In a world very different from our own, Mohinder finds himself not only a newly turned demon, but now in chains, waiting for freedom to walk through the door... and eventually she does.
Nightmares quickly faded into the harsh truth of reality as they prodded Mohinder awake. At least the poking wasn’t accompanied by electricity like last time, and for that he was at least a little grateful. Oh, that was right - today was the big day and they couldn’t risk damaging themerchandise. Still, all he could do was reply with curses in his native tongue and feral growling as he staggered to his feet. After shaking off a blanket, he wrapped it around himself, the top drooping over his face, covering it in darkness. Although everyone else seemed excited, he certainly wasn’t. Not after last time; not after everything had ended in bloodshed.
They shouldn’t have pushed him. It wasn’t his fault. They were asking for it.
Although he desperately wanted to huddle up in the corner and snooze, he knew that tactic wasn’t possible today. So instead, he sat facing the bars that mocked him and his longing for freedom. Yes, he was a demon, but in the grand scheme of things, a harmless one. Okay, so technically he had killed people, but only the ones that deserved it. There was no other choice in the matter for him with the conditions of his turning. But now, with his kind locked up and powerless, the world was running amok. As long as the humans had their pets, who cared though, right?
As the shadows of prospective buyers loomed over him, his stare remained focused on the ground right outside of the prison bars. Eyes determined and lips defiantly pressed into a line, he waited for this to be over with. One would think it might have helped for him to act aggressive, but that was what some of the bullies were looking for - a pet to beat into submission. There were lewd conversations held where he could hear, but he remained unphased. Even if he had to rot in that place, it would be better than having to repeat the past.
After the crowds began to thin, Mohinder’s shoulders fell as though a weight had been lifted from them. With a sigh, he turned to crawl back to bed. But then, he spotted her. The beautiful woman stuck out like a sore thumb among the riffraff that these places usually attracted. Oh yes, she had money. He wasn’t going to complain though, and began making himself presentable as the click of her finely crafted shoes became louder with each step. Off went the blanket and his tattered shirt, in went a comb through his curls, and after a quick glance into the small mirror in the back, he returned with his most pitiful expression, complete with Bambi eyes. And there might have been some flexing going on as well. What woman could resist a gun show? Hopefully not her.
After catching her attention, Mohinder gave a small, shy wave, beckoning her over. “I can cook. I can clean… I can perform any sexual act you wish. My people wrote the book on it, you know.” Normally he wasn’t so blunt, but desperate times and all that…