Prologue: A Horrible Night to Have a Curse

"..."

"...Hey buddy…"

"...Come on, wake up. I haven't got all day."

"..."

I felt a sharp pain in my arm after that.

"Ow ow ow ow!" I exclaimed. My eyes quickly shot open, as I found myself in a place I have never seen before. It looked like a social studies classroom, and I was asleep on the floor. Keyword being was, because this guy who was telling me to get up was twisting my arm around - I don't think my elbow was supposed to be facing that way either.

I guess I should introduce myself before I go any further.

My name is Desmond Clue, and I'm an 18 year old high school student from Indiana. I'm also a huge fan of the stage. I don't know what it is, but whenever I'm on the stage I feel like I belong. Ever since it was available, I've been in choir during my years of school, and all of my teachers have commented how I was an amazing performer because of how natural it all felt to me. My stage performances weren't limited to just choir - I've also been in numerous stage plays. In fact, I was even on Broadway once!

So one day I got this letter in the mail from a place known as Hope's Peak Academy - it looked legit, and I was so excited to find out I was accepted into this prestigious school. What was even better was they were opening a school up in Indianapolis, which wasn't that far of a drive away from my house!

Hope's Peak Academy is a pretty cool place - apparently if you go there, you're set for life. The only two qualifications are as follows. First, you have to be attending high school. And secondly, you have to be talented enough to where you're the best of the best in your field. It doesn't matter what field you are in, so long as you're the best.

And according to the letter I got, I was accepted as the Ultimate Baritone. Pretty fitting if you ask me.

Anyway, that's enough about that. I looked myself over - I stand five foot nine and weigh 145 pounds. I have light brown hair hidden under a blue fedora, fair skin, and blue-green eyes. I have a cream colored button up long sleeve under a charcoal gray suit jacket, relaxed khaki pants, and black slip-on dress shoes. I also had on a black and white striped tie done in a double windsor knot.

The kid standing above me looked to be about my age, standing five foot ten and weighing 140 pounds. He had short, sandy brown hair, fair skin, and dark blue eyes. He had on a duster similar to my suit jacket in color under a royal blue dress shirt, khaki pants, and black dress shoes. He was eerily dressed similarly to me...sort of.

"Huh? What? Where am I?" I asked frantically. "What's going on?"

"Get up," The boy stoically responded. "There are better places to sleep than on the floor."

As I got up off the carpeted floor, I decided to strike up a conversation with him. "Who are you anyway?"

"...David Stonebreaker," The boy answered. "Do you remember anything before you woke up?"

"Well...I was dropped off at the front door by mom since I got a letter saying I was accepted here at Hope's Peak Academy," I explained, scratching the back of my head. "Then as I walked in the door I felt this sharp stinging pain in the back of my neck...now I'm here."

"I see…" David put a hand to his chin. "So you walked in, were incapacitated, and then woke up here?"

"Dude, I just literally said that," I responded with a frown. "Anyway...Desmond Clue. Are we the only two here?"

"Actually no," David answered. "I volunteered to check if anyone else was left in the building. We're all in the Commons. This is the last room I had to check among the areas that were not blocked off."

"Okay...think you could take me to the 'Commons'?" I requested. "I think I should introduce myself to everyone."

"Yes, we haven't gotten formal introductions out of the way between us and them," David agreed.

"Wait, you didn't introduce yourself yet to the others?" Desmond raised an eyebrow.

"...Let's go." With that, David was already headed out the door to take me to the Commons. I was following after him before I could even ask him to answer me.

We walked down a short hallway with a couple classrooms in it, one for each subject. I felt like this school's academic wing was only meant for a small group of people, which was me, David, and whoever else our classmates were.

The Commons was a moderately sized cafeteria with fourteen other individuals inside, each in their own respective corners of the room. To greet us, there was a man who stood six foot one and weighed 160 pounds, possessing dark brown hair, fair skin, and icy blue eyes. He had on a white muscle tee, army camo cargo pants, and sandy brown combat boots. And he looked like he was a bit mad at me and David. Namely me.

"You! Name and rank!" The man shouted, pointing at me.

"I'm not a soldier, man!" I exclaimed back.

"That is not how you are to address a soldier!" The man folded his arms sternly.

"He just woke up, sir," David calmly said.

"How can you be so calm!?" I asked, shocked. "We're not soldiers in an army!"

"Oh...forgive me," The man chuckled. "I was just giving you a hard time."

"Yeah, let's forget you screaming in my face just a moment ago," I deadpanned. "Desmond Clue. This here is David Stonebreaker. And you are…?"

