David's shoes rang out loudly on the industrial flooring. The painted gray floor gave little personality to the building, but neither did the plain white walls and ceilings. The entire hall felt like a simple cog in a machine, completely and utterly uninteresting in every way. A few doors lined the sides of the hall, each one painted to match the wall except for a small glowing panel near the steel handles. He felt confined and claustrophobic in the hall; he jammed his hands in his pockets to avoid clutching the man walking next to him.
The prison guard matched his pace with David. A black man with bulging muscles, he looked like a man who could snap David in half. But, whenever David glanced over, the guard just gave an easy smile back.
“First time here?”
David nodded, “First time I ever came to a prison.”
“Just got some weregild?” The guard spoke with a northern accent. David guessed he came from near Maine or Vermont, but he couldn't tell much beyond that. He shook his head as he answered.
“I got mine a few years ago, my sisters,” the guard nodded with understanding; there were very few ways of getting that first weregild, losing a family member topped the list. David gestured to Terrance who paced at the end of the hall.
“Hyper-boy up there just won a bet and feels the need to burn through his winnings.”
The guard grinned, “Most of our customers are first-timers or people like him.”
Before him, Terrance toyed with the handle for the door but the keypad buzzed violently to deny him. The guard started to speak up but Terrance managed to trigger the security system. He yelped as the handle electrified. Whimpering, Terrance rubbed his hand and called to David. “Come on, dude, all the good ones will be snatched!”
David looked over at the guard who shook his head.
Terrance ignored them. “Come on! I want me a prison bitch!”
David muttered under his breath, “I'd like someone to make him a prison bitch.”
The guard snorted, probably enjoying the mental image as much as David. They reached the door and Terrance hovered near it until the guard glared him to the side. Then, he ran his hand on the keypad which registered his identification. A short series of sixteen keys and the door unlocked. Terrance managed to slip up and yanked it open, bursting into the prison wing before the guard could respond.
David held his breath as he walked through himself.
Then let it out in a whoosh as he found himself staring at the true face of blood money.
It looked like the typical movie prisons. A wide hallway for a couple hundred meters and cells lining both walls. Above him, six more floors towered above him. Netting split each floor to catch the garbage, pieces of paper, and—to his surprise—an arm. He gaped at the severed limb.
The guard stopped next to him. “There was a fight, must have missed it. Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you.”
For the briefest of moments, David considered cowering next to the guard. Even if it made him look like a pussy. Then, he found his own strength and looked for his friend.
Terrance managed to slip between two buyers at the near cage. He spoke intently with a statuesque woman wearing the standard prison outfit: thin cloth top that barely covered her large breasts and tiny shorts that barely covered her hips. An outfit designed to attract buyers and give them a view of what they could buy for a single weregild. David looked down the hall and saw more prisoners at their bars, some of the naked while others jammed their breasts or cocks from the cage in hopes of luring the attention of some buyer.
He ignored Terrance and wandered down the hall. Curious, he peered into the cells as their occupants called out to him. It sounded like a flea market, but instead of tacky “art” or replica watches, they called out their sexual prowess or willingness to do anything to be purchased. A man with a shaved head offered to lick his ass while a girl probably not even thirteen cried out her desire to be his dog. David shuddered and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
The idea of buying a life, even here, felt so wrong to his thoughts.
The further he walked down the hall, the more desperate the voices called out to him. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach as men and women alike clawed the air for him, begging for their freedom and promising everything. His roving eye caught sight of exposed assholes and pussies, open mouths and people on their knees in submission. He found the tattoos and scars fascinating, but didn't dare stop to inspect any in detail.
He didn't want to give the impression he would buy anything.
When he reached the end of the hall, he stopped at another locked door. He turned back and stared down the hallway. None of the other buyers got past the first dozen cells. He felt terribly alone, except for the dark skinned guard who followed him.
“Sir, it would be easier if you stayed with your friend.”
The man spoke respectfully but seriously.
David sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, just looking.”
“Not a problem,” said the guard, “just doing my job.”
David looked up, “How do I go upstairs?”
“The best selection is down here.”
“Probably not,” grumbled David.
The guard raised an eyebrow, “How so?”
