36A knock on the door made Dannon look up from the book he was leaning over.
"Yes?"
"Sir. Your delivery is here." The butler's hair was getting more gray than black lately. When was the last time the old man refused his offer of retirement?
"Already?" Dannon checked the time. He hadn't thought they would arrive until later that afternoon. "Are the preparations ready?" He asked, closing his book and fetching his white gloves from beside him on the table.
"Yes sir." The butler replied, watching as he put them on.
"Thank you Phillip. I'll take it from here." Dannon passed the old butler to eagerly walk downstairs. He could barely wait to get started.
Two big men were waiting for him by the entrance, obviously hired more for their muscle mass than their good looks. One of them had his hand firmly on the shoulder of the chained up slave standing in their midst. The slave's eyes were on him the moment Dannon stepped into view, but his glare had lost some of the fierceness of their last encounter. His energy stores were probably more drained. Two days had passed after all, and they probably didn't feed him as much once he was paid for. He didn't seem harmed though, except for a couple of bruises on one of his shoulders.
"Is that really necessary?" Dannon couldn't help but ask, pointing to the dirty rag in his mouth.
"I'm afraid so, sir." Dannon quickly turned to see a third man standing by the stairs, greeting him nervously. Judging by his slender build and focused look he was probably the brains of the gang.
"One of our men lost a finger." He explained apologetically. A dangerous glint lit up in the slaves eyes.
"Oh." Dannon said, slightly uncomfortable. "Surely, I will pay for the damage." He glanced up as the butler finally came walking down the stairs.
"But first," He said then, turning to the slave and the muscle-men surrounding him. "Would you be so kind as to help me get him to his room?"
"Certainly, sir." The man behind him eagerly said, probably hoping for a bigger tip. He signaled the others, and Dannon gave them a solemn nod before turning to the right and continuing down the stairs to the basement.
It had taken quite some preparations making the small room into a suitable cell. Not only had they had to change the door into a more solid one of steel, but the iron bars outside the small window were a surprisingly complicated investment. You couldn't see much of it now though, as the curtains were pulled shut, giving the room a gloomy mood. The room itself mostly remained the same though, and in addition to the small bed they also put in a wooden tub. The cream-colored walls didn't really match with the shackles they had bolted into the far wall, but the whole thing was only temporary after all.
He pointed and the men led in their prisoner, taking off their own ropes to put him into the chains. One of them held him while the second fastened the cuffs around his wrist with practiced movements, seemingly unmoved by his struggles.
Dannon dismissed the men with a nod, and they silently exited the room.
As his hands were now moveable, the slave took the rag out of his mouth, throwing it after them as they left. It landed by Dannons feet where he stood by the door, and he took a small step back from the blood-stained fabric. He looked up from it, studying the newest addition to his household.
"My name is Dannon Miller." He said, gesturing to himself to underline the statement.
The slave demonstratively slid down into a squat, leaning against the wall. His arms hung slightly by the chains as he silently watched him. Maybe they should have made them slightly longer after all.
"I assume you're tired." Or furious. Dannon crossed his arms. "We can speak tomorrow. I have arranged for my servants to tend to you today, so please take your time and relax." He waited a moment for any response, but the dark haired man stayed unmovable. As expected, he didn't seem to be much in a talkative mood. Hopefully some food and rest would do the thing.
Closing the door and locking it, Dannon left him there as he walked back to the entrance to sort out the payments. How much was a finger worth anyway?
The human left, and Red was alone in the gloomy room. Hanging his weight on the shackles, he leaned forward, resting. His head throbbed, but even though he closed his eyes he tried keeping the sleep at bay. Who knew what plans that weak human had for him if he really fell asleep?
The way he had looked at him. It was different from the others. They all looked at him as if he was an animal of course, like a filthy dog, or a dangerous bear. The slave-owner saw only profit, but that was a whole other story.
The blonde human who now thought he owned him looked at him the way children look at a new toy. He had spoken to him in even tones, unlike the others, but there was no telling what he was planning. Did he think he could "tame" him? Having him like some pet? There was no way that was going to happen.
A bolt was slid, breaking the silence and waking him from his slumber, and a small hatch in the door was opened, letting more light into the room. The old man from earlier came into view, peeking through the bars. Someone whispered beside him, and the hatch was closed once again but he could still hear the muffled sounds of voices. What in the world were those humans up to?
The door was eventually unlocked and opened, revealing the whole man. He was slender, just like the blonde one, but old. It seemed his hair had been black before it grayed, and the way he talked earlier seemed like someone below the younger man. His back was straight though, showing pride, and he clearly was no lowly servant.
"Welcome to the Miller household." He said with a slight hint of sarcasm, only pausing a moment before entering. "My name is Philip, as you may have noticed earlier, and the young master has asked me to see to you."
