Mind Games

“What are you doing — take her out of the cage,” Munster says to his handler bluntly.

“I already tried sir, she is... uncooperative,” the handler hesitantly replies.

“Oh, come on — we need to show the audience she is healthy.” Munster bends over, opens the cage door, and sticks his hand inside.

The wolf girl swings her chained hands at the arm reaching for her. The shackles around her wrists slamming into Munster’s hand. He yanks his hand out of the cage, shaking it in pain.

Osric is standing on his chair again, enthralled by the wolf girl’s brazen attack.

“Just get out of the cage,” Munster says through clenched teeth, sticking his hand into the cage once more.

“Don’t touch me!” The wolf girl growls, showing her shining white fangs.

Just as he is about to touch her, she sinks her fangs into his hand, amidst more primal growling.

“Aah!” Munster cries out in pain, pulling his hand out again.

Munster holds his right hand in his left as it drips blood onto the stage floor. He looks at the wolf girl in pure shock as the air in the auction house seems to stand still. Osric watches on, holding his breath.

As several more drops of blood hit the stage, Munster’s face twists in anger. He swings his foot into the cage. The wolf girl, looking up at his face, doesn’t see the kick coming. His foot contacting her cheek sends her head clanging into the bars of the cage. The wolf girl lets out a pained and shrill grunt as she bounces off the bars and falls to the floor.

“Listen here, you savage! I own you, you do as I say.” Munster grabs her by her hair, yanking her out of the cage. She yells in pain.

“I bought you for an outrageous price, you are going to stand here and present yourself so I can sell you for a profit — understand?” Munster holds her in the air by her hair, staring into her eyes.

The wolf girl nods.

“Good.” Munster sets her down next to the podium.

He points at his handler, who walks over to showcase the girl's teeth and tail.

“Now,” Munster clears his throat. “Bidding starts at twenty gold, who wants her?” His hand rests on the podium, still bleeding.

Broadhold stands, raising his hand, his belly shakes as he does.

Osric starts rummaging through his leather sack, counting to himself. Let's see, I heard from merchants that half-beastkins can go for anywhere from fifty to two hundred gold coins. If I take the hundred Angus gave me and combine it with the thirty from that pouch I “found” on the ground, I could have enough. Broadhold already bought several slaves, no way he has this much cash on hand.

The poor thing just got beaten and is about to be sold to that tubby creep over there... I don’t even want to imagine what he’ll do to her. The thought of the wolf girl's potential fate makes Osric shudder.

“Twenty-one!” Osric stands on his chair, raising his short arm as high as he can.

Broadhold looks over at Osric. “A boy?” he says, surprised. “There is no way a small boy like you has twenty-one gold coins,” he adds, almost scoffing.

“Anyone going higher than twenty-one?” Munster’s bellowing voice cuts through the tension.

“Just try me.” Osric hits Broadhold with a smug look.

Broadhold exhales sharply, narrowing his eyes at Osric. “Twenty-two!” He raises his hand again.

“Twenty-two! Do we have more—”

“Twenty-five!” Osric exclaims, cutting off Munster.

Osric now looks at the stage, his head barely poking over the rows of seats. His gaze moves from Munster to the wolf girl on the stage. They lock eyes — the wolf girl looks up from the floor for the first time since the bidding started, and she looks right at Osric in the back row. Osric’s raised hand becomes a thumbs up as he gives the girl a smile. The miserable look in her eyes doesn’t waver as she looks back down at the floor.

Osric throws both of his hands up. I guess I didn’t get through to her. I just wanted to tell her I got this in the bag... hopefully.

“Fifty!” Broadhold says confidently.

“Oh! Mister Broadhold with fifty!” Munster shouts out.

Osric turns his head to Broadhold, now leisurely sitting in his chair

Osric brings his hand to his chin, worriedly. Why would he jump to fifty like that? Is he feeling me out? There is no way he has this much left — I should have been paying attention during the other sales to see how much he was spending. I’m gonna call him on his bluff — he’s betting all he has, thinking I can’t match fifty.

“Fifty-one!”

Broadhold breaks out laughing. “I knew your Father’s pockets weren’t that deep, boy.”

“One hundred!” he says between cackles.

Osric collapses into his chair. Damn! He got me. I fell right into his plan... Wait, what am I doing? Osric shakes his head, coming to a realization. Why am I even playing mind games with this guy? I’m spending all I have to save this poor girl.

“One hundred thirty!” he rises again.

Broadhold stands again to look at Osric, his jaw dropping.

“One hundred thirty! Mister Broadhold, can you go above that?”

Munster waits for a response... nothing.

“Sold! To the boy in the back.” Munster smacks his gavel on the podium.

The handler leads the wolf girl backstage; she cooperates, not resisting this time.

“That concludes tonight’s auction. Buyers, please come backstage to collect your slaves.” Munster turns to walk backstage.

“Munster! Old friend, please let me go back to my estate to get more gold! We both know I can afford twenty of her!” Broadhold pleads.

Munster, turning back around, shakes his head. “You know that's not how this auction works, Broadhold, should have brought more with you.”

