Chapter Text
An electric sting caused Oswald to come to his senses, pain pulsing in his neck where the needle made contact with his skin. As his blurry vision focused on his surroundings, he realised that he was already put on display. Light flickering above his head was variously coloured and the neon glow filled the room with dimmed shine that reflected from the walls surrounding them. Even though the object they used to wake him up indeed looked like a regular needle, its purpose differed from the normal one in many ways. Instead of inserting and exporting fluids to or from one's body, it applied an electric impulse under one's skin. The impulse was strong enough to make one flinch or groan in pain, and often caused bruises and scars to appear on the skin where it was applied, but didn’t cause any life threatening injuries. This was how they woke them up every time, right before they were put on display.
Colours flashed before his eyes, and he knew that if he was about to be exposed to this kind of exposure for a longer period of time, he'd end up with a headache. But even sooner than he became aware of what was happening around him, he noticed the smell. He could never mistake this scent for anything else. Nothing in the world could quite compare with dozens of bodies being put on display, each more naked than dressed, and covered in powder to stop them from sweating. Some were even allowed to wear perfumes, but this applied mostly to women, especially those who were high on demand.
Some of them were tied up by thin metallic strings, which gave the impression of being quite easy to break, but in reality they would more likely pierce through the skin of the displayed if they tried to sabotage them. Oswald was lucky enough not to be wearing one, his days of being tied up were thankfully over as he had already accepted his fate and didn’t aim to cause any trouble.
Looking around the room, he noticed couple of new faces. There always were some newbies, every day new replicants were produced. At first they were designed to help people who were busy enough to deal with ordinary things, and more complex ones carried the minds with IQ higher than average human. Artificially made humans, not a tiny bit different from the naturally conceived ones, created as help and companions, even faithful friends. But as it usually ends with everything when people are involved, companions turned to slaves and were soon moved to the black market. They became illegal property, but that didn't stop anyone with enough money or power from acquiring some. From helpful companions their purpose changed into something more unrefined. People had managed to completely black out the fact that they were living, breathing creatures, whose feelings were equal to their own. Replicants became slaves, or even worse objects of pleasure, bought and traded as if their lives didn't matter. And truly, they didn't.
A soft cough coming from his left side made Oswald turn his head, eyeing its source. A small boy with curly brown hair was displayed by his side, tied up with strings so he wouldn't try to run away. Tears were swelling in his eyes as well as running down his rosy cheeks and leaving wet stains behind. This was obviously his first time being presented to the potential buyers.
"Worry not. The business is often unfair, but there are rules. Nothing bad is going to happen to you." Oswald encouraged him, offering the boy a weak smile. Of course, he didn't tell him that the rules were easily bend or overstepped. But knowing how much effort the owner put into keeping things clean and untraceable, the boy might have a hard life in front of him, but at least he wouldn't fall in hands of those who took pleasure in children as small as him.
The boy did not answer, leaving Oswald to wonder before he noticed a tiny mark on his price tag. Something was wrong with the boy, something didn't go as planned while he was manufactured. Maybe that was why he didn't reply. Or maybe he was simply too scared to say a thing.
Oswald was distracted from his thoughts as all the lights in the room went on, causing the displayed to cover their eyes with their hands. Those who were tied up lacked such an option and were exposed to the bright light coming from above. Oswald raised his hand to hide his eyes from the blinding shine, and as he glanced at the fingers covering his face, he noticed they were trembling. In fact, his whole arm shook.
The owner, a thin woman with her hair cut short and dark skin that glowed under the light from the reflectors, started checking the last details before the buyers would be let in. Walking through the crowds of replicants, she nodded her head at some, adjusted someome's posture or swept unpleasing hair from one's eyes. She was never mean nor rude to the displayed, and she never laid a hand on a single person. One might easily fool her for a person of soft nature. That was, however, far from the truth. She was cruel, but in different ways than aforementioned. She ran the business with a firm hand, and has never shown a bit of compassion to the objects she sold. And yet, Fish's market was considered to be one of the more humane ones. She didn’t sell babies, and if kids were involved, she took her time to gather information on whoever she sold them to. Regarding to adults, she left the buyers to do whatever they wanted with them. This wasn't a sign of any mercy or compassion, children were simply more checked on by the government, and as long as she kept her market clean, they would look the other way when she needed them to.
The onlookers started to stream into the building, quickly filling the entire space. Soon the place was crowded and filled with excited chatter about which one of the displayed seemed to be the best in their price range or whether this one looked much better than their previous one. Oswald couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the replicant they now had to replace.
Oswald snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed something was happening on his left side. Some woman seemed to have taken interest in the little boy by his side, and a pair of men was already standing in front of him, one of which was scanning the code from the boy's price tag. He was already sold then. Soon, he would be led away and Oswald would never see him again. Meeting anyone of their kind after being sold was highly unlikely to happen. For a reason yet unknown to Oswald, he felt almost a father-like urge to protect the little boy, but there was nothing he could do. Especially nothing that wouldn’t make the things even worse for the small one.
So instead, he tried his best to make a kind and reassuring smile appear on his face. “You’re a strong young man. Whatever the universe has planned for you, you'll find the strength to deal with it,” after this he lowered his voice so only the boy would be able to hear him. “Keep your head down, and observe. Once you've gathered all the information, strike unexpectedly. And try to make important friends, you never know when you'd be in need of their help.”
The boy simply nodded in response and continued nervously chewing on his lower lip. Soon after that, the strings restraining him were cut and he was gripped by the arm by one of the men. He gave Oswald a tiny wave with his hand before he was led away to meet his buyer.
Oswald focused his gaze on the crowd of people. Everyone seemed too invested in the new models, people created to match regular's desires. Girls skinnier than it would be naturally healthy, men with muscles that would take years to build if they weren’t produced artificially. Oswald was much different from the newest creations. He was indeed a man of good looks, but tiny imperfections could be find along his body. His nose was a bit bigger and more crooked than it was normal, his skin shades lighter than other's. Being in a market as big as this one, it was no surprise Oswald hadn't been bought yet. This was much better, after all. As unbelievable as it might seem, the least cruel part of replicant's life was on the market. Once they were sold off, no one had any control over what happens to them, especially not themselves. Oswald hoped to spend his life here, being displayed and then bathed and put in tiny dorm-like rooms, far away from dangers of the outside world. But his prayers weren’t fulfilled.
Moments later, the same duo of men stood by his side and scanned the QR code from his price tag. After the machine rejected a soft beep and the men exchanged a look, Oswald was grabbed by the arm and dragged across the room to a big wooden door. He caught his last glimpses at the display room, trying to remember faces of replicants surrounding him. Even given the fact that he hadn’t spoken to nearly any of them, he was aware that those were the only friends he would ever acquire. From now on, the hard part of his life was about to begin.
“You’ll work under Mr. Maroni as an assistant,” one of the men explained, after they had successfully passed through the huge set of doors.
Assistant, Oswald nearly scoffed. He would most likely work as a slave, doing all the hard work his buyer was too lazy to deal with. Maybe even something worse.
“If I were you I'd keep my mouth shut and do the work. Man power such as you can be easily replaced.”
The tone in which the last word was said indicated that there was no going back once one was replaced. Oswald narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. Even while knowing nothing about the place he was going to be sent to, he knew his life was about to change for good.