Red lazily leaned back against the wall, following him with his eyes as he walked to the window, pulling aside the dark curtain. They both squinted slightly as the room brightened, revealing all of its details.
"We" Philip turned around and paused, and Red followed his impatient eyes to the empty doorway. Excited whispers could be heard from outside the door before two young females, maybe slightly younger than himself, nervously shuffled inside. They each carried a bucket and it seemed like they tried staring at him and not looking at him at the same time.
"We are here to prepare a bath and clean clothes." Philip continued, and Red moved his eyes away from the girls to rest on the old man. "Do you understand me?"
Red didn't make any move to respond and Philip sighed, gesturing for the girls. As if they suddenly remembered why they were there, they hurriedly walked over and poured their steaming water into the tub before hurrying back out of the room.
The girls returned two more times with buckets of water, and on their third round Red gave in to temptation. He made a quick hand-movement, getting a loud clang from the chain which tightened, and one of them screamed, losing her whole bucket into the tub with a splash. She whirled around and jumped back, and Red snorted, allowing himself a smile. The other girl had already composed herself, and she threw him a look before silently fetching the bucket from the hot water.
When they came back later the one named Philip was with them again. One of them carried clothes and towels, and the other a tray with food, making him even more aware of his empty stomach.
"Glad to hear you're having fun." The old man commented dryly as the others put their things down on the bed. "Supper will be brought to you in the evening, but until then we will leave you for now."
He paused as the girls left the room, and then fetched something from his front pocket. He gave him a calculating look which Red calmly met, before he then bent down and Red jumped slightly as something metallic quickly crossed the floor and it hit the wall, coming to a halt right between his feet. It was a small key.
He looked up in confusion just in time to see the door close, and after a moment the hatch opened once again. "It is the key to the handcuffs." The old man explained just as Red realized it himself. The coward didn't even dare give it to him directly. They both knew he couldn't reach it with his hands though, and he shot the old human an angry look before slowly getting to his feet.
He shook off some of the stiffness from his legs and put a hand towards the wall for balance as he picked up the key with his toes. At least this meant the man didn't think he was a total idiot. Once he had unlocked the cuffs the small hatch shut, and he was once again alone.
He rubbed at the sores on his arms from these shackles and others he'd worn these last couple of weeks. It was almost weird not feeling their weight around his wrists. He barely glanced at the food and steaming bath as he headed for the window.
The green he'd glimpsed from afar turned out to be parts of a garden, but because of the angle he couldn't see much more between the bars than that one bush, some grass and a wall. The sun was shining though, and the leaves were slightly moving in the wind.
Using the small handle at the side, he opened the window, feeling the slight draft against his face. They had driven for some time before arriving at the large house, and the air felt cleaner than in the city. His head cleared up at the faint smell of grass, and taking a deep breath, he turned to lean against the wall by the window.
This whole thing hadn't turned out like planned at all. A dirty, hungry slave locked up in a cell… He left the window open and walked over to inspect the door. The small hatch was locked, and of course he couldn't open it from inside. He slammed his fist on dark grey surface, bringing out a satisfying clang. The door itself seemed pretty sturdy, and even as he put his ear to it he couldn't hear any sounds from outside. He sighed.
At least this cell was better than his previous one. Comfortable and clean. The only bad smell was coming from him, and they had even given him what he needed to fix that as well. Maybe they'd noticed. He'd nearly gotten used to the overwhelming stench of piss and sweat back in the city, and he probably smelled much worse than he thought. When was the last time he'd washed properly anyway?
He walked over and tryingly dipped his fingers into the warm water. It really was hot, nearly boiling. He'd rarely bathed in water as hot as this even in the red. It was too warm for comfort, but at least he'd be clean. He let his whole hand sink beneath the surface, feeling the warmth.
It was probably safe… but bathing now would be following orders. He pulled up his hand, bringing some water up to his face as he turned around, and his eyes were instantly pulled towards the food on the bed.
Yet another temptation.
He'd eaten nothing but thin soup lately... Eating their food would be giving in too. It could even be poisoned, as some sick joke or experiment. Maybe that was why that human bought him? Cheap, sick entertainment.
His stomach growled at the smell of the stew at the center of the tray. It was probably already lukewarm by now, and the smell would get weaker as it grew cold, making it more bearable.
It was definitely much more filling when it was warm though.
The pieces of meat and vegetables looked rich in taste. Probably slightly salty. Beside it were slices of bread with a crunchy brown crust and a thin layer of butter. He felt its taste in his mouth just by looking at it. It was probably even fresh. His stomach growled again, and he sighed, rubbing his face.
Damn.
So there you have some of Red's point of view as well.
I hope this beginning isn't too boring x)