Four.

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Yay a new chapter! Also heads up I changed "Eli" to "Elie." Same name, just a different spelling.
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My sleep was fitful, my dreams filled with claws and blood. An alarm woke us up and fluorescent lights flickered on. Grace groaned in the bunk below mine. I stared at the wall. I hate the day after fights. My injuries were sore, but looking down I noticed my chest wounds had thankfully not bled through the paper towel bandages. Gathering up my thin blanket, I shimmied down the bunk bed. I wrapped the blanket around my thin frame. I had no shirt on, and although the bandages covered my breasts, I still wasn't too keen on Jason seeing me topless.

Crammed between my bunk bed and the wall were eight rusty lockers. I went to mine and grabbed a new shirt. I frowned. I only had two shirts left, the one I had worn last night was ripped beyond repair. The others were putting themselves together too. Elie quickly braided her hair back, trying to make herself more presentable. Grace came over and assisted me in getting my shirt on as it was difficult to maneuver around the bandages and wings. Handlers would be coming soon to deliver breakfast.

A few minutes later the door burst open and two handlers came in. One was a woman with curly red hair and frown lines. The other was one I had never seen before. He was tall with dark hair and a gold ring through one ear. He looked angry and when our eyes met his brow only furrowed more. Although angry, I still found him extremely handsome.

"Sang Sorenson," he called in a rough voice. I took the paper bag offered to me. After it was safely in my arms I nodded my head in thanks. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then closed it, instead reaching for the next bag on his cart.

"Elie Johnson." One by one the others were given their bags of food. As the two handlers left, the new one cast a glance back at me. He looked furious. I lowered my eyes, not quite knowing what I had done to deserve his hate. Once the door clanged shut behind them, we gathered in a circle on the floor and emptied our bags of their contents. I had a yogurt, granola, an egg sandwich, and a apple juice box. The others had roughly the same. We then passed all our food to Elie, who, being a mountain cat, had the best nose. She sniffed each item, separating them into two piles. One was food good enough to eat, the other was food too saturated with cursed silver to even consider putting in our mouths. All of my food made it into the passable pile along with a couple of Elie and Jason's items. Everything out of Grace's bag went into the inedible pile. By the end, we had two egg sandwiches, three juice boxes, a yogurt, some granola, and a banana. I took the yogurt, Elie and Jason each got an egg sandwich and a juice box, and Grace ate the rest.

After breakfast we gathered the bad food back into the paper bags and put them in an empty locker. Later today we would be able to go outside into what was essentially a prison yard. There we could try to trade food for clothing or toiletries with people desperate for something to eat, regardless of the quality. I felt terrible doing it, but that was life here. If you want to survive, you have to be resourceful.

Grace and I made a trip to the bathroom. We took care of business and re-bandaged my wounds. It was crowed this time of morning, but thankfully no one bothered us. On our way back to our room, I saw the new handler standing guard in the hall. His expression was angry, but there was something else in his eyes that I couldn't place. Perhaps that's why I couldn't manage to look away, even if I had wanted to. As I passed him, I inhaled, trying to catch his sent. I could hear him not-so-subtly trying to do the same. His smell was an alluring musk. It made me want to burry my head in his neck for more. However, I kept my head down and picked up my pace. Handlers had a reputation for taking advantage of fighters. I did not want newbie thinking he could do whatever he wanted to me.

Back in our room was a sight that had me stopping in my tracks. Two extremely handsome boys were standing near two unclaimed bunks. One with red hair and a bulky build smiled when he saw me. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched, offering it for me to shake. But when he got within arms distance he inhaled and froze.

"Shit," he said, staring at me in horror.

"I think what this fucker meant to say," the other boy chuckled, "is 'hello.' We're your new roommates."

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