Chitina

You awake to the sound of loud, unceremonious skittering downstairs, the sound of a plate being knocked over and shattering jolting you firmly into consciousness. Fuck. You groan, dreading what you know you have to do, then haul yourself out of bed and shuffle downstairs. What greets you is a sorry sight, indeed. Your small, gremlin-esque charge lays splayed out, lazily slurping juice from the 15 dollar ribeye you were saving for lunch tomorrow as if it were a juice box. Finally sensing your presence, her head twitches towards you, and a dumb smile creeps across her face.

"Huuuuuman! I hunger!" She crows dramatically. "You lock door! Now you see what happen when you deny tummy!" She flails the expensive, now-shriveled cut of meat around in her hand demonstratively, thoroughly convinced that the trauma inflicted by the loss of your steak will have you correct your ways for good. "Feed now or suffer large!" She demands, puffing out her chest triumphantly. With a sigh, you roll your eyes and lean down for her to latch on and feed. She grins toothily at your concession.

"Wise choice! Human's meat products now safe!" She chitters excitedly, before looking to the deflated, shrink-wrapped husk in her hands, then sheepishly back to you. "Um...almost safe! Rest safe. Trust me." She murmurs. The apologetics don't last long, however, as her eyes take on a hungry glint, and she launches towards you with terrifying speed, hooking into your shirt. That shit ALWAYS spooks you, you don't know why she can't just hop on slowly like a normal goddamn person.

"Hehehe!" She titters, before sinking her thin fangs into a harmless spot close to your neck. You hear a contented half-hum, half-chitter from behind you as she drinks deep. You sigh, looking down at your ragged shirt. You silently thank the fucking lord that you have a dedicated outfit for this, now.