What had once been a banquet hall filled with laughter and polite conversation had now fallen into a hushed anticipation.
The male host smiled, his voice louder as he gestured toward the stage behind him, where a red velvet curtain hung from the ceiling.
It parted like a fountain.
And the first cage rolled out.
Metal bars gleamed under the spotlight.
Inside was a young woman huddled, her head bowed, wrists bound behind her. Her hair was smoothed, and her dress pristine and thin, shaping her figure seductively.
As soon as she was out, she did not scream. Her pupils were blown wide and empty.
But no one seemed to think something was off.
A murmur swept through the hall.
"A good one, don't you think?" someone muttered.
"Her skin is smooth and pale. It's going to be a good one to leave a mark on."
The host smiled contentedly at the guests' interest in the first good that came out.
