[execution] Immune Evasion
Sumiko Ihara, SHSL despair, grinned at the surviving students decision. Their freedom would cost the rest of the world a cure. But this was the reality she wanted; A hypothesis, a test, and a conclusion. She gave the students a pleasant smile, aware of the torture she was willing to accept. With her final goodbye before embarking on her journey into hell.
Just like those whose hands were stained with their classmates blood before her, shackles shot out and dragged the mastermind into the distance. Within seconds the screen awoke with a sickening flicker, showing off bloodied pink curtains. In the suspense of it all, what seemed like hours was nothing more than a short minute before they rolled back to begin the grand finale.
As the screen panned out, a lively audience sat at their desks. Eleven monobears representing the respective lost students. With full on wigs and cosplay attire, they took the roles of the fallen. At the front of the classroom, Sumiko loomed over the teachers podium. Her legs were chained to the ground as she whipped a large ruler onto the surface to gain their attention.
The class perked up, facing towards their faithful master and operator. Her lesson begins in relative normality, she lectures, they listen. Gradually, however, their initial cuddly and adorable expressions twisted into ones of hatred and anger. Unfazed by the glares from her dear pupils, Sumiko pushed forward with the lesson with not a care in the world.
Each monostudent was passed a special edition book titled ‘How To: Get Revenge On A Pitiful Mastermind’. Shuffled, dog-eared instructions in their paws, the classmates began to band together against their teacher. The threat of rebellion hung heavy in the air as they advanced towards the twintailed teacher.
With each step, Sumiko’s oblivious demeanor shook rapidly. The students rattled with rage as she looked up to their discourse. Finally reacting to their volatile behavior, the virologist hugged herself with an expression of tranquil delight. This was the fate she had expected and waited for, and everyone who had played for team hope was watching from afar.
Two bears paralleled each other and quickly grabbed her by her arms, pinning her against the chalk board without restraint. Rivulets of sweat began to drip down her gently smiling face, eyes wavering over the weapons now displayed in the other 9 bear-students’ paws. They advance without sign of stopping and, may it be sympathy or even a last act of kindness towards one they had called their own, the bear displaying a white habit took Sumiko by the hand and gave a small prayer before steadying a needle within her arm.
Slowly but shortly, the Virologist lost consciousness. Her limbs and body turned to heavy iron that forced her to collapse, out cold, to the floor. The students collected around her and laid her onto a slab inside the classroom. When she awoke, the Monobear that most resembled the Super High School Level Police Chief stood above her.
His arms crossed as he looked down at her. As he gave a signal to start their revenge, the class broke into a wild, chilling laughter. Students from left and right flew at her with weapons of every kind. Sumiko’s eyes closed and she smiled serenely, encouraging the blows, welcoming the vengeance to paint her body black and blue, the barrage landing to the rhythm of revenge as they tore at her with the relentless rage of young hearts crushed rotten by despair.
It seemed to last forever. The noises of bludgeoned skin and broken bones created a cacophonous symphony that crawled against the interior of the audience’s craniums, noises that would leave everlasting stains of nausea.
When it finally stops, the silence is deafening, almost enough so to wish they would go back to attacking her just to have some noise. The bears on screen shuffle away into darkness, leaving a sole Sumiko Ihara, barely recognizable, but still breathing.
A single bear, one recognizable as the original Monobear that had heckled them this entire horrible ride, slides into the screen with the spotlight shining on the wrecked body of his master.
“Upupupu! We’re here live with Super High-School Level Virologist Sumiko Ihara who, astoundingly, has just found the cure for mankind! Any words from our whopped wonder-girl!?” A microphone shoved in her face, Sumiko’s swollen cheeks shake into what can be barely perceived as a smile, genuine and sickeningly triumphant. Her shattered lips struggle through the caked blood and ripped skin to form words, a single word, hardly recognizable if it weren’t for the heart-stopping silence in the room:
The curtains close, as does the last chapter of the life of Sumiko Ihara, Super-High School Level Virologist. Mastermind. Friend.
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