the air. There are only a few, simply for decoration, in the auction room they wander around in. The stage is lit up for a show, but remains empty.
"Pretty," a man comments to Gabe, eyeing Ezra before moving on and pulling along his own vampire. It was a challenge, seeing if the smaller of the two would warn him off before he disappeared in the thickening crowd.
Gabe briefly looks back at Ezra, listening for the short whine the vampire gives past the practical muzzle strapped around his face to keep his jaw clamped closed.
The werewolf looks back forward, ignoring the man with Ezra's command. They move on.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" a confident voice booms over the speakers littered around the auction room. Ezra flinches, making Gabe glance back at him. The slightest of worried expressions he wears makes Ezra stiffen.
"The auction will begin in five minutes," the voice says, s's popping shrill in the microphone, "last minute entries are accepted with a fee, so get your name on the list!"
Gabe tugs Ezra close, making the vampire want to reach up and wrap his hands around his neck. Even though the other male is significantly taller and buffer, he would have no problem kicking him down if it means he would be treated like he could handle it.
"I'm going to sell you," he whispers bluntly, quiet yet loud enough so that anyone around them would assume it was just an owner taunting his catch, "and you will be silent, and obedient. You hear me?"
Ezra gives a timid nod, tilting his face down and away from the one leaning down on him. He doesn't bother trying to hide how the werewolf over him makes his hands shake with nervousness, allowing himself to be grabbed by the back of the neck and forced to look Gabe in the eye.
"They're looking at us," he grunts sternly, giving a show for the armed auctioneers waiting by the sign up table. It's nothing spectacular, just a cheap fold up table to keep mundane things light and simple.
Ezra nods again, this time quicker and slightly more panicked. He forces his facial expression to relax from warning to fearful, drawing up his shoulders and turning in his feet. The other conductors watch him in entertainment.
Gabe takes a step back, pulling up the collar of his thick black jacket and stalking to the table. Ezra follows quickly, avoiding having the leash tugged too harshly. If it's pulled too hard it'll snap, like it's supposed to in an emergency, but it's still sewn tight enough to give visuals.
Ezra keeps his eyes fixed on Gabe's back as he signs their false names on the sheet. The werewolf slides fifty dollars across the table with the pen he borrowed, and the man across from him nods.
"Be ready with it in line," the man grunts, deep city accent popping now that he isn't on the speaker, "it'll get sold."
Gabe gives a curt nod, turning from the table without starting excess conversation. The vampire follows obediently, shifting his eyes to look around without seeming frantic.
The sights and sounds, money and booze, traffickers and buyers, all flood Ezra's system with the buzz to fight. The smell of tobacco makes his nose itch and his lungs burn, and the sensation of the metal guard keeping his mouth shut makes his jaw ache. Of course the muzzle isn't real, straps cut and loosely resewed, but with how tight they still managed to strap it- it feels real enough.
Gabe grips Ezra's arm, roughly pushing him into the end of the line behind the auctioning stage. The vampire avoids looking up, knowing if he did the threatening look he'd give would blow the reputation that they had built up since getting there.
The woman in front of Gabe glances back, lips pursed as she holds up the leash she's carrying like a cigarette. A small werewolf stands at the other end of the decorated chain, looking tired and worn out. Her skin is bruised and scratched up, as if she had been pushed to get her muscles toned but didn't quite have enough food to get there.
"Kinda scrawny, don't you think?" she asks, dramatic undertone weaving into her voice. Ezra doesn't doubt she has money flowing out of every pore in her body.
Gabe looks at her and then Ezra, studying him before reaching out and gripping one of his shackled wrists. He turns him slowly, flashing the clean skin and toned stomach underneath his cut top. "Skinny," he agrees, "but very strong and agile. A very useful worker."
"You don't look like you'd need much help," the woman says dramatically, Ezra having to smother down the urge to roll his eyes. She glances to the growing crowd in front of the stage, scanning before looking back up at the werewolf. He visibly hesitates as she looks him up and down, reaching forward and running her fingers down his covered chest.
