Auction Number One: Benjamin Smithfield

Posted: November 15, 2015 in blog, blogging, creative writing, Fiction, sci-fi, writing
Tags: , , , ,

May 5, 2117

Male; Age: 72

Status: Sold     Price: $78,000.00

A quick note: today’s victim has been heralded as “a real bargain” of a price. I believe the Elites were hoping for significantly more from each sale. However, as he is the first they’ve auctioned up, most citizens are still hesitant to participate. Sadly, I do believe the prices will only go up from here. True, this is an unfathomable amount to most citizens, but to the Elites, the amount is laughable.

I don’t know how many of you reading this were subjected to witnessing the “event”. For those who were, I give you my sympathies, but you must know, this is going to get significantly worse before it gets better.

We first met Mr. Smithfield naked, gagged and shackled. He was shivering, no doubt a combination of cold, fear and age. The poor man had clearly led a difficult life, his body marred by time and injury alike. His joints were ravaged by arthritis to which he has never known relief and hardly any meat covered his bones, yet another faceless victim of the malnutrition so many of us face.

Then, our auction victor swaggered through the doorway wearing a mask. It looked like a ski mask but was made of some type of linen. After all, we wouldn’t want our high paying patrons to become overheated now would we?

And he certainly didn’t waste any time getting his hands dirty. The door had no sooner closed behind him before he cracked his baton along the old man’s back. Mr. Smithfield’s unseeing, once blue eyes shot wide at the pain even as his body crumbled. His tormenter didn’t even say a word as he brought that baton down over and over again, driving it across arms held up defensively, legs that tried to stand or crawl away, ribs that moved into its path, and ultimately, the poor man’s skull.

There was no sound except for the abuser’s huffing and puffing as he hauled on the old body before him., and the sickening thuds that called back in response to each blow. Luckily, if you can say anything about this is lucky, his skull gave way to the second swing it endured, and thankfully, the old man suffered no more. Of course, his body received more assault, but his mind had found sanctuary. He didn’t know that the baton spilled not just his blood, but his brain matter on the cold concrete floor. He didn’t see that his skin still cracked when hit with enough force even when blood no longer pumped through his veins. He didn’t realize that if you hit hard enough, hit long enough, a head was no longer round, and he certainly didn’t know that more than eighty percent of our nation tuned in to watch his manhood be pummeled into mush.

Though our auction winner was entitled to four hours, he used less than one and walked away sweaty and utterly spent. Less than one hour to spoil a life and ensure that when his loved ones remembered him, they remembered only sorrow and pain. Then again, those very same loved ones will reach a similar end. So they won’t reflect on this long.

For those of you wondering, yes.

Each of our captive loved ones was forced to witness the atrocities committed today. They are now, if they weren’t already, clearly aware of the hell they will face.

So what was it that had motivated our buyer? Was it rage? Vengeance? Had he known the victim? Or was it simply hate or a broken psyche? Was he just reveling in newfound power, a victim himself looking to experience what Elites dole out daily? Was he simply blood-thirsty or trying to send a message to someone? In truth, the possibilities are endless. We will likely never know, but I am confident in saying this, whatever his reason, there are many, many more out there seeking something similar and far, far worse.

Though in times like this it an be difficult to remember, please keep in mind… We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.

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