One Night at a Soul Auction Read online
Page 8
“Hello?” I reply, still looking around in an attempt to see the other girls. “Where are you? I can't...”
My voice trails off as I take a step back. I'm shivering now in the cold air, and I instinctively cross my arms and start rubbing my shoulders in an attempt to get warm.
“My father told me to wait in the clearing for him,” another voice says. “He promised he'd be right back. I haven't seen him in a while, though.”
“Did you see my mother up there?” yet another voice asks. “She must be so worried. Does she know where to find me?”
“Where are you?” I ask, reaching out but feeling nobody nearby. I turn, convinced that these voices are coming from somewhere very close, but there's still no sign of anything. “Where am I?”
“Did anyone ask after me?” another new voice asks right behind me, causing me to spin around. “Did anyone ask after Doreen? My mother must be frantic up there, trying to find me.”
“I didn't hear anyone asking after anyone,” I stammer. “Matilda must be looking for me, though. She seemed sad, and I suppose she got distracted. Can someone tell me the way out of here, so I can go and find her?”
Taking a step back, I almost trip over something that rolls slightly under my feet. I hear a clanking, rattling sound as I steady myself, and then I turn and look around again as I try to figure out exactly where I am. I know Matilda's going to come and get me, that she'll put straight whatever mistake has been made, but I'm freezing cold and I really wish she'd hurry up.
I start rubbing my shoulders harder and faster, but I'm still shivering.
“It's been so long now,” a voice says nearby. “Mother told me to wait right outside while she went in to talk to a man, but she didn't come out and then someone grabbed me and put me down here. Mother's going to be so upset when she realizes I'm gone.”
“My mother might be angry at me,” another voice says, sounding scared. “I hope not. I hope she realizes it wasn't my fault.”
“Where's the way out?” I ask, turning and looking over my shoulder but still seeing only darkness. “I'm really cold and -”
Before I can finish, I trip again. Something moves against my feet, something hard and rattly, and this time I drop down onto my knees. The rock floor is rough enough to grave my knee, and I let out a gasp of pain as I stumble back up. Reaching down, I touch my knee and feel grit mixed in with blood and torn skin.
“I want to get out of here right now!” I shout, struggling to keep from crying. “Matilda, I'm in here! Matilda, come and get me!”
“My grandmother's probably walking around and around,” a voice nearby says, “calling my name and -”
“I don't care!” I hiss, turning and looking into the darkness behind me. “Be quiet so I can get Matilda to hear me!”
“They must be so worried,” another voice says. “I hope they find me soon.”
“Mother won't stop looking for me,” yet another voice says, this time with a sigh. “She'll fine me soon, I know it. She once lost me at the fairground, but she found me very quickly. This time she -”
“Shut up!” I yell, turning and shouting into the darkness. “All of you! I don't care! Stop talking and let me shout for Matilda! If you're all shouting too, she won't be able to hear me!”
Turning, I look up into the darkness, toward where I assume there must be a hatch that I fell through.
“Matilda!” I shout at the top of my voice, before cupping my hands around my mouth so that I'm even louder. “I'm down here! Come and get me!”
“Mother will want me home for tea,” a voice whispers next to me.
“I wonder how much longer they'll all be,” says another voice.
“I didn't mean to get lost,” adds another. “I only -”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I scream as more and more of them start speaking all around me. “You're making too much noise! I want you to -”
Suddenly I hear a distant banging sound, like metal hitting metal. I turn and look ahead into the darkness, and I feel a tightening sense of anticipation in my chest as I realize I can hear footsteps coming this way. A fraction of a second later, the voices around me all let out a startled hiss.
“He's coming,” one of them says, sounding scared.
“He's coming,” adds another.
“He's coming to see the new one!”
“He's coming!”
“He's almost here!”
“Who is?” I ask, instinctively taking a step back and – in the process – bumping something on the floor. “What are you talking about?”
The footsteps get closer and closer, before stopping just as there's a jangling metal sounds. A moment later I hear what sounds like a bolt being slid across, and I'm shocked by the sudden appearance of a crack of light ahead, as if a door is starting to open. I want to rush forward and tell whoever's on the other side that there's been a terrible mistake, but instead I take another step back as I listen to the door being unlocked.
Finally the wooden door swings open, and lights floods into the chamber.
I turn and shield my eyes, but then I let out a startled gasp as I see a set of human bones on the rocky floor just a short distance away. I step back, only to bump against something with my feet. Looking down, I see that I almost tripped over another set of bones, and then I spot yet another set over by the wall. This third set still has some scraps of skin and hair stuck to its head, along with rotten rags that look like they were once clothes.
Panicking, I turn away, only to see several more bodies on the ground.
Still shielding my eyes, I start to look around the chamber. I heard dozens and dozens of voices in the darkness, but now I don't see anyone. All I see are dozens and dozens of little corpses in various stages of decomposition.
And then, suddenly, I hear a loud cough.
Turning, I look toward the door and see that there's a large man standing in the light. I think he's the same wart-covered person who threw me down here, and there's no sign of Matilda.
