Your Market Value

   When you were all but lifted into the air as though you weighed nothing, you knew that your end would be a terrible one. An olog buying a tiny human slave? What horrible things would be done to you…? You genuinely didn’t want to think about it, so you focus on literally anything else. Something akin to fine leather rubbing against your exposed skin. The cries of crebain. A rough texture scraping against you. The thundering THUD of your new master’s footsteps- No, you can’t focus on anything else; how could you with your end drawing closer with each step that shook you to your very core? 

   Dread seized your very being when you were carefully lowered to the ground. Not dropped…? The obvious question didn’t even cross your mind, you were too busy straining your ears, listening and trying to figure out what was happening around you. Rummaging? Walking. Silence. A quiet sigh? M-More walking… No, that’s too close! What is-?! 

   Between being partially blinded as your blindfold was pulled off and the relief of your gag being removed, you couldn’t hide the gasp and desperate deep breaths you greedily gulped down. It was suffocating, not being able to see or breathe through your mouth, but the sudden realization that you can see made the sudden wave of fear that crashes over you nearly crippling. You quickly fall silent, staring owlishly at the olog kneeling beside you. He was wearing leather, but… Is that…? N-No- Oh Gods…!

   Faces. Human faces on his chest and shoulders and- He’s wearing human skin nO WHY ME WHY-?! Panic constricted your lungs and made each breath a painful wheeze. He’s going to skin me he’s going to-!! No please not- No nonono no NO…!! He didn’t react in the way you expected- really, he didn’t react to you at all- just staring at you, not bored or disinterested, almost sympathetic, if you could believe your lying eyes. When it was apparent that you couldn’t get your emotions under control, he spoke. 

   “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re probably right. The moment I laid eyes on you…” He trailed off, looking you up and down, making your skin crawl and any remaining air in your lungs expelled with a surprising amount of force. “You see, I only ever use the best for my craft, and you, little Tark-” Your entire jaw was grabbed, your head tilted side-to-side as the olog examined your terrified expression, “-are quality material.”

   Quality material. It was enough to renew your fear ten-fold and morph it into something that was wholly new and utterly disorienting. Your mind raced with various different possibilities. How can you get out of this? Is there even a way out? Can you bargain? Will your death be quick, or will it be a long, drawn out and sordid thing? Fight or flight? Fight? Flight? Fight?! Flight?! Your instincts fought against one another so fiercely that you remained utterly indecisive. Totally meek, you hardly recognize that you’ve been lifted off of your feet by your collar and were being carried off to- to who-knows-where! Everything that was happening- everything- it all didn’t feel real; like a disjointed dream, or perhaps nightmare, you couldn’t run or move or even cry. Only tremble with your teeth chattering as your muscles are all cramped and burned from being stiff with fear. 

   “Normally, I would have skinned you right after purchasing you, but since you are not only filthy-” It was punctuated by his lip curling in disgust, “-and have been behaving, I’ll allow you to be cleaned beforehand. Should save some time in the long run, anyhow…”

   You were set down onto the floor, a smooth tiled one. You could barely hold yourself upright, but it didn’t really seem to matter. Before you tilted over onto your side, you were hauled to your feet. In your entire life, even throughout the Siege, you have never been so scared that you became completely numbed by fear. Something in your chest leapt into your throat as the hem of your shirt was tugged upwards and yanked over your head. When your trousers were jerked down, allowing them to pool thickly around your ankles, a broken and breathless sob escaped your quivering lips. It was humiliating. Violating. Sick… He wanted to clean you before skinning you alive… Why not just get it over with…? You were lifted by your armpits and placed into a tub filled with warm water.

   It was barely past your waist, but was more than enough for the Tailor to bathe you properly. A moistened rough cloth scrubbed away the dirt and grime caked onto your skin. Such a thing would have been a much needed relief any other time, but now? It made you sick. Sick…! The cleaner you got, the shorter your time became. Was this really going to be it for you…? Was this troll bathing you the last… pleasant thing that you would ever experience before you died in one of the worst ways possible…? M-Maybe if you ask nicely… He’ll kill you beforehand… You couldn’t stop the hysterical sobs from spewing forth from your mouth. Your shoulders shook and trembled with each gasp you took. Instead of trying to shut you up, the olog allowed you to cry, neither using violence or spoken word to stop your descent into despair. 

   It was horrific. A nightmare come to life. You KNEW you were going to die after the city was taken, yet… coming to terms with it was something that you weren’t ready to do. There’s so much that you wanted to do… wanted to see and hear and just… just-
  “If it’s any consolation, you’re going to be something beautiful at the end of this. You’ll be treasured and well taken care of for decades to come!” He said it like it really was supposed to make you feel better. It didn’t. Though you were still crying, you didn’t feel much of anything, anymore. Cold. Numb. Nothing. Perhaps it was shock, or even resignation. You just wish it was over, already… 

   You were picked up and dried off. With each passing moment, your heart pounded in your chest harder and louder, more and more until it was painfully tight and the unnerving dread you felt earlier came back in force. You couldn’t catch your breath, no matter how hard you inhaled or exhaled. Something hurts…! Y-Your arms… a-and your neck! W-What- WHAT-?! Your arms flail and you slap yourself in the chest. Gods above-! H-Have you been-?! Is- are you dying?! Through all of this, the olog merely watches your panic and choke on your own breath. A-Are you on the floor…? Where- FUCK YOU CAN’T BREATHE!! As sudden as this change was, you were hit with both a weakness and an exhaustion that sent you off kilter and crashing to the floor. 

   This was a surprising turn of events. Has this ever happened to him before? Maybe, but then again… maybe not. All he did was step back and watch you gasp and wheeze and clutch the left side of your body, your left arm limp and useless as you writhed in pain and breathlessness. He knows a dying creature when he sees one, and if those aren’t death gasps, then maybe he’s started to lose his touch… But no. As suddenly as this fit started, it ended. You didn’t go out with a fight or even a shout; really it was less than a whimper. Kind of sad, really. Though, you did save him the trouble of either killing you himself or holding you down as he skinned you alive… You should be crafted into something special, after all, you were, by far, the most well behaved piece of leather that he had ever commandeered in his entire life! Maybe a pipeweed pouch…? Or something to hold his tools? So many choices, and only one little tark to work with… What a shame… If only you were a little bigger…