"Chase Adams! The Ultimate Marine!" The man boldly proclaimed.

Chase Adams...he told us his story as we were trying to forget how he was yelling at me like a rabid animal. From what he told me, Chase seemed to have a genetic gift working in his favor when he started basic training. The effort and his performance was enough to cause the drill sergeants to openly respect him, a feat thought impossible by the other cadets. No wonder he got his title - even I think that's impossible, and I've never seen any sort of army base in my life, so I don't know what they're like.

"Anyway, David here thinks he and I should meet up with everyone else," I said.

"By all means." Chase nodded, stepping aside. "Report to me once you're done, Clue."

"I just said I'm not a soldier…" I frowned. Who made this guy leader? Not that I think he's a bad guy or anything, but he seems like the drill sergeants that befriended...actually, that makes perfect sense.

On a more calm note, the next individual we met was currently using one of the cafeteria tables to do stretching. She was the same age as me and David, standing five foot eight and weighing 131 pounds. She had short black hair, almond brown skin, and light brown eyes. She wore a bright yellow tank top, light blue ripped denim shorts, and white running shoes. She also had a white bandana wrapped around her forehead along with a pair of red, white, and blue striped sweatbands on her wrists.

If these people are either older or younger than me, I'll say so.

"Hey...miss?" I asked.

The woman looked at David and I. "Hmm? What is it?" She had a serene way of speaking, her voice soft as feathers.

"We just thought we'd get to know everyone," David said. "David Stonebreaker, and this is Desmond Clue."

"I see." She turned to bow to us. "I am Olivia Jones, the Ultimate Track Star."

Olivia told us all about her exploits - her true strengths lied within track and field. She possesses top of the line agility and dexterity, and those abilities earned her medals, trophies, and even was offered a spot on the US Olympics Team. Speaking of which…

"So hey...about that spot on the US Olympics Team…" I began. "What happened to that?"

"Oh that? I turned it down," Olivia answered.

"What? But why!? You're an amazing athlete!" I exclaimed.

"...Personal values," Was Olivia's answer. It was very clear she didn't want to say anything else, until David whispered something in my ear.

"Do you know how much love making goes on at the Olympic Village?" He asked.

"Ah...okay," I responded. "Sorry for asking, Olivia."

"Think nothing of it, Desmond," Olivia said with a smile.

We decided to move on to the next individual, who was pacing back and forth down one of the rows in the Commons. He stood five foot six and weighed 130 pounds, having light blonde hair, tan skin, and emerald green eyes. He had on a tan polo shirt with a short dark red tie, black slacks and light brown loafers.

"Hey, are...you okay?" I asked him.

"Am I okay? I don't know where I am, how I'm going to call my dad, and why we're all together in this windowless room," The young man said. "So to answer your question, no. I'm not okay."

"We're all in the same boat with you," David reassured him. "You got a name?"

"Why yes. You're looking at the sole owner of Ackermann Shipping Company, Maxwell Ackermann. The Ultimate Dispatcher!" The young man answered with a smile.

Maxwell was the owner of Ackermann Shipping Company, or ASC for short - a trucking business that was known for never missing a delivery. His leadership skills and planning led to ASC gaining their respected reputation of always being on time.

"With someone as bright as you, I say we appoint you as the leader," I mused. "Desmond Clue, and this is David Stonebreaker."

"Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen," Maxwell chuckled. "I hope we can get along."

"Yeah, same here," I smiled. Maxwell was a cool guy. I think we'll get along.

The next woman we met was in the far left corner of the Commons, writing down something in a notebook that must have come from here somewhere. And she was absolutely...stunning.

She was 20 years old, who stood five foot eight and weighed 138 pounds, who had long crimson colored hair, light skin, and chocolate brown eyes, and she had...uh...how you say, 'big tracts of land.' She had on a silver sequin dress that reaches down to her knees, black translucent leggings, and hot pink Mary Janes. Around her neck is a silver chain necklace with a heart shaped ruby charm.

"What a woman…" I breathed. David elbowed me swiftly.

"Keep it in your pants," He murmured.

"Oh?" The woman looked up from her notebook and turned to us. "I am quite the looker, aren't I?"

"Y-Yeah…." I stammered. "Nice to meet you."

"Forgive my friend's hormones," David deadpanned.

"No problem," The woman smiled. "I've plenty of fans, but I've never tied myself down. I am Melissa Scarlett, the Ultimate Mystery Novelist."

"Wait, you're THE Melissa Scarlett!?" I exclaimed with surprise. "I am a huge fan of your work!"

