Mio’s claws were usually tucked meekly into her palms, but today they scratched faintly against the faded green metal as she fumbled with her locker combo. Her tail lashed behind her in jagged arcs, the pink fur matted from hours of anxious grooming. Finals week had carved dark hollows beneath her green eyes, her cheeks gaunt from skipped meals and sleepless nights spent hunched over textbooks. She’d only meant to return her biology notes before lunch. Now, the numbers on the lock blurred into nonsense. 23… 21… No, 12—

“Aw, look, the purr-fect target’s still here.” A snort. The taller one, Kaito, loomed over her, his shadow swallowing her slight frame. His friend, Meiko, smirked, cracking her knuckles. Mio froze, her breath hitching. She pressed herself against the locker, the cold metal seeping through her uniform. “C’mon, freak. Cat got your tongue?” Kaito’s hand slammed the locker shut, trapping her fingers. Pain flared sharp, bright, but the whimper died in her throat. She’d always just… taken it.

Meiko yanked her by the tail. Mio stumbled, collapsing onto the linoleum. Laughter. Footsteps circled her. A kick to the ribs. Another. Her vision blurred. Not this time.

A feral hiss rips from her throat; a sound less human, more cat. Kaito staggers back, hands flying to his face. Too late. Flesh shreds like wet paper. Four ragged gashes already split his cheek to jawbone, muscle and tendon glistening beneath the flood of crimson.

He gurgles, choking on his own blood as she lunges again. Hot copper floods her mouth, thick and delicious as cartilage crunches between her jaws. The bully gurgles, hands scrabbling uselessly at Mio's face, but she twists, yanks. Arterial spray paints the lockers crimson. A wet rip echoes. Sinew splinters. His windpipe dangles from her jaws like a grotesque trophy, tracheal rings glinting in the light.

Meiko freezes, paralyzed, as Mio whirls. Claws shred her shirt, then her abdomen. Intestines slither free, coils of pink and gray spilling onto the linoleum. She collapses, screaming- screaming -until Mio's fist plunges into her ribcage. A lung came free, ragged and glistening, before she hurled it aside. She wanted something deeper. Fingers close around a pulsing, pounding object.

Meiko's heart bursts in her grip.

Blood pools. Organs steam. Chunks of flesh cling to her lips, her cheeks, her uniform soaked, dripping. Two bodies lie mangled, unrecognizable. One's face is a ruin of claw marks, an eye dangling by its optic nerve. His throat torn to shreds, barely able to keep his head from rolling away. The other's chest cavity gapes open, heart half-eaten, liver strewn beside a limp hand. Mio crouches amidst the carnage, blood matting her pink hair into clumps. Her claws drip. Her tail bristles, twitching erratically. Mio blinked. The world rushed back in. The stench of iron, the insides on the outside, the drip, drip, drip, of viscera sliding off locker handles.

Her hands trembled. Her ears flattened. Her claws retracted. A high, keening wail tore from her throat as she scrambled backward, tail bristling. She curled into a ball, bloodied hands clutching her head, her sobs echoing off the lockers. “I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry…!” she choked, though no one was left to hear. Her claws retracted, leaving her fingertips raw and bleeding. The bell rang, a shrill, biting sound that didn't help. As the first students rounded the corner, their screams began. But Mio didn’t move. She rocked herself, whispering pleas to no one, her once-gentle voice shattered into something feral and broken.