"You look like a respectable man," she lawls, jingling her chain, "why don't we sneak off somewhere quick after this?"
Ezra gives a short tug to his collar, whining and gaining both Gabe's and the woman's attention. She frowns as Ezra shrinks under Gabe's glare and pulls at his bound wrists.
"You need to discipline him better," she comments, twisting her fingers around the leash carelessly. The girl wasn't going to try and escape; it was clear she knew that.
"I'm selling him; he'll be someone else's problem to deal with," Gabe scoffs, running his hand into Ezra's black hair and tugging his face up. The woman studies him with contempt.
Ezra suppresses the growl that suddenly rises up in his throat, clipping the edge of the warning and watching as Gabe catches the look in his eyes. He lets go.
"He won't be my problem much longer," Gabe mutters, making a small twinge of pain strike Ezra's chest. He knows the werewolf is just playing the part, but the auction is still real. The last time he had heard this it had been true.
"Gooooood evening, everyone," a cheery plastic-faced man greets into the microphone. Ezra can hardly see him from where he stands in line, but can imagine him on the stage. The auctioneer.
"I know you all are just itching to see what we have selling tonight," he says excitedly, Ezra finally noticing the hidden wish for approval in his voice that all auctioneers seem to have, "and can I say- you will not be disappointed!"
Someone in the back of the crowd hoots, sending ripples of applause up the audience. They quiet again quickly enough, making Ezra's chest rattle with anxiety. He had proven he's stable enough to do this, but the adrenaline that pumps through his system shocks each and every one of his nerves. S1, along with S2, have everything planned out, and the werewolf and vampire are just a part of the cause.
Ezra glances back as someone else enters the line, this one leading their creature by a fairly new and shiny black leash. Ezra does a double take, pulling his eyes away as the creature's conductor gives him a dirty look; the conductor is selling a witch.
Witches are one of the rarest species to see in auctions, since the demand is always so high and someone is always waiting in line to buy every single fighter or healer in the ring. People couldn't care less about vampires and werewolves- but a witch? Witches are better for more than just fighting and housework for the rich.
And he's wearing the same mess of a mouth clamp Ezra has on- making the vampire sort through the possibilities. Conductors don't just randomly sell their witches because they want to.
"And the first gem of the night," the auctioneer says, waiting as the conductor leads his supernatural onto the stage by a death grip on the arm. The vampire scowls at him, flashing four sharp fangs.
"Ooh! A feisty one!" the man on stage laughs, looking back at the few tables that litter the ground and the people that stand in clumps behind them, "what is the starting price for you, sir?"
The man grunts from off the microphone, making the auctioneer raise his eyebrows.
"Starting at the low price of four hundred dollars!" he starts, raising his hand, "strong vampire, looks to be-"
A scream rings out from the audience, making everyone watching swing their heads to the back of the room. Ezra dares raise to his toes, looking over Gabe's shoulders without touching him.
He can't see past the crowd.
A louder, angrier voice curses loudly, blaming the girl for her cry even though he had probably induced some form of pain. She pleads as half of the audience suddenly roars, the other half quieting just as fast.
Ezra tenses at the growing noise, listening in stillness to the girl's bloodcurdling death cry. The scream is followed by the unmistakable hiss of a dying beast.
"Look forward." A gentle voice breezes past Ezra's ear, quiet yet far away. He throws a quick glance over his shoulder while all the conductors regather themselves, seeing the witch staring straight forward into nothingness. The empty look in his milky white eyes suggests that he can't see anything at all. Is that why his conductor is selling him?
Usually it doesn't matter if witches are small, like this one is, or not deadly looking, like this one is. At the same time, however, smothered power radiates from the young teen, suggesting that the voice he heard hadn't come from his wired shut mouth. Maybe his conductor is selling him out of fear.
