Battle Royale

"Your class will be mentioned in today's morning news. Of course because the Program must be conducted in secret, the details will remain undisclosed until the game ends. Now let's see, oh right, your parents have already been notified."

Everyone still seemed lost in a daze. Classmates slaughtering each other? Impossible.

"You still don't believe this is happening, do you?"

Sakamochi scratched his head with a troubled look. Then he turned to the entrance and called out, "I need you guys to come in!"

In response the door slid open and three men came rushing in. They were all wearing camouflage fatigues and combat boots and tucked under their arms steel helmets bearing the peach insignia. It was immediately obvious they were Special Defense Forces soldiers. They had assault rifles strapped over their shoulders, and Shuya could see automatic pistols holstered onto their belts. One of the soldiers was tall with strangely kinked hair, giving the impression of someone frivolous, the other was medium height, with a handsome, boyish-looking face, and the last one wore a slight grin, but was eclipsed by the charisma of the other two. They were carrying a large, thick nylon sack resembling a black sleeping bag. Various parts of the bag poked up as if it were stuffed with pineapples.

Sakamochi stood by the window and the three men placed the bag on the lectern. Both sides of the bag protruded over the lectern, particularly the side facing the window, and dangled down, perhaps because the contents inside were soft.

Sakamochi announced, "Let me introduce these men who will be assisting you for the Program. Mr. Tahara, Mr. Kondo, and Mr. Nomura. Now why don't you show them what's inside?"

The frivolous one, Tahara, approached the lectern from the side of the hall, placed his hand on the zipper, and pulled the bag open. Something drenched in red liquid...

"AIEEEEE!"

Before it was fully open, one of the girls in the front row screamed and was immediately followed by the others. As the desks and chairs made a clattering sound, other voices asked, "Whaaat?" and a soprano chorus swelled up.

Shuya held his breath.

He could see the body of the teacher in charge of Class B, Masao Hayashida, inside the half open bag. No, he was now their former teacher. Or in fact he was now the former Mr. Hayashida.

His flimsy blue-gray suit was drenched in blood. Only half of his large black glasses that earned him the nickname "Dragonfly" remained. What could you expect, only the left half of his head remained. Underneath the remaining lens the marblelike, crimson eyeball gazed absently at the ceiling. Gray jelly, what must have been his brains, clung to his remaining hair. As if relieved to be released, his left arm, still wearing a watch, poked out of the bag, dangling in front of the lectern. The ones sitting in front might have actually seen the second hand ticking away.

"All right, all right, all right, quiet now. Be quiet. Silence!"

Sakamochi clapped his hands, but the girls' shrieking wouldn't subside.

Suddenly, the boyish looking soldier named Kondo pulled out his pistol.

Shuya expected a warning shot into the ceiling, but the soldier instead grabbed the bag containing Hayashida with one of his hands, and dragged the bag down from the lectern. He snapped Hayashida's head up to his face. He looked like a hero in a sci-fi flick fighting a giant bagworm.

The soldier pumped two bullets into Mr. Hayashida's head. The rest of Hayashida's head flew apart. The high powered bullets tore apart his brains and bones which formed a bloody mist and splattered all over the faces and chests of the students in the front row.

The echoes from the gunfire subsided. There was hardly any trace of Hayashida's head.

The soldier tossed Hayashida's body to the side of the lectern. No one was screaming.

42 students remaining

4

Most of the standing students timidly returned to their seats. The uncharismatic soldier on the far side dragged the bag containing Hayashida's body to the corner of the classroom, then joined the other two standing by the lectern. Sakamochi returned to his position behind the lectern.

Once again the room turned silent, but that silence was soon broken by the sound of someone groaning in the back, followed by the damp splash of vomit splattering against the floor. Shuya could smell it.

"Listen up everyone. As you can see, Mr. Hayashida vehemently opposed your class' assignment to the Program," Sakamochi said, scratching his hair. "Well, it was all so sudden, we do feel bad about it, but..."

The room grew silent again. Everyone now knew. This was real. It was no mistake, nor was it a prank. They were going to be forced to kill each other.

Shuya desperately tried to think clearly. The unreal situation had put him in a daze. His mind was spinning from the horrible corpse of Hayashida and the role it played in this horror show.