Packing the Merchandise

Two days after the auction closed, Elias worked calmly in the main processing bay as he finished packing the last of the crates containing a frozen person. Forty-seven crates stood in neat rows near the loading dock, ready for anonymous pickup over the coming nights.

“Safe travels,” he said quietly to the crates. “May your new owners appreciate you.” With the sold inventory prepared, Elias turned his attention to the four unsold students and one teacher still standing naked in the main bay.

He decided they would no longer remain out here. He did after all, need to make room for the next harvest eventually.

One by one, he wheeled them on the dolly into his private living quarters. He took his time posing his new decorations.

Hannah and Noah were placed together near the bookshelves as a sibling sculpture.

Hannah stood protectively in front, one arm slightly extended. Noah stood just behind her, hand resting on her shoulder — the same pose Elias had used for their auction photos.

Laura and Chloe were positioned facing each other near the large window, creating a hot mother-daughter tableau. Laura stood authoritative, while Chloe was posed with her head tilted up as if in defiance. It was certainly turning into a favorite for Elias.

Abigail Torres was turned into human furniture — carefully posed kneeling beside Elias’s leather armchair, back straight, hands holding up a metal tray, serving as a silent side table.

Once everyone was perfectly positioned, Elias stepped back and surveyed his living room. Six frozen teenagers and one teacher now adorned his private space.

He walked slowly through the room, making tiny final adjustments — tilting a head here, arching a back there, spreading a leg slightly for better aesthetics.

“Much better,” he murmured. “You all look far more useful in here than you did collecting dust out there.”

Elias stopped in front of Mara and Sofia, gently stroking their cheeks. “My favorites stay closest to me, of course,” he told them softly. “The rest of you… you will mainly serve as decoration and furniture. But do not worry, I will play with you later… eventually.”

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sank into his leather armchair — the one with Abigail Torres kneeling gracefully beside it. Elias raised his glass toward the silent, beautifully posed figures surrounding him.

“To my growing collection,” he said with quiet satisfaction.

Elias smiled, completely at peace in his private world of eternal, obedient beauty.