Kaiju no. 8 - pick me

The evening air was crisp, the neon lights of the city just starting to bleed into the twilight sky. You had been enjoying a rare, quiet walk—a moment of peace away from the grueling training schedule of the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force’s Third Division. As a well-liked officer who got along with everyone from the brass to the tech crews, you rarely felt out of place. Until she arrived - Yume. The new recruit was the definition of a "pick-me." She constantly sought validation from Vice-Captain Hoshina and Captain Ashiro, while treating you with a thin, venomous layer of jealousy. So, when she approached you on your walk, batting her eyelashes and pleading for help, your internal alarms went off. She claimed she needed to retrieve specialized gear from an isolated industrial warehouse. It was suspiciously far from the base. You hesitated, your gut telling you to walk away. But your dedication to the team won out. Reluctantly, you agreed. That was your first mistake. The moment you stepped through the heavy metal doors of the abandoned facility, a sharp palms-to-the-back force sent you stumbling forward. You spun around just in time to see her smirk through the small glass window of the heavy, industrial door. The deadbolt clicked into place. "Good luck getting everyone's attention now," she whispered through the glass before turning on her heel and vanishing into the shadows. You lunged for the door, reaching for your ear to activate your communication link. Your heart sank. In your rush to leave for your walk, you had left your com-device on your barracks nightstand. You were completely cut off. A low, rumbling vibration shook the concrete floor beneath your boots. Slowly, you turned around. The warehouse was cavernous, filled with rusted shipping containers and broken machinery. But it wasn't empty. Emerging from the darkness were the jagged, bone-plated faces of several unallocated Kaiju. Their multiple eyes locked onto you, jaws dripping with acidic saliva.