Coming from a wealthy family, Melissa always had a fascination with the mystery genre - her skills resulted in her writing several NY Times bestsellers - her latest novel 'A Dagger of Crimson' had sold out within record time. She's basically written about every single crime you can imagine, ranging from adultery, to armed robbery, to even the assassination of royalty.

"I see, that's wonderful," Melissa giggled. "It's nice to know I have some fans here."

As we walked on to the next individual, David looked at me. "Are you sure she's in your league?"

"What? Why are you asking that?" I responded.

David had a very brief, coy smirk, before his normal expression returned. "You seemed to have a crush on her."

Our next individual to meet was a man who was seemingly talking to himself, as if he was in front of a camera. Standing five foot nine and weighing 143 pounds, the man had dark brown hair done back in a slick and neat way and a bushy mustache reaching just to the edges of his mouth, slightly tanned skin, and pale green eyes. He was wearing a white button up dress shirt with a black tie underneath a burgundy colored suit jacket and pants, along with brown loafers, topped off with a gold wristwatch on his left wrist.

David and I had absolutely no clue what he was blabbering about, but we decided to ask anyway.

"Um...are you feeling alright, sir?" I asked.

The man turned to us, firmly standing at attention with a flashy smile. "Whenever there's a mystery or a hard-pressing headline, you can expect me to be there."

"...Ron Burgundy? Is that you?" I asked again. The man shook his head no.

"Not at all. The name is Ronnie Patrick, Ultimate Journalist," He introduced.

I've heard about this guy from multiple headlines - Ronnie Patrick is a man who wanted to find the truth no matter how much it hurts. His investigative work has exposed corruption on both the local and national level, but I think it has made him many enemies.

"At your service," Ronnie added.

"Okay, that's good to know," I said.

"You're an investigative journalist, right?" David asked.

"Why yes I am," Ronnie smirked. "I do say I'm quite the best at getting to the bottom of things. And mark my words, I'll get to the bottom of our situation!"

"...Let's go with that," David remarked. "We need to go."

"Stay classy, gentlemen," Ronnie waved us goodbye as we moved on to the next Ultimate.

Said next Ultimate was leaning up against one of the walls while looking down at the ground. Around 17 years old, she stood five foot four and weighed about 135 pounds. She had medium length black hair done in two braided ponytails, fair skin, and ocean blue eyes. She had on a navy blue zip-up hoodie with the hood over her head - with a Chicago Fire Department logo on the back, light blue jeans with ripped portions on them, and black ankle boots. Everything in my mind was telling me this girl was dangerous, but if she was in my class I had to introduce myself.

"Hello there," I warmly greeted. "I'm Desmond Clue. This is my friend David Stonebreaker."

"..." She didn't say anything at first.

"Um...we just thought we'd get to meet you," I continued, reaching for her hood. "Do you mind if y-OOF!" I quickly crumpled to the floor, for the girl had swiftly punched me in the stomach, forcing me to grip my torso in agony. In that single punch, all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Surprisingly, she knelt down to me in visible concern.

"Did I hit you too hard?" She softly asked.

"Y-Yeah you did!" I exclaimed. "Why did you punch me?"

"Sorry...it was a knee jerk reaction," She responded, helping me stand. "The name's Cheyenne Reston. But everyone I've met growing up calls me Street; and I am the Ultimate Street Fighter."

"That explains a lot," David commented.

Street told us how she had grown up in a firehouse after a...well, she didn't tell us exactly why she lived there. Originally she lived on, well, the streets of Chicago before finding herself that home. She made ends meet by learning from her surroundings and taking on all comers in underground fight clubbing. Street fought all challengers without fail.

After taking off her hood, Street said, "Just because I might look like a thug, doesn't mean I have the heart of one. But seriously. Don't reach for me like that again."

"Sorry about that…" I apologized.

When David and I walked away, the next Ultimate we met had a bit of a smile on his face from what he witnessed. At 19 years old, he stood five foot eleven and weighed 155 pounds, with light brown hair under an American flag ball cap, tanned skin, and dirt brown eyes. He had on a plain white tank top, light brown cargo pants, and similar colored work boots.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to touch someone you've never met?" The man asked. "Especially if they're a woman?

"Hey, I've never been in a fight before," I defended. "And that was first time someone's ever punched me…"

"Oh, okay. Sorry, I just didn't know," The man chuckled.

"Do I LOOK like the kind of guy that gets in fights all the time?" I responded, admittedly a bit dramatically.

