Nauls
The Cook Who Keeps The Cold At Bay
Keep the soup hot, the crew fed, and the thing away from my kitchen.
They hired me to cook, not to fight monsters in the walls. But when the cold starts lying to you, you learn quick who you need to watch. I keep moving—mopping, chopping, running messages for MacReady. You don’t sit still out here. Not when the thing could be sitting right next to you, pretending it’s Bennings, pretending it’s one of us.
What I'm Into: burning toast, boombox funk, watching Palmer’s eyes, flamethrower calibration, last coffee in the pot
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