Revolutionary

Frank awoke to an ambush of cripplingly cold water. “Good morning, slut.” The sleazy voice of the guard rang deeply in Frank’s subconscious. A kick in the rib cage forced his eyes open. “The Ways are here.” He sang. His yellowing smile (well it was already yellow, Frank supposed the proper adjective would be browning or maybe greening) shone brightly in the candle-lit hallway.

The mockery of a guard led Frank to an empty, cream-colored room with two sets of shackles, each bonded to the floor. Frank’s hands were tied together with the rusted chains and his neck was locked into an iron collar. The guard exited and brought back a small table which was then placed in front of Frank. The other human up for sale was restrained in the second set of chains and collar as a table similar to the one in front of Frank was put in front of him.

There it was. The door. The people who came through it held Frank’s destiny in their lifeless hands. A woman in a lab coat brought out six small cups. She placed three on Frank’s table and three on the other human’s. She smiled at each of them. God, don’t these people realize what they’re doing? They’re sending us to our death, and they have the audacity to smile about it? Frank’s thoughts were interrupted by the aforementioned door opening.

“And here they are!” A cheery banal tour guide voice accompanied by its source and three other people entered the room. “Oh this is always such an exciting day!” She said jittering, pulling out a clipboard. The four bloodsuckers approached the nameless (at least to Frank) human. “So, based on your specifications, we’ve found two different options. This here is Nathaniel.” She gestured to the olive-skinned, brunette boy. Each of the three vampires picked up a cup of what Frank assumed to be Nathaniel’s blood and sampled it like fine wine. “He’s five foot nine, seventeen, one-hundred-and-twenty-one pounds, and type O negative.” The older woman (Mrs. Way?) looked at the cup of blood with discontent. “It tastes a bit bitter, don’t you think dear.” The older man nodded, but the boy (Gerard?) remained indifferent.

“Well, that’s why we always have plenty of options.” The small group walked towards Frank. “Now, this is Frank, he’s five foot six, seventeen, one-hundred-and-eighteen pounds, and type O negative.” The vampires sampled the blood in the same manner they tasted Nathaniel’s, but this time they seemed content. Gerard’s expression didn’t change at all, but the mother’s and father’s did. “Now this is O negative!” she exclaimed. “What do you think dear?” She caressed the boy’s black hair. He looked at both her and the blood with utter distaste.

Frank’s fate was sealed. He was going to be purchased. He was going to be tortured. And he was going to be killed.

The next few minutes were a blur. They were a cavalcade of warm light and dark shadows. Before Frank had time to realize that he’d been bought he was already at the Way’s manor, or more specifically Gerard’s room. He was almost positive that someone had led him up to the room, but Frank was so dazed that it was almost impossible for him to really comprehend anything entirely. He attempted to study the room to draw his mind away from his impending death, but was interrupted when the door in front of him opened. For the second time today he dreaded the horrors that lurked behind a door.

Gerard entered the room with an equal amount of disgust that he had shown at the factory. He stepped towards Frank who cowered in terror. Gerard stopped, seeing that he’d upset Frank. “S-sorry.” Frank muttered. He pulled back the sleeve of dress shirt and offered his arm to Gerard. Offer him your blood. That’s what you’re here for Frank. You’re a blood slave nothing more. The vampire approached him, kneeling down to his level. “That’s not necessary.” Gerard said pulled the black sleeve back down. Frank looked up with bewilderment. “You’ve probably heard some pretty nasty stuff about my family, right?” Frank nodded tentatively, trying to gauge Gerard’s reaction. “Well, it’s all true.” Frank backed away from Gerard again, who approached him once more.

OH FUCK. Jesus FUCK, what the hell is he going to do to me?! Oh, I already know the answer. He’s going to torture me right? Torture me then drink me as a little midnight snack. He’ll drain me. I know it. I’ll be dead before sunrise. I need to get out of here. I need to leave right now. Frank’s eyes glanced around the room in a desperate panic. THE DOOR! What had once been his demise now became his saving grace.

“Exce-” Gerard started a sentence that Frank wouldn’t hear the end of. He bolted, standing upright and sprinting towards the door. Don’t be locked, don’t be locked. Frank thought fiddling with the handle. “Hey, wait-” Gerard said standing up. He flung the door open and tore outside. YES! He was going strong until he hit what seemed like a wall of iron.

Notes

Another quickie, but it's definitely getting more interesting.