I Was Free Once

Chapter 2

I miss the life I once had.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I had it all: happiness, confidence, and a girl to call my own. It was all taken from me in one fell swoop. And then, I was brought to a place worse than Hell. A place where no one could hear my screams, see my pain, or understand my grief. A place where dreams are shattered and nightmares come true.

I stared over into the mirror that was put into my cage. They put it there as torture for me to see how weak I’ve become. The dark brown hair that fell in my eyes had grown long since the last time I had seen daylight. The scars I had were deep, never to fade anymore than they already had, some of which couldn’t be seen on the outside.

I wished I could break the mirror, so I didn’t have to see myself any longer.

As I looked away, I wrapped my gray wings, or what was left of them, around my body. The first thing they did when they caught me was cut them. They cut them like a damned bird’s. It felt as if I had no chance of escaping, along with the rest of the fallen angels there in that hellhole.

My ankles had become so red and raw from the shackles put around them. At least I didn’t have any around my wrists like before. Chained to the wall, I could hardly stand up, and I wasn’t sure if I remembered what it was like without a chain of some sort around a limb of mine. It had been years since I had seen anything but the concrete walls and bars of my cage and the occasional beating post.

I hated those bastards that put me here. They didn’t even have the decency to give me clothes. Of course not, they were demons. They treated me like an animal in the damned zoo. Every now and then, people would even come to purchase one of us. I always hated the slave trade, even before I was a part of it.

I had no name. Not there.

Footsteps were descending the staircase. I knew that one of three things was going to happen: they were going to feed us the shit they called food; they were coming with the whips to beat us; or they were showing us off to potential buyers. I could hear voices talking. Time for the asshole owners to rake in some cash.

“As you can see, sir, we have an impressive amount of slaves here. But, of course, some are worth more than others.”

“That’s quite understandable. I just need one that will obey simple commands. It needs to be broken and trainable. I can’t have it flying off, like my last one.”

I hate when they refer to us as “it”.

“Don’t worry; we clip their feathers. The older ones should be well-broken by now, seeing as we beat them regularly.”

Bastard.

“Good. Now, I think I’ll have a look around.” He went from cage to cage, asking questions and getting answers. When he got to mine, I turned my head, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Now this one, sir, has been here for years. It took us a long time to break it. We even thought for a while we would have to label it ‘unbreakable’ and kill it. But, it finally gave in, just like the rest on this floor.”

“What’s the price?”

“I’ll accept no less than 5,000 for it. It can be used for many different purposes.”

Like what, dumb shit? You have a different price for me every hour, asshole.

“Can its feathers be grown back? I notice they’ve been clipped.”

“Why, yes, of course. But, we, as the sellers, do not suggest it with the ones on this floor. It may cause them to become reckless. Now, if you’re looking for creatures to do your everyday tasks that require flying or high jumping, we have them on a different floor. I could show you them, if you like.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Give me time to think about what I’ve seen here, and I’ll contact you, when I decide what I want.”

“Let me show you the way out, sir.” They went back up the stairs and all was silent again.

At least once in what seemed like a week, a new buyer would come down and look at us. They didn’t always purchase, but, when they did, the owners of this building always brought in a new slave. And, when they didn’t purchase anything at all, like today, they would bring down the whips and start cracking them.

A little while later, after I had just dozed off, I awoke to a shouting voice.

“Alright,” the demon warden of the floor screamed, “I have orders from the owners to take out every one of you low life pieces of shit to the post and beat you.” He cracked his whip against the ground, and then continued. “And, if any of you even think of trying to fight me off, you will go through the breaking that you did when you first came here, and this time, we’ll saw off those God forsaken wings you all have!”

One by one, I could hear that bastard unchain one of the fallen angels, walk them to the post, and after of few minutes of whip cracking, bring them back and chain them again. By the time he got to my cage, I was starting to fall asleep again.

“Get up!” he yelled, kicking me in the side. “The owners were especially disappointed that you weren’t sold. So, I have a special surprise for you.” He had a sadistic expression on his face, but I didn’t care what he did to me. I just didn’t give a damn anymore.

When I reached the circular room at the end of the row, he shoved me down on my knees to chain me to the beating post it contained, as usual. I watched as he laid his whip down and poured rubbing alcohol on it. He gave me another kick in the side and set the whip on a fire. Lash by lash, I winced as the skin on my back was being burned. Finally, he put out the flame and unchained me.

“One more thing,” he said, while chaining my wrists, instead of my feet, to the wall of my cage. “This alcohol isn’t going to be used after I leave, so I decided not to waste it.” Before I knew what was happening, he had wrenched my head forward, and poured the remaining alcohol down my back over the newly formed wounds. I let out an angry scream in pain.

“You son of a bitch,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“Oh, now it’s not nice to use such naughty words. The alcohol is healing.” He shut me back in my cage.

“HEALING MY ASS!” I screamed, while trying to stand up. But, now, that he had chained my wrists in the shackles, it was impossible to do so. “YOU BASTARD!” I could hear his feet go up the stairs, and, once again, all was silent.