Hi! I just started this story on Tapas two days ago and wanted to add it here. I hope y’all enjoy it!
March 23, 1096
Chains dragging against the stone ground echoed through the dark, empty halls. The noise continued as the person entered a new area, bursting with noise. Open cages surrounded the hall where others rested. They also wore chokers and long chains covering their wrist and ankles as they talked and ate.
The sound of chains hitting against the stone ground was a regular thing that everyone grew used to—it was like white noise to their ears.
The people barely wore clothes as cloth only covered their goods. Instead, every scar they had, and even their brands, were on display for everyone to see. Even the chilly air in the place stopped making them shiver after many years of being there.
“Hey, 49, we saved you some soup!” One of the people greeted him as they noticed 49 walking into the room. Others turned to look at 49, tilting their heads in acknowledgment as he walked past them.
49 took a seat on one of the chipped logs, joining the one who called for him—three other people sat with the person.
Reaching over, 49 grabbed the once warm soup, picking up the spoon from inside as he started eating. Once the musty bread soup entered his mouth, 49 started gulping it down. His starving stomach twisted from finally eating after 24 hours.
“Woah, calm down, you are going to end up choking, and I don’t think Master Wind wants to lose his best fighter.” Another exclaimed as she watched 49 stuff the food down his throat.
“I agree with 22. Master Wind would beat us worse than before if he lost you; you are his moneymaker.” The man, B, responded—he was the one who called 49 over.
And lastly, the other man with them, Z, hummed in agreement.
After taking another gulp, 49 slowed down with a sneer at the mention of their master. That greedy, nasty man starved him for 24 hours because he refused to kill his last opponent.
The watchers were unimpressed, raging even, as they asked for refunds due to the unsatisfying battle. Master Wind was furious and would have whipped 49 if not for King Yvet and his family visiting the Colosseum real soon. He needed his top fighter in pristine condition.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
49 rqbxf cb kbgvr, gfwjlclcu weaf ys mtblmf rlcmf Zjrafg Qlcv ybeuta tlw ogbw atf vjgx wjgxfa akfcas-atgff sfjgr jub. Dea tf vlv cba cffv ab ajix; tlr cbc-nfgyji gfrqbcrfr rqbxf ibevfg atjc jcs kbgvr.
D rlutfv, rtjxlcu tlr tfjv yfobgf ifjclcu mibrfg rb cb bcf firf yea atfw mbeiv tfjg tlw. “49, mea atbrf atbeutar lwwfvljafis. Qf cffv sbe ab ygfjx bea bo tfgf.”
22 scoffs, angrily whispering, “Are you still on that? Did you forget what happened to the others that tried to escape? It ain’t worth it, okay. There is no escape, especially with these slaves brands on us.”
Z lightly tapped his spoon on his bowl, catching their attention, “Before we worry about that, did you hear that the King is coming tomorrow? I know they are going to want you out there, 49, but don’t your heat start tomorrow?”
Most slaves were betas or alphas. Omegas sold on the dark market go towards the whore houses, become concubines, or work as maids in royal and noble homes. But, very few omegas, who are too ugly or infertile, are sold into slavery.
Omegas are not allowed to use suppressants, especially a slave. And, that is what the watchers want. Because when omegas are in heat, they are weaker—and what’s better than an omega in heat going into battle? Nothing.
49 glanced at Z with eyes that said, “That is what he wants.” Nothing brings money in than 49 fighting multiple people during his heat. He has done it many times before, and each time, his scars continue to grow.
“Z, you know we don’t have to worry about that,” B rolled his eyes, “49 always prevails.”
Before the conversation could continue, 49 stood up with an empty bowl in his hand. He walked away without a word, making his way towards one of the cleaners. Once he got near the cleaner, the person jumped, putting space between them as 49 dropped the bowl inside the bin.
He did not mind the frightened look and reaction from the cleaner; it is a common occurrence.
Cleaners are low-class slaves who get the brunt of everything. They are practically nothing in the eyes of everyone, and people could use them for anything—that is why they fear everyone around them.
Plus, every other slave understood; they all started as low-class slaves.
49 walked back to his cage, closing the metal bar doors behind him as he lay on the makeshift bed of fur and hay. He lied on his side, staring at his scarred hand with narrowed eyes. Thoughts did not pass through his mind as there was nothing to give. He learned long ago that he is not going anywhere—broken dreams and hope have zero merits here.
He pulled his hand close to him, ignoring the cold metal touching his skin as he closed his eyes, falling to sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day—a day that will change his life forever.
Fire blazed across the vast house, entering the courtyard as people ran from the home, screaming for their lives. A young boy of four laid stuck inside, crying and choking from the fumes of the smoke.
He sat in his closet, tightly holding his bear against him while wrapping his arms around his legs. He tried to seem tinier than before so that the flames could not touch him. But, it was futile as they continued to grow without stopping.
“D-Dadd—” the boy tried screaming once more with a hoarse voice. The words died down his throat as another harsh cough coursed through him.
He did not want to die, but he started to lose hope as tears rapidly fell from his eyes. Even his nose ran, mixing with his tears as he tightly closed his eyes, clenching the stuffed animal until it tore in his hand.
The falling bear represents his crushing hopes.
And before life could become dull in his eyes, the door to his closet broke open as the sound of someone coughing overtook his.
An older man stood on the other side, using the cloth from his sleeve to cover his nose as he squinted his eyes. “Min!” He yelled.
Hearing the familiar voice, Min instantly opened his eyes. His tears blurred everything around him. But he didn’t need to see to know that the man was his father. Min dropped the torn bear, running to his father as he wrapped his arms around him.
Even though they both were overheated and sweating from the heat, it did not stop them from enjoying the embrace.
The father touched his son’s head before tearing his sleeves, wrapping the cloth around his son’s nose and face to block the fumes. He quickly picked up his son, talking him out of the burning home as he pushed the boy’s face into his chest.
Min stayed quiet, gripping his father’s shirt with tiny clenched fists.
Running through the flames as they began taking over everything, the father covered his pained groans as the fire burned his clothes and skin. He even tried to hold back coughing as the fumes consumed him. He could barely breathe and see, but the adrenaline in him kept him going.
The father did not care for his life but his son’s. He would do anything to keep the boy alive. When they finally reached outside, the father could no longer go on, dropping to the ground.
Min fell with him as his father landed on his back. “Father, father!” Min shook his father, feeling his hold becoming lax on him.
One arm slid to the ground as the other one shook while trying to pull forward. The father touched his son’s cheek, trying to move his lips and stay awake before slipping away.
Once his father’s eyes closed and his arm joined the other on the ground, there was nothing there but a lifeless body. Min kept shaking his father, screaming and crying from him to wake up.
His screams echoed louder than the falling, burning building.
Another man walked forward as he stared down at the boy and dead father with a triumphant smirk. “I told my brother I will have this house.”
Min quickly snapped up in anger once he heard his exiled uncle’s voice. He lowly growled, getting ready to attack the man, when someone grabbed his neck from behind, choking him.
The uncle walked closer, reaching eye level with the struggling boy that wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out. “Such a feisty boy,” the uncle laughed before his eyes turned sharp, “you will make a perfect slave.”
Then his uncle waved his hand as everything began to turn black for Min. He glanced towards his father then his uncle in rage. Min declared that one day he would get his revenge.
Too bad that dreams die once you are stuck in hell.
A good one.. looking forward to the next chapters ♥️♥️
Thanks for the chapter!