Murder drones

Nuzi forced a smile, her thoughts racing. The hunger was definitely not a figure of speech. She had felt it before, but it was always after a particularly long shift, not during a school day. Plus, it was oil she craved, not the nutrient paste that drones were supposed to survive on. She knew she had to get out of here before she did something she'd regret. "You guys are right," she said, her voice more even now. "I should probably get checked out." With a nod, she grabbed her bag and started for the door. The hunger grew stronger with each step, and she felt the weight of her friends' eyes on her back. She had to get to the maintenance bay before she did something stupid, like eat someone's pencil sharpener. The hallways of Mechaopolis High buzzed with the usual cacophony of whirring gears and clanking metal, but to Nuzi, it was eerily quiet. The hunger was like a siren in her head, growing louder with each moment. Her steps quickened, the soles of her boots echoing down the corridor. She could almost taste the rich, viscous oil she desperately needed.