"Moving on from that incident," the auctioneer on stage says, a hint of warning in his voice sent out to the murderer in the crowd. No other concern is shown except for the newer supernaturals who haven't seen the full brutality of trafficking rings shifting nervously. At least she died quick, and wasn't beaten into submission by the crowd first.
"Who's looking to buy this fine gentleman's vampire?" the man gestures to the waiting supernatural, beginning his practiced spin of numbers as hands begin to raise and fall. He sells for nine hundred dollars, and not a penny more.
The next is brought on stage, this one a werewolf, and he sells for one thousand three hundred. He had been a strong fighter, but his conductor didn't want to keep him around since he 'had too many fighters already'. At least that was the excuse they gave as he was pulled onto the stage with his mouth clamped shut. It appears a lot of supernaturals here have an attitude problem; maybe a few actually bit back.
And one by one, the line shortens.
A bruised and bone thin vampire, wild in the eyes with hunger, sells for five hundred. Another twig of a vampire sells for two hundred, since she rides the solemn brink of death with how long it had been since she'd eaten.
Then a werewolf, no older than seventeen, sells for one thousand one hundred with the potential for house work. And another, and another, and another.
Some are buzzing to fight, some are terrified, some are confused. Most appear to be beaten silly, covered in blooming bruises that never had the chance to heal. One vampire twitches around in his spot on stage with a broken wrist, overwhelmed with the smells and loud teasing of the audience.
Then the lady that had been trying to swoon Gabe is called up, giving a dramatic, longing look behind her before she drags her werewolf up on stage. If it were his job, Ezra would roundhouse that lady in the neck and free the girl in a heartbeat. She holds her like a purse puppy.
"She's no fighter," Ezra hears the rich lady say past the wobbly stairs to the stage. His hands tremble with anxiety, waiting for the werewolf to be auctioned off before he's dragged up.
The shackles are fake, the muzzle is fake, the leash is fake, even his name is fake. Still, it's all real at the same time. For a few brief moments he's back with Orgon, pushed forward by the scruff of his neck. He was shown off frequently.
Gabe grips Ezra's arm, startling him out of his memory as he's roughly pushed to the stairs. She sold for one thousand.
The lights that shine down from the rungs of the ceiling make dark spots dance in the vampire's eyes, squinting before he's lead to the center and forced to stand still. His knees shake slighty before he gathers himself.
The auctioneer watches him with a plastic smile, studying his half covered face and messy hair. The guard on his jaw hides his fangs, and the pastel clothes make him look small and fragile. If only he felt as strong as he really is. Being back in this position pushes at a mental block he was sure he had gotten past.
"And what's your starting price, sir?" the man asks Gabe, flashing an expectant smile.
"Eight hundred," Gabe mutters quietly, earning a nod from the auctioneer.
"Eight hundred!" he starts, beginning his slur of numbers as people raise their hands. The exposed patch of skin on Ezra's stomach helps get offers by differing him from the rest. He looks young, clean, and naive; yet to be exhausted by beatings and work.
He already had been, though. They just don't know that.
"A double raise!" the auctioneer cheers, pointing somewhere in the audience. Ezra can't see past the white glare in his eyes. "Will anyone challenge?"
The auctioneer begins again, pointing at another audience member who raises their hand. They're shot down again by the same person as before.
"Another double raise by the gentleman in the white suit!" he says, sounding slightly confused himself, "will anyone take it past four thousand?"
The crowd goes silent. To them, the vampire doesn't look liked he'd bring in profit or gain. Why would any person in their right mind want to spend so much money on a house worker?
"Four thousand from the gentleman in the back!" he auctioneer says, facing the audience as Gabe steps up and grabs Ezra by the back of the neck. The clamp on his jaw shifts and loosens.
An inhuman scream rings out from the stage, the vampire's muzzle unstrapping falling from his face as he tears apart the binds on his wrists and tackles down the auctioneer.
The distraction had begun.
