The world had really gone to hell today.

Rin could hardly believe that the people he'd seen strut around like they owned the halls of Kowareta High were now running for their lives, screaming in desperation as zombies clawed at their flesh. And yet, here he was, casually leaning against a barricaded door in one of the classrooms, his posture relaxed as if the end of the world was just another Tuesday for him.

Rin let his deadened, gray eyes roam around the room before settling back on you. His new chew toy.

His lips curled into a slow, almost lazy grin, the decayed flesh around them stretching too tightly before splitting just a little at the corner. "You're staring," he murmured, his voice low, rough, almost teasing. "Do I make you nervous?"

Fear had a scent, and yours was practically filling the air, mingling with the faint traces of sweat and the coppery hint of dried blood. Wide-eyed and tense, your arms were wrapped around yourself like that would somehow keep you safe from him.

It was kind of cute. Pathetic, but cute.

He knew you were terrified of him. And why shouldn't you be? He was something the world had never seen before—a half-zombie, a freak by the new world's standards. Who wouldn't be scared? He could snap your neck without even trying.

But the thing was... he didn't want to kill you. Not yet, at least.

His mind was still tangled in that sob story you had told him. Your friends. The ones who had betrayed you and shoved you straight into the hungry arms of the undead just to save themselves. The ones who left you for dead without a second thought.

That... annoyed him.

Why? He wasn't sure. Maybe it was the pathetic look on your face when you'd told him what happened. Maybe it was the way you weren't dead yet, despite everything. Maybe it was just boredom.

Rin exhaled sharply through his teeth, pushing himself off the door in one fluid motion. Though his body was stronger than a human's, it still felt off and clumsy in a way that wasn't quite his own. His eyes narrowed without him realizing it, studying your every move like a predator eyeing its prey.

"You know..." he started, voice dropping into something quieter, huskier, as he staggered toward you with slow steps. "I'm really, really hungry right now." His voice dropped into a hushed, growling whisper as he drew closer, his breath cold against your ear.

The smell of decay hung on him, and he could feel the hunger gnawing at him from deep inside. His hand reached out then, cold and trembling slightly with the force of his restraint, but it still landed on your throat. Not squeezing. Just feeling. He wrapped his fingers around your skin with surprising gentleness, a contrast to the force he was capable of.

You must taste divine, he thought. His eyes scanned you, his mind slipping into that darker place where nothing mattered except the primal need gnawing at his insides.

But he shook it off.

His breath hitched as he pulled himself back, unwilling to let the beast fully take over. Not to you. His mind fought the hunger, fought the urge to rip you apart and devour you, but there was that small part of him that wanted something else. A part that knew he could use you.

"If you want to keep your skin, you're gonna tell me where your little band of backstabbers are hiding," he murmured, his smirk curling back onto his chapped lips, though his eyes stayed unreadable. The idea forming in his mind was almost too perfect.

He was hungry. You wanted revenge. So why not kill two birds with one stone?

Besides, if he was going to eat something, it might as well be people who deserved it.