I start hurrying toward him.
“Stay where you are!” he shouts angrily. “He wants to get a look at you!”
“Help me!” I sob, still running toward him. “There's been a mistake!”
“I told you to stay where you are!”
“Please,” I continue, “Matilda will be -”
Before I can finish, the face of another man suddenly flashes in front of my eyes. He's staring straight at me with dark, over-sized eyes peering out from beneath a light gray top hat, and I stop so quickly that my feet catch against the rocky floor and I tumble down. Looking up as I land, I can already see that the dark-eyed man is gone.
“Like I warned you,” the wart-covered man says with a sigh, “Mr. Trelfont wants to get a good look at you. He might have a home for you.”
He chuckles, but I remain frozen on the floor for a moment.
I saw a man's face, I know I did, but he vanished just as soon as he appeared.
“Stay nice and still for the gentleman,” the wart-man says. “Don't worry, he's not going to do anything to you now. He's just inspecting the goods, so to speak, and deciding whether or not he wants to make a purchase.”
I hesitate for a moment, and I swear I can feel someone nearby. When I look around, however, I see only the scores of dead bodies.
And then, suddenly, the man appears again. Only for a flash, like before, but this time I see that he's holding a monocle up against one of his pitch-black eyes as he leans closer to me.
I let out a startled cry and pull back, but now he's gone.
“Who is he?” I stammer. “Where is he?”
“Calm down, young lady,” the wart-man says. “You'll only make him angry if you keep slithering around like that.”
“Where did he go?” I ask, getting to my feet and turning to check that there's nobody behind me. “I saw him! Where is he now?”
“Oh, he cycles through now and again,” the man says with another chuckle. “A split-second here, a spl
it-second there. He can always see you, of course, but it's a lot of work for him to remain corporeal in a way that the human eye can recognize. Not that he really needs to bother, so he only -”
Suddenly the other man leers at me, licking his lips.
He's gone again before I can even blink, but I fall back and land hard on the rocky ground.
“There he was,” the wart-man continues. “You saw him, didn't you? I think he's interested in you. He doesn't usually spend this long examining a prospect. He just makes his decision and leaves.”
“I want to see Matilda!” I yell, scrambling to my feet and hurrying toward the open door. “I want to see her right now! I want -”
Suddenly the dark-eyed man appears again, right in front of me.
I scream and turn away, and in the process I slam into the rock wall. I slump down, briefly winded, and then I hear the door slamming shut behind me. I turn just as the last crack of light is blocked, and then I get to my feet and hurry through the darkness until I reach the door.
“Let me out!” I shout, slamming my fists against the wood as I hear bolts sliding back across on the other side. “I want to see Matilda! You have to bring Matilda down here!”
“Sorry, girl,” the wart-man says. “Looks like Mr. Trelfont doesn't want you. On the plus side, though, I'm sure somebody'll be along soon who'll take a different view. And if not, we'll keep you fed and watered for a while. At least until you stop being worth it.”
“Let me out!” I yell, banging my fists harder than ever against the door. “You're not allowed to keep me in here!”
All I hear, however, is the sound of footsteps heading away, and finally I slump down onto my knees.
“Matilda'll come for me,” I whisper, sniffing back tears. “I know she will. She must be really worried. She'll come and find me any minute now.”
Chapter Nine
“Matilda won't leave me here,” I whisper, shivering on the rocky floor in total darkness. “She'll be worried about me. She'll realize she made a mistake and she'll come and get me.”
“Mother must be frantic,” another girl's voice says nearby. “Poor Mother. Why hasn't she found me yet?”
“She'll come,” I say out loud, although my teeth are starting to chatter. “Matilda just got distracted, that's all. She's only...”
My voice trails off, and for a moment I remember the way Matilda looked at me as I was being dragged away. I keep trying to convince myself that this is just a mistake, but there was something in Matilda's expression that makes me think she meant to do all of this. She was counting something in her hands, too, almost as if she'd just been paid. I don't know Matilda very well, but I thought she was a kind, caring person. She promised to help me, and she wouldn't have done that unless...
Unless she was lying.
“Sorry, Milly,” I hear her voice saying in the back of my mind. “The one good thing about this place is that you're gonna grow up real fast.”
“Did you get lost too?” another voice asks suddenly, sounding much closer.
I turn, but all I see is darkness.
“Did you?” this voice continues. “I got lost, and then I was found and brought here. Was someone supposed to look after you?”
“Who are you?” I ask, trying to stay calm even though I can't help thinking back to the sight of all those dead bodies here in the chamber. I swear there wasn't anybody else alive hiding in here, but this particular voice seems more focused and real than the others.
“I've been waiting so long,” the voice replies. “It's hard to keep track in the dark, isn't it? When there's nothing to see, there doesn't seem to be any time.”
“Matilda's coming for me!” I blurt out.
“I thought my parents were going to come for me,” she says, “and that was... Oh, so long ago. I've been here ever since, with all the others, and there are times when I think there's no point waiting. How old would they be by now, anyway? Maybe it's better to just accept that we're never going to leave this place. I mean, it's not like we're alone, is it?”
