The alarm bells rang long after the townsfolk had fled, echoing like a death knell through the narrow streets.
Miyu stood alone in the square, her breaths ragged, her jacket torn open to reveal the truth of her form. The tendrils writhed hungrily, their jaws snapping at the air, their whispers now a chorus of laughter and hunger.
Her hands shook as she pressed them over her ears.
"Shut up… please, shut up…"
But the voices only grew louder.
> They hate you.
They will come back with torches.
So take them first. Eat them first.
She staggered backwards, tears streaking her pale face. But she wasn't fast enough. A group of men returned, armed with pitchforks, axes, and rusted swords—farmers, guards, and the brave fools who thought they could kill a monster.
"There it is!" one of them roared. "The witch spawn! Cut it down!"
Miyu raised her hands. "N-No, please—I don't want to hurt anyone!"
But the hunger inside her body had already tasted their fear.
A tendril lashed out.
The sound was wet. A spray of blood painted the stones. One man collapsed, his torso split open from rib to belly, entrails spilling like slippery ropes onto the cobblestone. The mouths on her tendrils shrieked with joy, biting into his flesh, tearing chunks away, chewing greedily.
Miyu screamed—not in triumph, but in horror. She tried to pull back, tried to stop them, but her own body refused to obey.
Another tendril impaled a man through the throat, lifting him like a ragdoll before splitting his head in two. Brains and bone fragments scattered as the body fell limply to the ground.
The crowd panicked. Some fled, others charged in desperation, but none could stand against the writhing black mass. Each strike left blood pooling, limbs torn, and screams echoing. The cobblestones ran slick with crimson.
Miyu fell to her knees, clutching her head, tears streaming down her face.
"I didn't… I didn't want this…" she whispered.
The whispers in her mind grew louder, sharper.
> You are death, Miyu.
This is what you were made for.
They will never see you as anything else.
Her stomach churned. The stench of blood filled her lungs. Around her lay corpses—men whose eyes were frozen in terror, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. She wanted to vomit, to run, to claw herself apart just to stop being this thing.
But then… she saw them.
A little girl and her mother, hiding behind an overturned cart. The mother's hand was clamped over the child's mouth, tears streaking both their faces.
For one fragile moment, Miyu thought—maybe she could save them. Maybe she could prove she wasn't a monster.
But one of her tendrils smelled the fear and struck before she could react.
The child's scream was cut short as serrated teeth closed around her tiny body.
The mother's wails split the night. She threw herself onto her daughter, trying to pull her free, only to be dragged into the mass of writhing limbs. Flesh ripped. Bones snapped. The air was filled with the sound of chewing.
Miyu's vision blurred with tears. She clawed at her own skin, ripping at her face as if she could tear the extra eyes from her head.
"STOP IT! STOP! PLEASE!" she shrieked.
But the massacre continued until silence fell, broken only by the dripping of blood from her monstrous appendages.
When it was over, the square was a graveyard.
Bodies scattered. Limbs torn. Eyes staring blankly into nothing.
Miyu stood in the center of it all, trembling, her own hands drenched in blood she had never wanted to spill. Her sobs echoed through the empty night.
The whispers were silent now, satisfied.
And in the silence, Miyu felt something inside her break.
She realized there was no way back. Not to the lab. Not to humanity. Not to innocence.
She was alone. A monster. A failed experiment destined only to spread tragedy wherever she went.
The hunger would always win. The voices would always laugh.
And she… she could never escape herself.