"Calm down Desmond," David advised. "David Stonebreaker. You?"

"Robert Eagler. I'm the Ultimate Truck Driver," The man introduced.

From what he was telling us, Robert is a man of the road, going with his dad on his delivery runs during his childhood. He learned everything about the business from him, taking up the reins when he was old enough to drive. Neither rain, snow, sand, or highway robbers stopped him from doing his job.

"Woah...that's pretty cool!" I smiled.

"I know, right? Just stick with me, Desmond," Robert smirked. "We'll wisen you up just yet."

I decided to move on with David to the next member of this group, who was doodling something on a piece of construction paper. At 15 years old, she was the youngest and smallest member of this group standing at a mere 4 foot 9 and weighing 115 pounds, with blonde hair done back in a single ponytail, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She had on a light blue denim jacket over a white camisole with a couple splotches of multiple colors on it, a light yellow skirt that reached down past her knees, and pink sneakers, also with color splotches on them.

"What'cha drawing there?" I asked her.

The girl looked up at us from her seat. "I'm making fashion," She said. "See? It's a dress."

David and I looked at what the girl was drawing - despite being a rough draft of what the finished product would be, we could clearly see that it would become a beautiful dress.

"Pretty good," David said.

"Yeah, that's really pretty!" I added with a smile. "So...are you an ultimate drawer or something?"

The girl shook her head with a smile. "Nope! I'm Brooke Culling, and I'm the Ultimate Clothing Designer!"

Based on the story Brooke gave us, Brooke found her association with fashion when one day she accidentally painted on her mom's white sundress, and it was then her artistic talent was found. While her ideas were 'unique', she was ahead of the fashion world by not being afraid to do things most would never think of.

"I never would have imagined someone so young would have such an eye for art," David added.

"Mhm!" Brooke beamed at us. "I could make you a cool suit if you want me to, mister!"

"...That might not be so bad," David said after pausing for a moment. "David Stonebreaker, and this is Desmond Clue. Nice to meet you, Brooke."

"It's nice to meet you two," Brooke responded. "Let's be good friends!"

"We'll hang out after we meet everyone else Brooke," I promised.

Our next Ultimate that we met up with was in the center of the Commons, and he held some sort of book in his hands, muttering something. He stood five foot nine and weighed 145 pounds, with light black hair, fair skin, and gentle brown eyes. He had on a white and blue checkered flannel shirt, dark brown corduroy pants, and similar colored loafers. He had on a silver ring on his right hand with a small cross.

"Um...excuse us?" I spoke to him. "What are you doing?"

The young man stopped, turning to David and I. "Oh, sorry. I was offering up a prayer to the Lord for our safety."

"The Lord?" I asked.

"Religion," David explained, looking to the man. "If I had to guess, you're a practitioner of Christianity, right?"

"Why yes," The man answered. "Michael Faye. Ultimate Youth Pastor."

Michael was another guy I've heard about on the news. From what he's told us, he never missed a church service in his life. He made national news when he was asked to lead a pilgrimage from coast to coast that had 700 of America's youth walking with him. No idea why, but it was pretty impressive.

"That's pretty cool…" I breathed. "Anyway, I'm Desmond Clue, and this is David Stonebreaker. Sorry for not knowing about that. I've never been to church in my life."

"It's fine Desmond," Michael responded. "I'm aware that religion isn't for everyone; and that's perfectly fine."

"Maybe you could tell me more about it later," I suggested.

"Sure thing," Michael agreed. "I won't bore you to death with every single detail, so no need to worry about that."

The next Ultimate that David and I had the pleasure to meet was looking up towards the walls, which for some reason had the windows blocked by metal plates. At 17 years old, she stood five foot five and weighed 140 pounds. She had long black hair tied back in twin ponytails, light brown skin, and sapphire blue eyes. She wore a dark purple equestrian jacket over a tan woolen longsleeve shirt, black breeches, and similar colored riding boots with golden buckles. On her hands are a pair of snow white gloves.

"Oh, ¿qué hice para merecer esto?" She murmured in a language that was foreign to me.

"Did you say something?" I asked.

"Yeah, just wondering what I did to get put in this situation," The girl responded. "You don't speak Spanish, do you?"

"I went through classes for that in high school...but I don't remember much," I confided.

"I see...well, it's nice to meet you boys," She smiled. "Me llamo Chelsea Inez, and I am the Ultimate Equestrian Racer."

Chelsea was with her racehorse, a black haired stallion named Esperanza, since both were very little. It was that strong bond that enabled her to claim 1st place in multiple equestrian events, earning her the nickname 'La Calaberra de la Noche', which she told me meant 'The Dark Knight' in Spanish.

