The Bazaar


1. Prologue

Screams. All she could hear was a never ending chorus of screams. Screams so full of pain and anguish and hopelessness. Who was making such a sound? Why wouldn't they stop? Please stop, she silently begged. One scream was louder and half sobbing. Was that her making those broken sobs? Suddenly a light came on across the room, she stopped sobbing as the other screams around her became louder and more desperate. As she cringed from the sudden bright light she became aware of the restraints holding her up. Her wrists were cuffed to the wall above her head and her ankles spread about a meter apart manacled the the wall thirty centimetres off the floor. She looked into the light, her eyes streaming from the sudden brightness. A man walked in, she guessed he was around 20 with electric blue hair and dark grey eyes. "Fern, Fern, Fern." He tutted. "Just look at the state of your wrists, pulling at your chains won't help anyone."

Who is Fern? she thought desperately. Is he talking to me?

"You look confused Fern. You probably shouldn't think so much, your mental state is pretty delicate at the moment. There only so much one person can take. Even someone as strong as you." He strode towards her suddenly, an intense slightly crazed glint in his eyes. He stopped just in front of her. "Listen to their screams!" he cried slamming his hands on the wall either side of her head, his face just inches from hers. "They've given up, given in to the madness. And they're happier for it, no more fighting, no more pain." He stepped back and slowly removed one of his black leather gloves. As he took of the glove she could see that the tips of his fingers were elongated and slightly clawed. Like talons. "Well," he said as he ran one sharp clawed finger down her cheek, "there will still be pain. Always pain." Suddenly he grabbed the top of her leg, digging his clawed hand into the muscle of her thigh. She cried out in unimaginable agony as he tore his handful of flesh from her leg. With her scream came her memory. Her name was Fern. She was 12 years old. She'd gone to find her brother when she was taken by The Bazaar. Now she was locked up in this room with countless others. The only way to tell time passing was when the blue haired man came and tore chunks of flesh from her or one of the others.

As he shoved the chunk of her flush into his mouth, she gave in to the scream that was building in the back her throat. She felt a sharp pain in her neck like a needle, and as the wave of numbness rolled over her. Her last thought before she gave into unconsciousness was that she knew beyond all doubt that her brother would save her. A manic laugh filled her ears as her world went black once more.

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