I do not own, or am in no way associated with Hot Pockets(r) brandsandwiches.
I'm thinking of making this a series.
Fujin's stomach gurgled and twisted inside her, pangs of hunger emanating through her faint frame. Her eyes flickered open, glowing pink in the dim light of the adjacent alarm clock. She grumbled under her breath at the time and squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over and curling beneath the covers.
Fujin wrapped herself against her knees, attempting to quell her snarling stomach. She yanked the sheets over her head. Sleep was an elusive memory at this point.
"DESIST!" roared the young albino. She clutched her stomach and rolled on her back. If it wasn't going to go away on its own, she was going to will it away. She settled back into the pillows and fixed her gaze vehemently on the ceiling.
"RAGE!" Fujin shrieked, bolting upright and tossing the sheets away. She jammed her delicate feet into a pair of voluptuous moogle slippers and shuffled angrily out of her room. She slipped out the door and made her way down the hall, her shadow tall and eerie against the opposite wall.
The airlift ride was quick, but as she stepped out she was greeted with the burly form of a security officer. His face was fat, and his hair was greasy and plastered to his skull beneath his flattened hat.
"What are you doing?" he bellowed, "Do you have any idea what time it is young lady?"
Fujin's eyes narrowed in a defiant glare, but she fought back the urge to sock him and continued towards the cafeteria at a speedy pace.
"Young lady!" he shouted, grabbing her upper arm and yanking her backwards.
"RAGE!" she spun quickly and pried herself away, her foot lashing out an impressive angle and connecting with his crotch.
"HUNGER!" she screeched hoarsely, returning on her course to the cafeteria.
She reached her destination a few moments later, throwing her small body against the door to bust the lock. It was barren, moon light peeking through the windows. She shuffled quickly to the kitchen, opening the freezer.
She puffed her cheeks out in thought, before finally choosing a chicken filled hot pocket. She plopped the entire thing unceremoniously in the microwave, jabbing in seven minutes and resting back against the counter.
She tapped her feet, and then her fingers, and then she wiggled to an invisible rhythm in her head. She bounced on her heels and poked at assorted pots and pans. She blinked ten times on each eye and whistled a brief tune.
This was taking too long.
"IMPATIENCE!" she bellowed.
She squatted in front of the microwave, her face barely an inch from the microwave door. Her eyes followed it as it rotated round and round, the wrapper swelling to dangerous proportions before her. She could hear a sharp whistling noise, faint at first but steadily growing louder and louder, to the point where she could almost feel her skull splitting at the seams.
Suddenly everything exploded with a deafening burst. The microwave door swung forward at an imperceptible speed, colliding with Fujin's right eye. She yelped and stumbled back, clutching at the shards of plastic and glass lodged deep in her cornea.
"PAIN!" she rolled around, kicking and flailing in agony.
Seifer kicked his feet up on the edge of Fujin's bed, cradling the back of his head in his arms.
"So, it was a T-Rexaur, right?" he grinned at her.
"AFFIRMATIVE." she narrowed her eye icily at him, her fists curling around her blankets.