The cold, basement of the slave trade center, slave 016, sits huddled on a dirty mat. His name, lost in captivity, is only known in the recesses of his mind… Jace.

His brown eyes show a story of stolen childhood and relentless abuse. Now, he waits for his new owner - panic grips him, his fidgeting hands and trembling breaths shows very little on what he is feeling - terror.

“N-not again…” He whispered shakily, his frail form is dirty and injured as he clutches his knees in the dim light.