Possession

Chapter One

Lunar's POV

"I'm not going to play games and ask you the usual job questions, Mr. Lunar. Our business is much different, I hope you don't expect a simple interview. If you do, you may pack your shit and leave," Mr. Hayes stepped around his desk and sat on it, folding his arms as he stared down at me. Staying seated encouraged him, "You will be expected to answer with words or actions, and don't think we won't know when you lie. Why are you here? How did you hear about us? What drew you to work with us?"

"M-My mother applied for me," I stammered with a croak, "I-I wasn't aware of this place until Mathis and I entered. M-Ma doesn't do research when she applies for jobs, nor does she allow me to look for myself. She thinks I deserve better than the jobs we have near the house. I-I-I thought she was applying me for some boring desk in the city or something along tho---"

"Enough. You will be expected to alphabetize, clean, deliver, polish, and so on. Do you have an issue with that? Do you have an issue with carrying and lifting heavy objects, organizing files, and counting items? What about cleaning fluids such as blood, diarrhea, or vomit?" I flinched at the last part, still listening, "Can you handle the evidence of abuse or trauma? We do not slack upon such things in this business, nor will we tolerate hesitancy. You will get one warning and that is this, you get one chance in this business. You fuck up, you are gone. Speak."

"I-I'm not the best at lifting heavy things, but I'm certain to try my best. I just hope it won't be wrong if I may need assistance. Any form of organizing you will have no doubts about, I love doing it. I-I-I don't think bodily fluids would be best for me to clean. Just the thought makes me queasy, and I'm sure I'd end up making more of a mess. I-If that deters you from my possible hiring I'm not upset, you need somebody who can do the job and that's valid. Evidence of abuse or trauma is common in my life, so I don't think it'll prevent me from working. However, it does entirely depend on the situation as I may have my personal experiences or history."

"Are you under any physical or mental distress?" I raised a brow, confused by the question, "Pardon my wording. Do you have any disabilities or struggles that affect your day-to-day life?"

"'Struggles' is an understatement," That question ran me over like a train, my leg bouncing and my thumbnail digging into my opposite hand, and my jaw tightened, "I'd rather not discuss it if that is alright with you."

"No shame in that, we will not ever force you to talk. All we ask for is honesty and trust," Mr. Hayes stood and strolled over to Mr. Lincoln, "But we do have more questions and you do have to answer them."

"I can do that," I nodded as I watched Mr. Lincoln sit on the desk this time, looking him in the eye, "Whatever you need to do or ask I will not stray away. You need my cooperation and I'm willing to give it. In return, I only want honesty and delicacy. I'm not a robot. I'm a person. I will treat you with respect if you give it in return."

Something flashed in Mr. Lincoln's eyes at my words. I don't know what it was, but it made the room lighter and his expression softened into something I couldn't recognize. He snapped his fingers and something in me obeyed and I stood. His hand rested under my chin, forcing it up while he used the opposite hand to look along my throat. His nails trailed along my shoulders and checked my arms before he knelt and massaged my thighs and legs.

I tried not to hitch my breath, but he seemed to notice as he cooed, "Relax, it's my job to check your veins and body mass. We have some tasks we have to confirm you can do."

"If I may comment," I tried to not laugh, his simple nod allowing me to finish, "You're doing this makes it seem like you're testing my body for meat processing or worse."