Chapter 1: Sold Again
A Pet’s POV
Inhale.
The smell of Spring daffodils and wet grass after a rainstorm.
Exhale.
Metal banging sounds and soft sobs from some run down the line. A bird chirping in flight.
Inhale.
Fingers fidgeting through the soft white fur of her own tail. Layered hair tickling her shoulder blades and forehead in a light breeze.
Exha—
A loud shout jolted her blue eyes open to Master against the fence of the run next door. The pretty redhead there rushed to the gate and he clipped a lead to her permanent collar. She was led away and it was momentarily quiet again. So much for her grounding exercise.
Her eyes travelled down the line of runs to the other pets. Always nekos, like her. Part cat but mostly human looking, and as varied in appearance as any human sampling. She had heard their kind were originally bred as companions, but as the world disintegrated, they devolved into nothing more than slaves. At the end of the world now, they were no more than currency.
She tucked strands of white hair over one white cat ear at the top of her head and turned to watch the direction her current Master had left in. He had been the most decent owner so far, albeit that was mostly due to his constant absence.
She didn’t remember much of her young upbringing. Pieces of memories strung together painted a clear picture of being born in a breeding program and trained for servitude.
Passed on then from Master to Master. The Pet Store Master with his steel cages and beer belly. The vampire in his fortress with a demand for complete silence and darkness. Then the Elite Sisters; vampires from the underground coven who knew only cruelty and spoke a different language.
Near-death, she was traded lastly to this Master who seemed to be another middle-man seller with some beautiful stock. He’d given her time to heal, and the rare interactions were a welcome change. She knew how lucky she was to have survived not one, but two vampire homes, but she also knew that her survival had never been about her. It was the rarity of her blood that made her valuable enough to keep alive.
She watched the Master's approach now though with a sense of dread, cemented when he pointed directly at her. Time was up. No amount of a ‘smell-hear-feel’ exercise would keep this panic surge away.
She stood from her cross-legged sit to meet him at the gate with eyes trained to the floor. A click to her collar and a small tug led her from the reprieve of the hot sun back toward the cold indoor kennels. Her shaky legs somehow worked.
They took a left on their way and her bare feet touched plush blue carpeting in a new room. Rapid breaths brought the smell of beer and whiskey into her lungs, and somewhere a cigarette was burning. Her leash rattled her collar loop and in her side glance she saw the pointing down command. She less kneeled and more dropped. In a side eye the other way she saw the red head similarly kneeling with chin on her chest.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…
“As requested, these two are the newest. The white one is a bit bruised and aged, but the small red girl is young and very obedient.” It was Master’s voice.
This must be the viewing room, she thought between panicked breaths. She nibbled her bottom lip in a nervous habit and fought the urge to lift eyes and see the potential buyers. It was strictly forbidden to make eye contact. That was one rule universal to languages and locations.
“And blood types?”
She frowned and closed her eyes to fight against tunnelling vision. No! More vampires.
“The ginger is A positive,” She felt Master’s shadow move behind her. “An’ this one’s O negative. Always a crowd pleaser.”
A sigh from in front preluded one of the buyer’s disinterest. “Neither for me Alex. A real ssss-shame you sold that olive sweetness out from under me. I had to go and catch my own dinner. Tedious.” His voice was silky, deep... and very scary.
Master hurried his excuse out. “Y-yes, an' I've said I'm sorry, sir. It’s first come, first served. You know that I wouldn’t dream t’ piss off the leader of the City Coven! Buuut I ’ave a lead on another though, and you’ll be the only one I call when I ’ave her.”
“You better.” The man sounded bored under the veiled threat. Some finger snapping sounds made her flinch. “Now, you. Pick one.”
Keys jingled and someone to her left seemed to stand as footsteps headed her way. Muddy military boots hidden under overhanging dress pants stopped inches from her knees. “Her,” he said simply.
Her stomach lurched into her throat, a sound like rushing water flooding her ears with a full-blown panic attack imminent. A blood pet, again! Through the roar of panic she tried to listen to the transaction details, passing of documents, and a reading of some disclaimer waiving any refunds for any reason including ’accidental draining’. Her collar was tugged and she stumbled ahead to follow.
The two Masters rarely spoke during the drive, so she took the opportunity to look out the small rear window and gradually push past the worst of her panic attack. The Spring greenery of the kennels dissolved into city streets and forgotten buildings. The delivery truck turned into the lot of a crumbling multi-level high rise and she read a lopsided white sign out front.
City of Lost Angels Hospital
She bit her lip and quickly dropped eyes back to her lap when the doors opened and she was pulled from within. Dressed in only a short sun dress and thin underwear, her bare feet padded carefully on the cracked pavement between wind gusts. Entrance doors slid open and ornate carpets with plush couches filled the converted lobby.
The smooth, scary voice of the man named Damien suddenly spoke, "Drop her upstairs and meet me in the Red wing. We've lost most of the day on this little... errand. You'll make up the time." He strode in the opposite direction, heel clicks the only thing making a sound in the huge lobby.
She followed quickly behind her new Master's boots through a maze of sterile hallways, stairs, and sliding doors. Keys and clunks opened a door and they stepped through the threshold into her new home.
Inhale. Exhale.
