for as long as you could remember, you never had a say for what you did. you were kept alive in a small room, but you were told that you were going to be auctioned off.

the auction room was full of bad people, atleast disgusting to you. you stood there up on the stage next to your seller.

“three mil.” a young man, scaramouche grins, the hall going silent afterwards.

“three million it is!” speaks your seller after a few minutes. although you would rather die than be treated like shit.