Chapter 4

Same morning or afternoon for none other than Amora Ember. She was the girl who worked part-timer in her city. She wasn't low on money and had a way to just sit back and relax in her comfortable couch she had earned but spending it the days just watching Netflix and chilling.

She wasn't the laid back person.

Anyone would trade their places with her but she just felt bored with that idea of spending her quality time.

She didn't want to learn about herself. She was afraid. She knew most of the time what she was thinking and what she felt. She even knew what was right or wrong when she was given a decision to make.

But in a world she lives in now, she wanted to distract from all the wrong decisions she had made it so far.

"You're late." Pae, her boss of the Slaughterhouse grunted.

"Sorry. I really am." 

"What's your excuse this time, Amora?" She raised her brow. She was a black woman with a curvaceous figure and a pale yellow bandana wrapped around her hair.

Amora looked up to her a lot because she never cared about other's opinions or sayings which Amora was trying to rub all of her peculiarities on herself.

"I couldn't differentiate between Morning and Afternoon." Amora grinned awkwardly, mentally facepalming for such a poor excuse.

But if it weren't for her presence in the shed then it would've been boring to death for Pae.

"Right. And I can't make out a difference between night and evening. Now chop off. 5 more orders are left." Pae said, scooting her off at the back of the shed where the slaughtering department lies.

"The Gayoles want their lamb to be cleaned from top to bottom and cancel out the intestines," Pae notified as she walked in front of Amora.

Amora listened to her, wearing her apron which was covered in dried blood that smelt nauseating but the whole place was flesh suffered.

"So what should I do with the intestines?" Amora asked as she checked the knives and their sharpness.

"Feed them to the crows." Pae shrugged, walking over to the door. "Or maybe feed them to the useless Hunters. They keep coming in for some leftovers recently."

Amora nodded, lifting the knife and pulling the lamb to the slaughter room as she towed it with the rope tied around its neck.

"I don't understand why the Gayoles hate intestines. It's pretty healthy, don't you think?..." Amora stared at the lamb who munched slowly having nothing to concede. "Cool! I'm talking with the animal who I'm going to kill. This is weird. Alright time to pep talk to you."

The lamb countered with its way of conversation.

"Aha. Okay, buddy. No, calling buddy would make me cry. Um... so!" Amora clasped her hands, looking at it with bright eyes. "It's gonna hurt. Pain to death but I hope you don't hate me for this. Surely some vegetarians won't want you to die but I can't do anything for the ones who want to feast on you. But look on the bright side-"

"Amor, stop giving a prep talk to an animal that cares less about it," Pae shouted.

Amora lowered her voice, whispering to the lamb who was pointlessly listening to her pep talk.

"Continuing to where I left, the bright side is that you've wanted, needed and someone to fill their tums. So you're fabulous and delicious. If you're cooked well, you are loved. If burned, you're still loved since the crows won't stop annoying with their kawings."

"Amor! If I hear you talking to it again, you will be the next one getting slaughtered." Pae shouted again, having a clearer hearing of whatever Amora was sputtering.

"It's just a heart to heart talk!" Amora yelled back.

"It would be a heart to heart talk if the lamb even understands you! Plus who would wanna hear why they're needed to be dead. No one." 

Amora groaned. "Alright. Geez! Pep talk is over." 

She yanked his horn and carried him to the flat broad log where she will cut off his head. 

"I really wonder why I always do this. But then, I remember I don't want others to treat you badly. Well, badly slaughtering you." Amora muttered, slicing on its neck as it whimpered.

The bad blood trickled out and soon enough Amora hardened her stare and chopped off its head that hurdled down and tossed to the empty barrel.

"Will miss you, bud." Amora wiped the blood off her apron and started working on the order.

The skin was pretty rigid and thick and she couldn't cut through it. So she tried again and nearly bent the blade but this called upon a challenge for her and with full energy and strength she stabbed it with the blood oozing out and getting around.

That's when she noticed August whose face got covered with blood because of her actions but despite that, she felt a pull. A strange pull that connected her eyes with his emerald orbs.

Those were the greens she always dreamt of. Not entirely but they were the color that she loved the most. Red is what she felt hostility toward the most but then it's everywhere.

There was something about green and she wished to see it come to life. Now that the emerald orbs danced around in her gaze, she could see the glint of emotions flourish over it.

Obviously, eyes speak more and she knew those were the sentiments of a person but not of the color. Yet, the touch of everything mixed in and reflected in his eyes was enthralling.

Losing herself in his gaze that lightened with hers, she fell in love with the color more. But it was more than the color she fell in love with.

Perhaps, the person having them. 

Could it be just the favoritism overwhelming her? Whether or not, they weren't just emerald eyes. They seemed more interesting and plucking out a lamb's insides wasn't appealing and astonishing for her anymore.

Strangely she controlled the desire to touch his face which contrasted well with his eyes. Everything about him sparked an interest in her and to make sure he doesn't leave or it gets awkward, she decided to be the one to speak up.

But August was lost in the metallic silver gaze her apertures were expressing his harsh truth. Paled and dull yet an array of hope of something he didn't know of.

All he remembers that he never had the slightest hope but these eyes were changing everything for him.

Amora figured he was presumably deaf or maybe blind because, after her questions of certainty and formality, he hadn't moved except he fell straight on his face.

The least her brain could think of was that he was frozen to appall after she stabbed the poor animal and was the cause of his fainting, possibly dying.

Could it be that? Then she needed to help him. She willingly volunteered and took careful steps towards him, giving him a headstart he didn't know of.

She crouched down and then raised her hand, waited for his approval of easiness, and when she didn't earn any, a hard slap went across his cheek.

"Hello?" She asked as he hadn't respond.

"Is that the boy you killed?" Pae asked, peering over her shoulder.

"I guess."