TW: Death, sickness, blood, minor swearing(it only says 'h*ll' once), su*cide
I stepped out of the car, the winds ruffling my feathers. It was my first day at the job in KFH. I sighed, knowing that I would probably get the most annoying one being the new worker and all. I stepped into the facility to meet my boss.
"Good afternoon, Cluck." Mr. Hen greeted me, waving his wing. He wore a typical suite, but he had an annoying and clearly fake smile to his face, like a businessman trying to persuade me to buy his product. He was otherwise of average height and smelled like the most expensive wine you could think of. I gave him a polite nod. I should've just gotten the job at the bookstore. I thought.
The air wreaked as I walked forward. It smelled like dung mixed with strong detergent. I felt my beak sting in pain. Still, I maintained my politeness. "What job am I assigned to, sir?" Mr. Hen gave no hesitation answering, his cheery eyes being so wide that he looked like a zombie. Yet behind the glamour and show of enthusiasm, his deep set eyes watched everything, like a predator. "Human maintenance and consumption." I nodded, gulping. Great. First day, and I'm given the worst part of the job.
Mr. Hen opened the door where the humans were kept. When he did, I felt a sensory overload.
There was thousands of humans in a long corridor. Each were holding the wires, making the weird human sound that was called "yelling". They all got louder as the door opened. I felt like my ears were going to burst. In front of them was fresh human food, which contained a weird cylinder shaped carb called "bread". It was the only thing they could eat. I remembered from my research that it was injected with steroids and hormones to make them grow as fast as possible. They all stood in front of the bread, chomping it away. They didn't even have enough room to turn around. Each body looked misshapen. Arms and legs were incredibly thick, and many looked as though one limb had grown to be bigger than the other. The younger ones, called "children" weren't eating the way they should've been. Instead, they had higher-pitched yelling, their talons clinging onto the wire that held them in. I heard the loudest yelling coming from the far side of the room, where mothers were being quickly separated from their newborns. I looked away, and slowly walked back. They're yelling for their parents. I realized. I couldn't imagine having to live without my parents for my whole life. "What's wrong, Cluck?" Mr. Hen's voice stabilized my senses.
"N-nothing, sir." I responded. I had a job to do. I was hired. So why was I freaking out so badly? I opened my eyes and looked at the long, ever expansive hall of pain again. We walked forward, and I observed the looks of hatred the humans gave. I was told that they were specifically hard to breed and to produce on a mass scale, especially due to their intelligence. Yet, they were so abundant that it was almost inevitable that they would be made into food.
Near the end of the corridor, they kept sick and dying humans. Many of them barely moved, sitting on the feces-covered floor and accepting that their lives had ended. I saw many that were already dead, and many with blood covering huge portions of their bodies. I heard several cough and wheeze. They weren't given food. If their illness didn't get to them, they would ultimately die of starvation anyway.
I saw one that had others crowding around it. It's deep brown eyes were wide for a moment, it's arms weakly trying to hold something that wasn't in front of it. It's eyes looked into mine, before it's arm fell again and it's body went limp. The other humans let it settle onto the floor, sobbing with grief. It took me several moments to realize that I had just seen a human die.
We made a right at the end of the corridor after walking for what felt like forever. There, we saw the female humans have their newborns taken away and put into large bins. I cringed, realizing that they were probably just born, their skin feeling the cool air for the first time and the touch of their mother.
The worker looked at me, his eyes showing how whatever joy he had was sucked out a long time ago. The females and males were separated in conveyer belts. One side would go to make more children, the other would go to be a future meal.
Finally, we went to the waters.
"Do I work here?" I asked, gulping in fear. Mr. Hen nodded. How could he remain so positive and enthusiastic in this hellhole? "This'll be what you work on for the next three months, as signed for in the contract." He looked at me, his eyes giving me positive stabs. I gave a hasty nod. I really was given the worst job.
The crates of adult humans were stacked up high next to the waters. The old person with the job had left only 3 hours ago. My job was to take the crates and put them into the water. It was an instant death by electrocution. Then, I would push them to the next worker, who would take them and put their bodies onto the conveyer belt, so that their hair could be taken off and they could be ready for consumption.
"This might be a hard job for you to grasp." I looked at Mr. Hen, my eyes wide. "Here, I'll demonstrate." He lifted a crate of humans. I watched as he slowly put the crate in the water. The second the water touched the humans, they screeched, before their limp bodies floated in the water. He pushed the crate to the worker at the end of the pool, who had been patiently waiting after he'd finished the job. The worker put the bodies onto the conveyer belt. He then stared at me, his eyes expressing his impatience. It didn't matter to him what he did, as long as it was a job.
"Now, it's your turn. Just make sure you don't touch the water." I gave an absentminded nod. Meanwhile, my brain was on fire. My whole life, I'd always loved going to KFH. I'd love eating all sorts of human parts, from legs to chest. I had chosen this job for a reason, after all. But my worst fears were true. The humans were treated like objects before being transported to their deaths. And I would be the murderer.
My mind spun. My wings clenched, refusing to take the crate. I didn't want this. I never wanted this. I never want to see this again.
I felt my legs move forward. I heard Mr. Hen clucking madly as I took my step into the water, telling me to stop. I felt a swift shock, but the pain relieved quickly.
But it worked. I never got to see the horrors again.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
