𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 - TMR, Gally ¹

𝟢𝟢𝟦，𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

CH. FOUR
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

The following week, she needs to try out all the jobs, except for The Runners, to see what's she best at. That job she'll become, no matter if she dislikes it or not.

Starting of with The Slicers. Maybe it's nice to start with what sounds the worst, though building doesn't excite her much either.

After her lovely night in The Slammer, she really started appreciating Gally's presence.

Luckily, he hasn't said or done anything else.

Then Camil volunteered to help her through the week as long as she isn't with a Keeper, so he's now leading the way to The Bloodhouse.

"Good luck. Try not to throw up. Bets might be going on and I want whoever expected you to be tough to win."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Exactly. Good luck!"

"See ya." She turns around to meet Winston. Shakes his hand as they both introduce themselves, even though they already kind of know each other.

The smell is awful and it's hot as hell inside the building, but she gets used to it after a while and watches Winston slaughter a chicken.

"You pluck the feathers off," he orders, giving her a nod of encouragement as he steps back.

She starts doing as she's told. "Random question... were you looking for me in the woods the other day?"

"Yeah," he says. "Alby's order."

"Were you alone?"

"Yup."

Awesome!

"Alright." She lets go of a breath. Soon, the job is finished and Winston instructs how to get the right flesh.

For the following hours, it's killing the animals, plucking feathers or taking their skin off, cutting the right pieces, and then getting those pieces in a basket, which a Slopper will get to the kitchen.

Sloppers are the boys who're not outstandingly good at anything. No job fitted them, so they clean up the toilets, do laundry, the dishes... She feels pretty bad for them, though she wouldn't want to switch places either.

Better make sure she's good at something.

Unfortunately, she's not good at this job, but does find out some boys are overreacting. How are they expecting to get food if they ever happen to be alone in woods or wherever they could get stranded?

With a bloody shirt, arms, and hands, she walks over to the smaller building next to The Homestead. There's a sink and about six showers, all with ice cold water, but it's the least thing they have.

She'll be cooking dinner tonight. Sounds pretty fun, actually.

Washing her hands is a quick job, but the shirt will be another problem. She can't walk around covered in blood all day. Camil must have something in store for her.

"There you go." Once she has found him, he hands her a shirt that's way too big, but she's thankful enough for it.

The kitchen is the only thing that seems a little more professional than the other unstable things. There's electricity, for an oven, microwave, et cetera... a window that's so enormous that if you open it, you can hand all the boys their food from behind the counter. Kind of like a bar.

A sink, hook with aprons, just a few boys walking around, and then The Keeper, who smiles a giant smile at the girl as soon as she enters.

"Hi!" It's a dark-skinned, lively boy. He holds out his hand. "Name's Frypan. I know, weird, but you'll get used to it. Call me Fry."