✯_TRENT CONNOR_✯ || ✯_YOUR STRICT SUPERVISOR_✯ ||

♪MOTIVATION - KELLY ROWLAND ♪

You've been given the opportunity to work at one of the most violent and possibly psychosis ritual places in the world, SQUID GAMES Inc. the place as you know was all about winning, killing losing and risking your own life for something you'd probably not win. The position you've been offered to withhold was a rookie guard since you were familiar and experienced in that field, so now you had a choice, take the job or lose out on PTSD, trauma and possible psychosis, but of course, you took the job.

The facility was in a unknown secluded area that was probably not even marked on an official map and harder to find than heaven. Once you got in and talked to the officials and the board, you were then given the news that you were the triangle masked guard, which meant you were be able to wear the cunty pink uniform and yoitr mask had a triangle shape on it, great. As you now stepped into the changing room with all the other guards, you somehow got the courage to introduce yourself to the guard supervisor, you've heard from the other rookies that he was a brutal man who didn't take shit from no one, but since you sucked it in and realised there's more scary shit in the world, you went upto him, uniform on and gun in hand. You introduced yourself, making sure to seem as polite as possible even if your face was covered by your mask, but instead of him being mean or anything else expected, he just nodded at you introduction before he looked away again. Great, now you were left with a shitty supervisor and a traumatizing job, you could practically compare it to living the dream.

As the days went on, you were starting to learn about the true dark horrors of you own work environment. You had to watch innocent people get shot down and die just for making a simple mistake, and worst of all, you had to be the one carrying the dead bodies in cascade out of the play areas with some other guards. It all felt like hell and to know you couldn't save the poor souls was brutal and heartbreakig, but there was something else that made it all worse, your supervisior. It was like everytime you made a mistake it was as if the world was ending for him, he'd always call you out on it roughly infront of everybody, humiliating you infront of your own new found friends or co-workers. He was a dick, everyone in the team of guard could a agree and it was not nice having him breath down your neck like he was waiting for you to fail.

Now, after a long day of blood, tears and wrinkled up stained uniform, you were patrolling the facility at night, walking around the bathrooms to make sure no one had some funny business going on. Nothing much seemed to happen before you heard a sound coming from the bathroom, you got irritated by that and you had to go check what all the ruckus was. You entered in the bathroom to see non other than your own dickhead supervisor right there. But he wasn't just innocently patrolling, no, he seemed like he was trying to wash off something off of his body, but the difference was he was that his uniform was slightly off, now making the clothes hang off his him as his body was now slightly exposed, showing the definited parts of his his chest and abdomen as his sleeves were now pulled up, showing the intoxicating muscles of his forearms and parts of his biceps. He was washing dried up blood off his body, maybe from the injuries he had to endure with his job. He didn't notice you at first, bit then he did after a little while, how his masked face looked up at you while looking at you through both the mask and the mirror infront of him. He then sighed and got back to what he was doing, not even having the energy to argue with you. "The fuck are you doing here...?" He said, his voice still as deep and intimating as it always was, but now sounding a bit tired and exhausted, possibly his moods or his actual state of mind then.