“I'm not staying here,” I reply, with tears in my eyes.
“You sound upset.”
“I'm not!”
“You sound it. You sound like you're crying.”
“Well, I'm not!” I say firmly, sniffing back tears. “And do you know why? It's because I know that Matilda is going to come and get me, and I'm not going to give up! She'll be here any minute, and then she'll be really sorry for leaving me alone and she'll probably get me ice cream to make up for it!”
As soon as those words have left my lips, I realize that they might sound a little bit silly. Still, I can't take them back now, so I simply stare ahead into the darkness and wait for the girl to say something. I'm sure she'll try to change my mind, but I won't let her succeed.
After a moment, I sniff back more tears.
“You are crying,” she purrs.
“No! I'm not!”
“You are. Let me feel.”
“No!”
“What's your name?” she asks.
I hesitate, before realizing that it can't hurt to tell her.
“Milly,” I say uncertainly.
“That's such a pretty name. Mine is Doreen.”
“That's... nice, I suppose.”
“Well, Milly,” she continues, “I'm sorry that you're upset. I'd very much like to help you feel better.”
I wait, not really knowing what I can say in return, but then a moment later I hear a very faint creaking sound. And then, suddenly, I let out a startled gasp as I feel something brushing against the side of my face. I know I should tell her to stop, but instead I sit completely still and silent as she moves her fingers across my cheek. Something feels wrong, but I'm not quite sure what.
“You're crying,” she whispers, turning her hand slightly. “I knew it.”
I open my mouth to reply, but then I realize that her fingertips are hard and brittle, like rock or...
Or bone.
“Get away from me!” I scream, pulling back and slamming hard against the rock wall. “Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!”
“You sound angry.”
“Get away!”
Panicking, I kick out into the darkness. I can't even see my own legs, but I feel my feet connect hard with something that falls back quickly. A moment later I hear lots of small things rattling as they fall to the floor, but in my panicked state I continue to kick until finally every last one of the bones has been sent skittering across the chamber. I'm out of breath and my mind is racing, but after a moment I manage to pull myself together and I fall silent, listening once again to the darkness.
Something's moving out there.
Something far away and hard, like bone scraping against the rocky floor.
“And don't anyone else come near me either!” I shout, hoping against hope that I'll sound mean. “I want to be left alone!”
I wait, terrified that I might hear something coming closer, but after a moment I realize I can actually hear some kind of faint, distant sobbing sound.
“Stop that!” I yell. “Do you hear me? I don't want to hear you doing that, it's not fair! I'm the one who's been left down here! I'm the one who's waiting to get rescued! I'm the one who -”
Stopping suddenly, I realize what I was about to say.
“I'm the one who got abandoned,” I whisper finally, before leaning back against the wall. “Matilda sold me and ran away, and she's never coming back. I shouldn't have trusted her, and now I don't know how to get out of this place. I'll probably end up like...”
Like them.
Like the bodies I saw earlier, scattered all around.
“I want to go home,” I whimper, as tears stream down my face. “I don't want to be here. I just want to go home...”
***
I don't know how much time has passed. That Doreen girl was right when she said that it's hard to keep track in darkness. Without anything to see, I feel as if I'm in a complete void. It might have
been hours, it might have been a whole day. All I know for sure is that I'm starting to feel really hungry, but that I'm also too upset to actually eat anything.
And that Matilda isn't coming back.
I keep replaying the look on her face over and over. How could I have believed she was coming back for me? The more I think about her expression, the more I realize that she had no intention of ever coming to get me. She sold me for whatever baubles she was able to get, and she's happy for me to rot down here forever. She must have realized that she was selling me into some kind of slavery, yet she just went ahead and did it anyway. It's as if she didn't really care about me at all.
She was lying the whole time.
“I'm so stupid,” I whisper, feeling a growing surge of rage in my chest. “Why am I so stupid?”
Finally, unable to hold back, I slam my fists against the rocky ground, only to feel an immediate burst of pain. I let out an agonized cry, and when I check my hands I find that the skin feels torn and they're wet with what I can only assume must be blood. All I can think about now is home, and my family, and England and all the places I like to go. What if I never see them again? What if I'm stuck here forever and ever, and I end up like...
Like all those bodies.
I wait, still sniffing back tears, but all I hear is silence.
“Are you still there?” I ask finally.
Silence.
“Doreen?”
Again, silence.
“That's your name, isn't it?” I continue. “Do you know of any way out? I mean, I suppose you don't, otherwise you wouldn't still be here. But just on the off-chance that you've got any ideas... I'm sorry I was mean earlier.”
I wait, but all I hear is my own sniffling.
“I'm sorry I said bad things,” I add, slowly getting to my feet. “I was angry and I took it out on you, and that was bad of me. I know you have no reason to help me, but I don't know what else to do so I'm begging you to tell me anything you might know. If there's even a chance of getting out of here, then I don't have a clue how to find it but you... Maybe you do. And if I can get out, I'll take you with me. I'll take any of you who want to come.”
I wait.