“The buyers don't go that far in. I'd say the ones down here are the ones you want to get rid of or the ones that bribed their way to the front, right?”
The guard answered with a smile, then opened the door behind David. “Elevator is back here.”
The elevator looked large enough to handle a dozen people. David felt even more alone as he stood in the middle. The guard double-checked the car before locking it shut.
David pointed up. “To the top?”
The guard shook his head, “No, you want five.”
“Why?”
“I think you'd like the fresh ones. Five is where we bring in the meat. Most of them have been here less than a week. Innocent.”
David felt a flush rising on his cheeks. He swallowed hard before answering. “Oh. Okay.”
The guard laughed. The elevator lurched and lifted them to the fifth floor. When David stepped it, it felt a like a different world. From his vantage point, all these prisoners were dressed more conservatively. Their tops reached their pants and he didn't see a single bared breast or penis. He did see tears and dejected looks as they stared into the corners of their cells, each one in their own little, sad world. The fifth floor felt… raw to him and he found his heart beating a little faster.
He didn't make it more than fifty steps before the prisoners around him realized he wasn't a mirage. A buyer on the fifth floor. A scrambling of feet as they pressed themselves against the bars. Some of them unbuttoned their shirts in imitation of those down on the first floor, but there was a hesitation in their movements, a despair in every action.
In the cell nearest to him, a gang member simply reached out for him. “Please save me?”
The hand almost touched him but the guard cleared his throat. The guard carefully pulled out a shock wand and hefted it in his hand. The gang banger withdrew his hand before the guard shocked him and whimpered. David gave him a pitiful smile and continued on, walking in silence and feeling his heart pound.
Near the end of the one side, the sight of one of the prisoners caught his attention. A brunette woman with curvy breasts and hips sitting with her back to the wall. In her lap, a slender blonde sobbed pitifully. David stopped and stared at them. The brunette's eyes focused on him, matching his gaze. Bright blue and intense, they seemed to pin him in his place.
“That's Naomi,” supplied the guard.
David jumped, “What?”
“The girl with the blue eyes. Her friend is, um, Christina.”
Lowering his gaze to the sobbing blonde, he spoke in a whisper. “What are they in for?”
The guard pulled a small computer from his pocket. Thumbing it on, he aimed the tip toward a 2D bar code on the door. A microsecond, the computer beeped and he read from the screen.
“Naomi lost an academic lottery for a school. Winners get to roast the losers. But, looks like she fled for Mexico and the blonde went with her.”
David shivered, “Rough place.”
“Yeah, but Naomi's parents called her in for the reward and they caught them heading out of Denver. Looks like there was a fight, Christina got arrested for assaulting an officer and kidnapping charges. They convicted Naomi of fleeing a legal debut and impersonation. Life for both of them.”
“When is the conviction anything but life these days?”
The guard shrugged, “I think littering, maybe.”
Terrance stepped in front of David and gasped. “Oh. My. God. They're perfect, David!”
Both David and the guard jumped. Snarling, the guard raised his hand to shock him, a reflex action of a prison guard. His other hand snatched Terrance and spun him around.
Terrance slammed against the bars of the cell and he let out a high-pitched shriek. “Don't kill me!”
“How did you get up here!?”
Terrance babbled, trying to pry the massive hand from his shoulder.
David rested his hand on the guard's shoulder. “Sorry, that's Terrance.”
The guard relaxed, snatching his hand back from Terrance.
Terrance gave it only a second thought, then turned back to the cell to inspect Naomi and Christina.
Confused, the guard turned back to David.
David shrugged. “Terrance has this knack of getting into the wrong places.”
“We're in a prison. Behind three locked doors and an elevator.”
David could only shrug again.
Terrance squealed and peered over his shoulder. “Oh, they are perfect, David! I'm getting them.”
David started to stop him, but hesitated.
Terrance focused on the guard to start ordering.
Inside, the blonde gave David a heartbreaking look on her face, then burst into fresh tears.
The guard looked over to David, giving him a chance to purchase them first.
David had the money, he could. His eyes slide over to the Naomi's intense gaze and the back of the blonde crying in her lap. He imagined the blonde slave before, giving Victor head, and felt an incredible desire to feel it himself.
Then, he sighed and shook his head. “Let him have them.”