“No, please! I didn’t bring much because the rumors said your haul was pitiful.” Broadhold runs into the aisle, his belly jiggling. His brown, puffy trunkhose trousers slipping down. He gets down on his knees to beg, his powdered wig almost falling off his head.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, now come on back and collect your slaves.” Munster walks off.

“I can’t lose to a child!”

Osric heads down the aisle, passing Broadhold. “You know that's not how the auction works, tubby.” He flashes his tongue at Broadhold.

“I can buy your whole city, boy! I will not let you have her, I’ll take her by force if I have to!”

Osric shakes his head in disbelief of what he’s hearing. Does this guy hear what he’s saying? He sounds like a child on the playground bragging about their rich father. Pathetic.

Osric makes it to the stage and pushes the curtain out of the way to reveal a long hallway with many doors on either side. He sees Munster, with his hand bandaged, and the brown-haired handler standing at the leftmost door.

“Sir... Uh, should I call you sir? How old are you?” Munster says, signaling for Osric to approach.

“Eh, don’t worry about it, call me Osric” he replies, stopping at the door.

“First, the payment.” Munster holds out his hand.

Osric hands him his leather sack. He briefly peeks inside before handing it to the handler to count. The handler nods to Munster.

“Right then.” Munster opens the door.

In the small room there is a pile of moldy hay in the right corner and a table in the other. A lone candle flickers on the table — the only source of light in the dank room. The wolf girl sits slumped in the left corner, the shackles on her wrists chained to the table bolted to the floor. She looks up at Osric. Her expression is still dead.

“Uh, yo.” Osric waves at her, stepping into the room. She looks back down at the floor.

He looks up at Munster. “So, can we get the chains off her?”

“Certainly... But first, we must activate the slave collar.” Munster pulls a metal collar out from behind his back.

“Uh... can we not do that?” Osric cautiously asks.

“No, we must.” Munster walks over to the wolf girl. He kneels down, unlatching the collar.

“Whoa — hold on! She’s not wearing a collar. She doesn’t need one, does she?” Osric, holding his hands out, tries to stop Munster

Munster stops, the unlatched collar already around the girl's neck. “She has no previous owners, so she has yet to receive one.”

“Then she doesn’t need it, right?”

Munster stands, solemnly staring at Osric. “I don’t think you understand, Sir Osric. You’ve bought a slave — a slave only obeys your commands if they’re wearing this collar.”

“No, I get that... I’m just saying I don’t want the collar — Okay?”

Munster steps closer to Osric. “I have a reputation to uphold, I don’t want you complaining about a disobedient slave. As you’ve seen, she is... headstrong. I certainly don’t want to hear reports in town about a rogue slave harming residents.”

Munster snaps his fingers, the handler with brown hair steps into the doorway, blocking it.

“All hundred-thirty coins are there, sir,” the handler says.

“Good, now let us begin the collar activation ritual.” Munster claps his hands.

Osric assesses his situation, sizing up Munster and the handler blocking the door. Do they intend to fight me if I say no? I don’t think I can take them with this tiny five-year-old body, even with my magic.

The book Angus gave me said slave collars are originally demon magic. The demons used them on humans during the great demon war. Humans don’t know how they work — meaning if they put that on her, I wouldn’t know how to get it off. It's also excruciatingly painful, or so the book says. I didn’t want it to come to this — sorry girl, I think this is the only way.

Osric sighs. “Alright, let's just do it.”

“Very good.” Munster latches the collar around her neck, the metal ringing as the wolf girl flinches.

“Now then, come over here to the back of the collar.” Munster instructs, pushing the girl's head down, giving Osric a better angle of the magic circle on the back of the collar.

Osric observes the intricate magic circle, the circle encases a diamond. Various symbols Osric can’t read are in-between the outer circle and the diamond. Inside the diamond, another circle with more illegible writing. So this is a magic circle — Demon magic. Still unknown to humans, and I can’t read any of it.

“Here,” Munster hands Osric a needle. “The circle is activated when the blood of the owner comes in contact with the circle.”

“Hey, do you know how this magic circle works?” Osric asks.

Munster shakes his head. “All us slaves traders know is how to activate them.”

I figured as much. Osric pricks his finger and watches as a drop of blood falls onto the magic circle.

The circle glows purple as it seems to absorb the blood. The whole collar now glows the same deep-purple.

The Wolf girl shrieks in pain, crumpling onto her stomach. Purple streaks of light shoot off of her body, almost like lightning. She convulses on the floor in pain, tears pooling by her face. As the glowing lights slowly subside — she stops moving.

“The activation is done,” says Munster as he unlocks the shackles around the girl's wrists with a key in his pocket. “Once you’re done here, the back exit is the last door of the hallway, straight ahead.” He points to his right. He gets up, walking to the doorway.

“Hold on! Is she okay?” Osric asks.

“She’ll be fine. The pain doesn’t leave any lasting damage.” 

Munster waves. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He and his handler leave the doorway, walking down the hall.

Osric looks down at the wolf girl, unconscious on the floor.