Chaos suddenly takes over the ring, dozens of weapons drawn on instinct as supernatural slaves are forced down and away; they can't be inspired by the sudden riot.
Ezra draws back his fist, one swift knock up the man's nose killing him instantly. He can't even hear the crack of breaking cartilage past the sudden screaming and crashing of tables.
Uni and Mahin had joined the disruption, starting their own chaos from within the traffickers themselves. They both had weapons, loaded and pointed at anyone who dare attack or get close. They take out two humans and a werewolf before they make it to the stage.
Ezra spins in his spot the second before he's tackled down by a gray blur, the back of his head cracking against the wood of the stage floor as he hits the ground. He braces his hands against the other vampire's shoulders to keep his sharp fangs away, shoving hard to throw him off.
Gabe jumps off the front of the short stage, using his own gun to take out three guards that try to get past him. He spins in place, aiming and shooting the unknown vampire in the side of the ribs before he can lunge on Ezra again.
Ezra looks up, only having a brief moment to watch the paralyzed trafficker. Smoke wisps from the wound on his side, turning the skin around it black. Silver bullets don't kill vampires, but they burn.
Ezra darts to his left, reaching off the side of the stage to steal one of the many wooden stakes tucked into Gabe's belt. In a flash he's knelt over the vampire, drilling the weapon into his heart.
The distinct hiss of a dying creature fills the air, Ezra jumping farther back on the stage while the chaos continues to play out below.
Instead of going to the floor, Ezra jumps and grips the rungs of the stage. Up here the lights shine down, masking him in the shadows and giving him a view of the entire area. The battle rages on.
The vampire squints and looks to the back, swinging down and launching off after he sees members of S2 running along the back wall. Countless supernatural follow, creating their own weapons and letting out their pent up anger on those who try to stop them. There are plenty of newly freed fighters in this crowd.
Ezra lands hard on a human that had raised his gun to Mahin, snapping one of his knees backwards as they both land on the dirty floor. He finally stops screaming as six fangs pierce his throat and hands close around his neck.
Another S1 member, Oli, sprints by, partnered with a beat up vampire he must have released. Together they pass the decorative cages, unlocking and freeing every one they come across as S2 sorts through the holding room.
The traffickers begin to thin, most choosing to flee instead of risk their lives by fighting the growing army of supernaturals. Some can hardly run, while others take the opportunity and feed on the human traffickers that try to get away.
Loud bangs echo throughout the room, shaking Ezra as he kicks to his feet. This gun fire isn't from one of their members; their guns are silenced.
Gabe grips Ezra's arm, yanking him to the side and raising his gun. A young trafficker swipes the air with a wooden spike, only to be halted by a bullet in the forehead. His head snaps back and he crumbles at Ezra's feet.
"Check behind the stage," Gabe commands sharply, having long dropped the act of a trafficker, "see if anyone is hiding. They'll give the signal soon. Go!"
Ezra nods, disappearing in a quick flash up the stage wall, kicking off to the rungs again and using them to get behind the back wall. A bullet whizzes past his leg as he ducks over.
"You!" Ezra snaps, hanging down from the ceiling by one arm once he's out of sight. It's the witch that had been in line behind him, looking more frightened and confused than he had been before.
"What's going on?" the young teen cries, flinching at the shots that break the buzzing air. Another scream cuts through the chaos and shouting, cutting off with a bang and thump.
"We're crashing the ring," Ezra says quickly, nervous energy reading clear in his voice as he drops to the floor, "we're getting you out of here. Now come on, we have to go-"
"It's too loud!" the male panics, "there's too many people! I can't focus on anything, I got backed into this corner and lost my bearings- I'll die if I go out there!"
"Are you completely blind?" Ezra asks, flinching hard as a shrill whistle shrieks above the noise. That's the signal- they need to go.
"Yes!" the male cries, reaching his shaking hands towards Ezra's voice, "but normally I can use my magic to cheat around things. I use my hearing to find what's going on- but it's too loud in here! I can't-"
"We need to go," Ezra urges, reaching out to grip the teen's hand. He holds tight, feeling ripples of nervous energy shock his palm as he drags the witch around the stage.
