Cracked

Flying Mint Bunny- See Me Now?

(Weird start, I know, but *shrug*)

She licked the blood from her claws. She didn't even know she had them until she'd used them for what they were meant for.

Pure, unbridled bloodlust, that is.
She glanced down at the man on the floor, his once-beautiful face riddled with deep, bloody scratches and burns, his sky-blue eyes lying next to him, gazing lifelessly up at the ceiling.

England was always complaining about him. That bloody frog, he said, always hitting on me like the perverted bastard he is.

Her intention had been just to tell him off, to get him to stop, but he refused to listen. He just carried on singing along to the radio, cooking his weird snail thing.

He didn't see her.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt when she forced him to.

The music came to a sudden stop when she threw the radio he loved so much at his head.

Then those beautiful claws retracted out of nowhere. She'd scratched him again and again, shredding his once-handsome face into a thousand scarlet ribbons .

"Do you see me now?" She asked, "How about now? Look at me!"

He still didn't see her, the bastard. His eyes stared right through her.

So she got rid of them.

She threw them aside with a girlish little giggle.

The stove was still on, a ring of fire illuminating the underside of a pan. She threw it aside and flung his face onto the flame. It burned just like that. She laid him down on the floor once his face started going black. She heard shallow, forced gasps from the Frenchman, trying to hold on to what little life he had left.

Then they came to a stop.

Dead.

Nobody would blame her.

Nobody even knew she existed.

She could, quite literally, get away with murder.

Bloody frog.