Jude whispered the word to the empty, wooden room. It felt heavy on his tongue. It was a word that belonged in the web novels he read during his lunch breaks.
It wasn't a word that belonged in his actual life. He started pacing back and forth in the tiny space. His bare feet kicked up small puffs of dust from the dirt floor.
He put his hands on his head and gripped his hair. His fingers felt the messy strands he had just seen in his apartment mirror. But everything else was wrong.
'How can this be happening?'
In every story he knew, this happened to people who had nothing. It happened to the lonely guys. It happened to people who hated their lives or had no one left to go home to. Jude wasn't that guy.
He had a perfect life. He had a job that didn't feel like a chore. He had a group of friends who were always there for a drink or a laugh.
Most importantly, he had Alowen. She was the kindest person he had ever known. She was the woman he was going to marry.
A lump formed in his throat. Tears started to blur his vision. He couldn't stop them. They tracked hot paths down his cheeks.
"Why me?"
His voice cracked. He felt a surge of genuine anger.
"There are people out there who are actually suffering. There are people who want to leave their lives behind. Why did it have to be me?"
He grabbed his face with both hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wake up. He wanted to hear Alowen's voice on the phone again. But when he opened his eyes, he was still in the hut. The smell of damp wood and old smoke didn't go away.
He stood up and noticed something leaning against the far wall. It was a jagged piece of polished metal. It was propped up on a crate. It acted as a crude mirror.
Jude walked over to it. He was hesitant. He was terrified of what he might see. He looked into the reflection and froze.
He looked exactly the same. But he was different.
His face was his face, but the features were softer. He looked much younger. Back on Earth, he was a grown man.
Here, he looked like he was sixteen at the very most. He was shorter too. He estimated he had lost at least four or five inches of height.
Then he saw the biggest change.
His eyes were a deep, piercing shade of red. Back home, his eyes were blue. These new eyes looked like rubies. They were striking and unsettling. They didn't look human.
He stared at his reflection in total confusion. He didn't understand why he looked nearly the same but felt so alien. He sat back down on the hard wooden bed. His legs felt weak.
'What is Alowen doing right now?'
The thought hit him like a physical blow. He tried to count the hours. She would be at work. She would be expecting a call on her break. What would she do when he didn't answer?
He imagined her calling his phone over and over. He imagined her driving to his apartment. She would find his car in the driveway.
She would find his clothes on the chair. She would think he vanished. Or worse, she would think he died in his sleep.
He bit his lip to keep from sobbing. He had to stay focused. He couldn't afford to break down yet. He needed to know where he was.
Jude stood up again. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. He walked toward the heavy wooden door. It didn't have a handle. It just had a simple leather pull. He grabbed it and yanked it open.
The light outside was blinding for a second. He squinted and stepped out. The sound that hit him was deafening. The sound of misery.
He saw a long line of small wooden huts just like his. They looked like cages. There were people tied up everywhere. Some were sitting in the dirt.
Others were slumped against the walls. They all looked exhausted. Their clothes were rags.
'Am I a slave?'
The thought made his blood run cold. He looked around the central clearing. A man was walking between the huts. He had a long sword strapped to his waist.
The man was massive. He stood at least 6,5. His shoulders were incredibly broad. He wore dark leather armor that looked like it had seen years of use. A thick, white scar ran from his forehead down to his jaw. It pulled the corner of his mouth into a permanent sneer.
Jude tried to take a step forward. He wanted to ask a question. He wanted to know what was going on.
The scarred man turned his head. He caught Jude's movement. He stared at Jude with a gaze that felt like a physical weight. There was no mercy in those eyes. It was a look of pure, cold authority.
Jude froze in place. His heart hammered against his ribs. Fear, sharp and cold, paralyzed him. He didn't ask for this. He didn't belong here.
Then, another man appeared from behind one of the huts. This man looked very different. He was skinny and slightly hunched over. He wore thick glasses that sat crooked on his nose.
He was dressed in fancy, flowing robes. They were made of a deep purple silk. His hair was thin and had obvious bald spots on the top. In his hands, he held a heavy iron neck chain.
The skinny man walked straight toward Jude. He looked at Jude like he was looking at a piece of bad meat.
*"Come here, nasty vermin."*(he doesn't understand the words so using this ** to show that.)
Jude stared at him. The words made no sense. It was a series of sharp, guttural sounds that he had never heard before. He stood there with a dumb, confused look on his face.
The skinny man's face twisted in anger. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and swung his open hand.
The slap was loud. It echoed through the clearing. Jude's head snapped to the side. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground. His cheek burned with a white-hot pain.
Before he could even process the hit, the man grabbed him by the hair. He pulled Jude's head back and snapped the iron chain around his neck. The metal was cold and heavy. It felt like a collar.
Jude was in shock. He didn't fight back. He didn't know how. He had never been hit in his entire life. He realized the reality of his situation now.
He was property.
The man shoved Jude back toward the open door of the hut. Jude stumbled and fell onto the dirt floor. The door was slammed shut. He heard a heavy wooden bolt slide into place.
He was back in the dark. He sat there, his hand on his burning cheek. The iron chain rattled against his collarbone.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through the center of his skull. It wasn't a normal headache. It felt like someone was driving a hot needle into his brain. He gripped his head and curled into a ball on the floor.