Words of the Soul chapter 1

Words of the Soul
A Sonic the Hedgehog fanfiction
Warning: This story is a Sonadow.

You have been warned.

Summary: He was only a few years old when he was found and taken in. Owned and treated like hell, the blue hedgehog found his only escape in his words. When he catches the attention of a reclusive writer and publisher, however, his luck seems to change, and with it, his whole life.

Chapter 1

The bindings were tight. They encircled his wrists, part of his forearm and bicep, wrapped around his chest and waist and the more around his thighs and ankles. The bandages were little more than restraints to keep the blue one quiet and submissive. A thick gag was tied around his mouth, tied in the back after having been rewrapped upwards over his eyes. He was on his knees, forced there by the one intent on showing off the fine hedgehog like so much property to be sold at an auction.

As things were, that's precisely the scenario.

His ears were folded backwards and his hands were bound behind him, bare and gloveless and the only comfort he had were in his always pristine shoes, the golden buckle and center sole the only parts that gave away how bad off he was. He was thin – had always been, but now he was unnaturally so – and every single rib was visible through his ragged blue and peach fur, some showing signs of abuse in the form of ugly purple and yellow bruises. His arms were in terrible shape, one having been broken before and never set correctly, resulting in an awkward heal that thankfully only truly hurt when he fell on it the wrong way, and the other a bloodied mess with dark imprints suspiciously shaped like hands lacing them up and down between the bindings. His legs were misshapen as if they were constantly forced into awkward and unnatural positions and his quills were disheveled and stuck up in an uncoordinated manner, the downward swoops splintered and ill kept.

The noise around him was deafening, as with the removal of sight and his body bound, his hearing increased tenfold. His already intensely sharp sense heightened to the point that the slightest whisper shouted like a shout right beside him and he found himself suppressing a wince every few seconds. So concentrated he was on his current task, he nearly failed to hear when the man beside him, someone he had known far more than he'd liked for the past several years, leaned in subtly to mutter in his ear.

"Hold your head down, you moron! Don't make yourself look your age! Try to appear as young as possible and I won't have o cut off your tail!" A threat; he should've expected as much. He himself didn't talk. He wasn't retarded to the way of speak and in all actuality, language skills came easily for him, but in self preservation, he'd shut down his vocal talents around anyone other than himself unless he absolutely had to open his mouth. And even then, it was rare.

He wasn't very old, but his youthful body belittled his true age. Due to malnutrition and poor health care, his growth had been permanently stunted and he appeared several years younger than his true age of fifteen. He was short and lean, and this contributed to his looking between the ages of ten and thirteen. He didn't know much about life outside of the man that owned him and the places he took him to and the things he made him do.

Suffice to say, the blue hedgehog was very afraid of change and right now, with the thought that he was being sold to some sort of black market, he was terrified and had his eyes not been covered, he'd of been sobbing uncontrollably.

Nodding, he tried to stop himself from trembling; ducking his head so low his nose nearly touched the floor. He, like all others of his species and several not, had the natural instinct to curl into a protective ball when things got too difficult or scary.

All he received for his efforts, however, was a sharp crack across the cheek, a red mark staining the place where the hand had struck him. "Stop that. You look like a damn idiot when you do that. Just sit there like a good little bitch and when someone finds you interesting, I'll get their money and you can go be someone else's little whore until they get bored of you, too."

He hated words like that. They made him feel useless an like he was nothing more than someone's little toy; a plaything to be tossed aside as soon as something bigger or better came along. It made him sick to his stomach and nauseous and he felt the urge to throw up. No matter how terrible his treatment was, his life with this man was all he knew and his short life revolved around the day to day survival in the lifestyle of the one that owned him.

One thing he was grateful for however was that he wasn't searched as thoroughly as the 'merchants' would have wished. Being a hedgehog, he possessed sharp quills, and his were abnormally spiky. So, he'd been able to stash the one thing he kept closer to his heart than anything.

The tattered leather-bound journal he'd once managed to steal from a pile of 'useless junk' in the man's study. Inside was a durable pen, a stubby wooden pencil, a nubby eraser, and a collection of poetry and prose that he'd written when no one was watching. They were mostly haikus and other forms of short poetry, but he'd started and occasionally finished several different short stories and drabbles. They helped him to escape the world that was around him, the misery that so often tried to claim his soul.

He took in a shuddering breath through the nose, starting to feel light-headed from the lack of air flow. The rumble of people finally seemed to take its toll on the poor soul for the sounds started to muffle out as though cotton had been pressed into his ears. And with a startled and angered yell from the man beside him, he passed out into the blissful and alluring quiet, black void of unconsciousness. The world faded out into the abyss of his mind and he couldn't help but feel relieved.

On the other side of the room, an ebony male happened to glance in the direction of the blue one and the male, and seeing the poor shape, of the other, his crimson eyes narrowed. Seems that being here wouldn't be a complete waster after all…