Author p. o. v
Mexico __ 9:20pm.
The warehouse was lit up with neon green light, causing a dim glow over the room. The eerie hue cast shadows on the dusty concrete floor, creating a mysterious atmosphere that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared to enter.
The walls were lined with stacked high with boxes and crates of all shapes and sizes. The air was thick with the smell of musty cardboard and old machinery, adding to the sense of foreboding that permeated the space.
Men sat around waiting for the auction to start, some of seem wealthy in their expensive suits. While few were in causal clothing.
In the corner of the warehouse, a lone figure sat leaning on his seat. Marco, exuded an air of danger that had the other patrons shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Despite his intimidating presence, Marco seemed relaxed as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
This trade is highly confidential, for any one present here the organizers didn’t their research.
Unfortunately for they, they are unaware of the unwanted guest in their midst. Marco Alfonso, soon to be their worst nightmare.
Everyone was wearing a Mask to hide their identity, it’s the rule here. Having theses wealthy men involvement in their illegal trade is risky, mask is shielding them.
That’s a huge advantage to Marco, everyone would recognize him even in the dim light if not for the mask. His intentions are will be hidden, and will be faster.
The neon light reflected on them, giving them an otherworldly appearance.
A man came up the stage, he was also wearing a mask one that would make a child run the opposite direction. All attention on him eager for tonight’s purpose to begin.
“Welcome, everyone, to tonight’s auction,” the man announced, his voice booming through the room. “We have some beautiful items up for bid, as we always do, these are our lovely young girls.” He smirked as he watched the crowd.
He knew they were going to make millions tonight.
The audience murmured in excitement as the girls were paraded onto the stage, their eyes downcast and their bodies tense. They were dressed in revealing outfits, their chains clinking as they moved.
Fear embedded in their minds as they realized they were about to be sold. They had been captured by a mysterious group that dealt in the trafficking of young women, and now they were about to become commodities to the highest bidder.
As they stood in line, waiting for their fate to be decided, a sense of dread hung in the air. Who were these men and women who would willingly participate in such a cruel industry? What drove them to exploit innocent girls in this way?
“They are beautiful” a man in the front-row comment, his eyes scanning the girls.
“These are young women trained and prepared to serve you, any of them belong to the highest bidder,” the auctioneer explained. “They are here for your pleasure and entertainment.”
One by one, the girls were led forward, forced to walk in front of the crowd as the auctioneer described their qualities and virtues. It was a sickening display of objectification, reducing these young women to nothing more than goods to be bought and sold.
“I’ll start the bidding at $1, 000,” the auctioneer announced, his eyes scanning the room for any takers.
“I’ll take it.” A man from the back row yelled, starting the purchase.
“$2000” a man in the back called out, his voice filled with greed.
“$3000.” Another challenged.
The bidding continued, the prices rising as the girls stood silently, their faces blank and their bodies tense. They were nothing more than commodities to be bought and sold, their lives reduced to a price tag.
“I want all of them.” Marco spoke up, his words successfully rendered everyone speechless. The once noisy atmosphere, everyone raising their voice over the next person staking their money, has now quiet down to a pin drop silence.
The air in the auction room crackled with tension as Marco’s words hung in the air, sending a shiver down the spines of those present. His eyes were ablaze with determination as he stared down his opponents, all of whom were now frozen in disbelief.
As the auctioneer looked around the room, waiting for a response, Marco sneered and raised his hand. “I want all of them,” he repeated, his voice low and menacing.