I felt my whole body starting to slump from the depression that was overtaking me. My cares seemed to wash down me as I remembered why I was here in the first place. It didn’t matter who bought me as long as I ended up dead, I concluded. There was no point in being disobedient.

The man finished up the photo session and left me alone again, this time locking the door behind himself. I sat back down on the bench and waited, for what I wasn’t sure.

Time passed slowly in the small cell with nothing to do but sit with my mangled thoughts and shiver in the cold. I debated on asking for a blanket the next time that someone came into the room. Even the metal of my snakebites were cold as I passed my tongue over them in curiosity. My hip piercings were cold as well.

After what felt like an entire day, the door finally opened. To my surprise though, no one stepped inside. Instead, something was slid on the floor into the room and then the door was shut and locked again behind it.

I looked at the object in curiosity for a second before standing up to step towards it. It was a small pink brick in the middle of a white plastic plate. I bent over to pick it up and take it back to my bench. It was surprising light weight.

“What is this?” I asked at the door, but there was no response.

I felt a bit naive and stupid staring at it for several more seconds before I decided to gingerly poke it with my fingertip. It was porous yet solid feeling, though a few small granules grumbled off of the side onto the plate.

“Am I supposed to eat this?” I looked back at the door as if I expected an answer. No reply.

I pressed my finger onto the granules that had fallen off and then touched them to my tongue. It was bland and chalky tasting. Gross. I made a face of disgust. If they thought I was going to eat this, they had another thing coming. My stomach growled at me in disapproval.

“Tough shit.” I whispered to it. “We didn’t come here to eat anyways.”

I was beginning to wish I would have asked when the auction was taking place. There was no telling how long it would be until anyone entered the room again. I sighed at the pink brick on the plate before setting it back down in front of the door and walking over to the sink to get a drink of water.

I guess I don’t get a glass to drink out of, I thought as I turned the faucet on and then cupped my hands to let the cool water pour into them. It appeared that I had lost all of my rights to be treated like a human being. Now I was just some piece of livestock to them.

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“If I tell you, will you be obedient?” He asked.

Obedient. It wasn’t a word that was used in normal everyday conversation. What did he mean by it? I was afraid to know.

“It depends on what you mean by obedient.” My expression was cold and serious.

He sighed deeply and it seemed to resonate throughout his body, starting with the dipping of his shoulder blades and followed by a brief limpness that rolled down the rest of him.

“You’re at OWBA.” He said with a hint of dread in his voice. I looked at him strangely so he continued. “The Organization for Wild Blood Auctions.” He paused yet again, sensing my lingering confusion. “You’re going to be offered at auction to high profile vampires.”

OWBA, I thought to myself. The name wasn’t familiar. I shouldn’t be surprised with as little as I knew about vampire culture.

“Auctioned? . . . Like for dinner?” I stumbled over the question, feeling apprehensive yet silly at the same time for asking it.

“It’s a death sentence. Don’t worry.” He assured me, speaking more calmly this time as if he somehow knew that would comfort me.

“Oh.” I replied, taking a step towards the wall.

He gave me direction as to how to stand while he snapped several photos of my nude body, face forward and profile. It was a much more detailed process than I had expected. He started with full body photos and then went on to photograph various parts of my body individually.

The photo session felt like it took forever, and though I knew that I shouldn’t be uncomfortable, I couldn’t help it with all of the strange photos that were taken. He took pictures of my face, my neck, my chest, my stomach, my wrists, my back, my butt, and my genitals.

It was the first time I had ever taken nudes. I had thought about taking them several times before, but figured that there was no good reason. I’d never have the balls to show them to any girls. I was too ashamed of my . . . smallness, for lack of a better word. I was a small guy, and consequently not much was out of proportion. In fact, I felt like I was under endowed for my physique.

It was something that had been the cause of a large amount of depression in my life. I worried frequently about if girls would reject me because of it. You always hear about girls wanting guys with big dicks. I didn’t have much to offer in that department.

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To my dismay, the man bent down and put his lips around the tube, releasing the valve so that my blood flowed into his mouth. Within a few short seconds he turned the valve to stop the blood flow and pulled away, a pleased look spreading across his thin previously emotionless lips.

That action alone answered one of the questions that had been going through my mind. This man was definitely a vampire. But why hadn’t he just bitten me? I couldn’t understand. What was with all of this careful procedure?

He untied the tourniquet from my arm, then gently pulled off the adhesive tape, and extracted the needle. Surprisingly, I didn’t bleed much.

I watched uncomfortably as he pulled the tube off of the end of the needle, turned the small valve, and sucked the rest of my blood out of it.

“Very nice.” He said, and then got up to leave.

“Wait!” I stood up quickly to follow.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, his expression again turning serious as he waved a hand towards me indicating that I should sit back down and wait for him.

I sighed but decided to obey. What else could I do? I highly doubted I’d be able to push past him and make it out the door. Even if I did make it out the door, I had no idea where I was and my successful escape from the building was highly unlikely.

He left the door cracked as if he felt no threat of my escape by doing so. It was almost a mocking gesture, I thought. Or perhaps he wanted me to try to get out. I couldn’t tell. Either way, I decided to stay put.

I listened towards the opened door. I could hear the rustling of furniture, and then a scratching sound, like pencil being heavily pressed and scribbled across a piece of paper. Curiosity tempted me and I had to fight the urge to get up and peer around the corner.

Just before my resolve was about to leave me, I heard footsteps coming towards the door. The man reentered holding a small black digital camera. He glanced at me briefly and then back down at the camera as he pressed a button on top of it to turn it on.

“Stand up,” he said “and stand against that wall.” He gestured, with the camera in hand, towards the plain white wall on the opposite side of where I was sitting.

“Tell me where I am first.” I demanded, growing frustrated from not knowing.

His eyes widened a bit as if he hadn’t expected me to be even the slightest bit defiant. Then he paused as if debating on whether or not to tell me.

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