#pr!mpt

nibbling on the tip of her thumb, the woman listens, cold sweat enveloping her lower back, as the people who entered before her die off one by one.  perhaps them entering hadn’t been so inconvenient at all—it had bought her time.  squatting on the toilet seat, the brunette’s dark orbs travel the ceiling, the walls—an answer, she needed to find and answer—if she didn’t find one, she’d die.

seconds of deliberation pass before the brunette identifies her two options: leaping through the window or fighting head on.

ridiculous.  absolutely ridiculous.

why was this happening to her anyway?

had her parents known that this school had been was this sort of place?  was sending here a way of disposing of her, or testing her?  surely, anyone who could survive a school like this was worthy of their approval, right?  surely, anyone who could dominate in a place like this, was worthy of being crowned the chois’ champion—

—the thought makes it obvious what she should do.

fists curl and the girl shifts her position—force, her word was force, suitably so, for she was a force to be reckoned with.  and she’d show that—not only to the beast outside her door, but to anyone who look at her, anyone who dared to even pass her, so that they’d be so stunned by her brilliance, they’d never be able to look away.

they’d see her.

“showtime,” she mumbles to herself, leaning forward to unlock the stall.  terrified, no, that was a bad way to put it, a dehabilitating way to put it—nervous, the girl is nervous but it doesn’t stop her from leaping forward with an inhuman amount of strength.  the room shakes and she hears the sound of glass breaking, and so she grins, fierce and savage—

you’ve done bigger venues than this choi jinri.  you won’t fuck up in front of a lizard and a person and a half, will you?

—before twisting midair, body following the graceful movements of t’ai chi ch’uan with none of their atypical gentleness.  her mother said learning the art would allow her pear flower of a daughter to achieve the elegance she needed to survive, a statement she remembers mid-motion—

mother, this, this is your blossom child!

 —and is made to forget the moment she lands a hit on the monster, a strong palm landing on its forehead.  what happens next surprises her—all she had expected a dent of bone, not a hole; the girl’s arm slips into where a part of the monster’s brain, bone and flesh had been.  the creature releases a reptilian shriek and begins to thrash; in turn, the woman attempts to remove herself from the beast, realising in seconds that continuing to do so would sooner result in her being thrown against the wall.

so the girl clings for her life, fingers extending to reach deeper within the creature, nails digging into wet, warm flesh and abrasive, sharp bone.    serpentine eyes, wide and angry, meet with her own—momentarily, she’s reminded of her father and so she freezes—before its jaws snap around her free left arm.  the girl screams, fearful and livid, before twisting her hand in its mouth—it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—and willing whatever happened before to happen again.

carmine stains everything about her and the creature shrieks oncemore, only to quieten seconds later before finally dropping to the ground, taking jinri down with it.

yanking her arm out of its jaws with a grunt, the girl rolls away from the carcass, only to come face to face with what had once been the face of a classmate.  wrapping herself in her own embrace, the girl studies the mangled human cadaver, before letting out a laugh.  arms squeeze, tears well but laughter continues to bubble; even as she stands up, makes her way to the sink, and begins to clean her bloodied entirety, her mirth is evident in a small, noticeably tamer smile.

this damned world is a fool if it thinks it’ll get rid of me that easily.

it’s after a few minutes of patching and cleaning herself up—bandages courtesy of her former classmates’ blouses—that the girl seats herself on the washroom counter.  making at her reflection, she murmurs,