The classroom tries to run. Door jammed. Windows locked. Phones with no signal. The smell of fear and urine starting to spread.
I point the revolver at Hana, who's pretending to cry beautifully.
— Your turn, love.
She lifts her head, eyes gleaming:
— Are you really going to shoot your little girlfriend, Satori-kun?
Barrel pressed to her forehead.
POW!
Her head explodes in slow motion… or so it seems. Fake blood splatters, pressure capsule, everything rehearsed. Gelatin brain oozes onto the desk.
She collapses dramatically.
The room screams, "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"
High-pitched, hysterical laughter.
Hana gets up, wipes off the fake blood, and licks her finger.
— HAHAHAHA! You should see the looks on your faces! Oscar for best actress, please!
She pulls off the wig with the "brain" attached.
— Now the show is OURS, darlings.