Temptations

The world was basically turned to ash. Dark clouds covered the skies, and for years, nothing would grow. The trees died and the flowers had wilted. People became monsters, cannibals, inhumane.

This is at least what my parents told me. And it's what their parents told them, and generations back and back and back. They called it the dark. 75% of the population was wiped clean from the nuclear fallout.

The remaining 25% was broken up into three groups to keep the peace remaining. The top group, the elites, stayed high up. They made up about 5% of the remaining population. The next group, the average, were what used to be middle class society. They made up a good sized chunk of the last people on Earth, about 65%.

The remaining 30% were the poor, now labeled as slaves. People whose only purpose was to serve the elites. There are different types of slaves. Servers, the ones who are basically waiters and waitresses. Leashes, those who are paraded around like dogs and cats. Handlers, slaves who are fit for manual labor that were fulfilled by the average. Scandalous, mainly girls who are used for their "natural qualities" to serve the men in their grossest desires. Undetermined, slaves who don't have a specific use due to age or other factors.

I am an undetermined. I am too young to know what I am good at, not to mention I had just been taken in as a slave. My parents died from an extreme unknown illness. It only affects a small portion of people, and I was immune. I'm only 18. That's when the labels are beginning to be distributed. The years leading up to a slave's 18th birthday is training.

Today is my first auction. They dolled all the girls up, making sure we looked as slim as could be. All the boys were made to look muscular and tall. The boys wore form fitting pants, while the girls wore revealing undergarments. It is an absolute vulgar display of the wants and needs of the elites.

"Alright, you all know thr rules. No funny business and this will all be over soon," one of the slave handlers yelled. He was vulgar too. He was closer to the poor, barely making it into the averages. He still treated us like crap.

The girls went first, from oldest to youngest, so I was thrown in the back, smooshed in between another 18 year old girl, and an older man.

All the girls ahead of me except for 5 weren't bought. I was coming close to the stage, the girl right in front of me stood on the stage, not bought because of her label, Scandalous.

"Next, and our final female of the night, an undetermined. Athena May, 18, 5'6", brunette, brown eyes, 105 lbs., quite feisty. She has just been brought in, and she's lived majority of her life alone in abandoned housing, running from patrol." The announcer read off of a list.

The crowd seemed to be intrigued, almost salivating at the look of me.

"Bidding begins at $20,000,"

Numbers began to be screamed from the crowd. Men of all ages would raise their voice, yelling a number higher from the last. They were eager to get their hands on me.

"$400,000," a gentleman shouted in the front of the room. He wore all black, with decorative chains on his wardrobe.

"What a number. Sure she's worth that much?" another elite asked the man.

"Oh absolutely. I do train these girls, after all. She'll be a fun one to break," he smirked.

I began to thrash. No one was gonna 'break' me. No one would lay a hand on me, let alone put me in chains. The guards from behind me had to grab me by the shoulders, and almost pinned me to the ground, when a man from the shadows spoke.

"$200,000,000. And I dare one of you to bid higher,"

I looked up from the guards, and I saw a tall man, walking towards the stage. He had ivory skin, with dark hair and a muscular build. He wore a black suit, sleek and almost demanding. I didn't know who he was, but I knew he was important.

"Well, Lord Emory, are you positive?" the announcer asked. Lord Emory nodded.

"Anyone else want to bid?" the original man slunk back in his chair after the announcer asked. No one dared go against this Lord Emory guy.

"Sold, to Lord Emory Kingston!"

The two guards behind me picked me up and threw me backstage. I hit the floor, hard. My head began to throb and my vision blurred. I tried to get up to tell them off, but I fell back down.

Strong arms picked me back up off the ground. The man that held me had muted grey eyes, a strong jaw line, and a familiar ivory complexion.

"I just got you, and they're already throwing you around," he whispered to me, "If a bruise so much as shows up on her, I'm suing the crap out of this place!"

It was Emory. He picked me up with such gentle care. I wasn't expecting him to be gentle.

"Don't worry, princess, we're going home."