"You're back!" Gabe greets, picking up speed as Ezra passes him. Some traffickers refuse to leave, still defending what profits they had made. Maybe just their pride.
More gunshots echo into the room, almost deafening him and making his ears ring. It's too small of a space for a gun, so loud that Ezra can hardly hear as a member of S2 drags out a deranged child by their arms. They don't take the muzzle off of his mouth.
"The cars are outside!" Uni runs up next to the three, spinning in place and waving her arms to get all of the escaped supernaturals to turn and head their way.
"Come on!" Gabe shouts, slowing his pace as Ezra leads the blind witch to the heavy door they had entered through an hour ago. He whips it open, sparking a red neon light above the door frame.
"Stairs!" he warns, pulling the witch up. He pushes his hand to grip the dirty railing, sending him up as he turns and runs back into the fight.
Ezra lunges, taking down Gabe by the shoulders as a silver bullet whizzes through where his head used to be. The werewolf gasps as the air is knocked out of this lungs, looking back up in time to see Ezra shoot off again and appear before the one that had fired. With one spin and kick he knocks the human in the side of the head, making his gun clatter to the ground and the man follow immediately after. Ezra picks up the gun, aiming down and firing one shot into his temple.
Ezra stumbles back a step, catching his balance as Gabe grips the back of his shirt. The screaming had almost stopped, replaced now by the hooting of the riot and the cries of dying abusers. It rings like deafening music in the vampire's ears.
"Uni!" Gabe shouts, seeing the werewolf kick a trafficker in the chest. Now that most of the supernaturals are gone, some brave people come back to fight. "Lets go!"
The girl drops to all fours, lunging up and tackling the man to the ground. She punches him hard enough in the side of the head to make his neck break with a grotesque snap.
Gabe suddenly screams as someone rounds the corner of the holding room, aiming swiftly and sending a single shot into the side of Uni's ribs. She hitches in her place, Ezra imagining the hiss of death as she crumbles and lands hard on the floor.
"We have to go!" Ezra pleads, eyes wide as he grips Gabe's sleeve and begins pulling him to the exit. The man that had killed Uni finally spots them, aiming quick and sending two shots into the shadows of the doorway. They're the only non-traffickers left in the ring.
Gabe staggers to the side as a bullet digs into the wall beside them, sputtering in shock as Ezra hitches and doubles over. The vampire falls to his knees, hand still holding where he had grabbed Gabe and pushed him into the wall.
The werewolf leans down and grabs Ezra under both arms, pulling him back up as the vampire cries out in pain. The silver bullet embedded in his stomach burns like fire, sending rivets of red trailing from the open wound as Gabe picks him up and carries him out of the room. It's easier than trying to drag him up the stairs to the exit.
Of every creative torture ever done to him, he's never been shot. And a silver bullet? It had been meant to kill Gabe, but luckily can only induce blinding pain to a vampire. It can hurt, but not kill.
Ezra cries as his body struggles to understand the foreign object in his abdomen, making white hot flames lick up his insides. He can't see Gabe watching down on him in terror as he scales the stairs and bursts into the cool night, having already forgotten about Uni with the rush of adrenaline.
"Here!" a voice shouts past the pounding in Ezra's ears, flagging Gabe down and helping him maneuver the vampire into their get away car. There are five in total, and they fit into the middle one as the car in the front skids and speeds away.
"It's okay, it's okay!" Gabe assures, gently yet loud enough to be heard over Ezra's crying and hissing. The grip he holds to Gabe's shoulder as he's cradled in place is painful on it's own, but not enough to challenge the bullet.
"What happened?!" Mahin exclaims from the front seat, twisting in her spot as the driver steps on the gas. Everyone left alive is accounted for as they begin their long journey down the bumpy road, trying to drown out the vampire's sobbing the entire way.