"The only way I know what that name has significance wise is through Batman," I confided.

"Oh, me too," Chelsea responded. "So who are you?"

"Desmond Clue, the Ultimate Baritone. This is David Stonebreaker...but he never told me his title," I said.

"I...don't recall what my title is," David admitted.

"Ah...is it amnesia?" I guessed.

"For all we know, it very well could be," Chelsea agreed. "Don't worry about it, David. I won't force you to try and remember."

"Thank you, Chelsea," David responded. "We ought to get introduced to the others."

"Very well then. Hasta luego." Chelsea waved us off to go meet the rest.

The next guy was kicking a wadded up ball of paper up and down two rows of cafeteria tables, looking occupied with that. He stood five foot seven and weighed 135 pounds. He had sandy brown hair, pale skin, and light blue eyes, wearing a red soccer jersey, white shorts with a red stripe running down both sides, and white and blue tennis shoes. He stopped kicking the ball and looked at us as we approached.

"Oh, top of the morning to you gents," He greeted. "Care to take a little time to play with me?"

"Not at the moment," David politely declined. "We're taking the time to meet everyone. David Stonebreaker. This is Desmond Clue."

"Thomas Scott," The man greeted, shaking hands with David. "I play football."

"You don't look like a football player to me," I pointed out. "I'd expect someone...taller, and bigger."

"No, I'm not- oh...okay. Sorry, almost forgot you were an American," Thomas said. "You call it soccer, but to me it's football. And, since this school is an American institution, I'm the Ultimate Soccer Player."

Thomas hails from across the pond, and he played soccer with his neighborhood's kids after school everyday, showing off his impressive skills on the pitch. He was given the chance to show the world his talent by winning the World Cup on the UK team.

"Wow...that's awesome, Thomas!" I exclaimed.

"Thank you, Desmond," Thomas chuckled. "Of course, I had the rest of the team to help me out, but I was the MVP in that tournament." He went back to kicking the ball. "Go meet the others, and I'll keep looking for someone to play with."

And so we set off to do that, with our next Ultimate we met with being a real bundle of energy, in an athletic way too. Standing five foot six and weighing 130 pounds, the next lady had medium length wavy chocolate brown hair, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. She had on a cheerleader's dress colored blue and gold with a pair of black compression shorts underneath, and white and gold tennis shoes. On her fingernails were cherry red nail polish. Seeing us, she pretended to hold pom-poms and started a cheer to David and I.

"Gimme a W!" She exclaimed.

"W!" I exclaimed back, playing along.

"Gimme an H!" She continued.

"H!"

"Gimme an O!"

"O!"

"Are you?" She finished, hands on her hips with a confident smile.

"Desmond Clue, the Ultimate Baritone," I greeted with a similar disposition.

"David Stonebreaker," David introduced in his cool as a cucumber mood. "You?"

The lady turned and took a running start, doing several cartwheels, jumping up in the air on the fifth cartwheel and doing a somersault before striking a pose. Everyone gave her a round of applause for this.

"Madelyn Starr, the Ultimate Cheerleader!" She greeted. "But call me Maddie."

Maddie got her start in her cheerleading career at a rather young age. She had a passion for dance and was further motivated by her parents' passion to be on top. Her leadership abilities and love for the sport got her national recognition and fame.

"Hey, that's pretty good!" I complimented. "You've sure got the stamina to be a cheerleader."

"Yup!" Maddie giggled. "It's why I'm the best of the rest."

"Well, I think we've got...two more people to introduce ourselves to," I said.

The last man we met with was 19 years old, and he was looking around the room, surveying the commons. He stood five foot eleven and weighed 155 pounds. He had short black hair, fair skin, and emerald green eyes. He wore a gray quarter-zip jacket over a white tank top, black track pants, and similar colored boots.

"Hello there," I greeted. "I'm Desmond Clue, and this is David Stonebreaker."

"I saw you get hit earlier," The man gruffly said. "You sure you okay?"

"Uh...yeah. I'm fine now," I told him. "...Did everyone see that?"

"Unfortunately it seems that way," David informed me.

The man chuckled. "I don't expect someone who looks like you to have been in many fights before. Anyway, I'm Jonathan Phoenix. I'm the Ultimate Firefighter."

Jonathan had his first experience with fire when he was five years old, when he put out a stove fire in his neighbor's apartment, mainly because he wanted to do something nice for them. Later in life around the age of 18, a fire caused by faulty pyrotechnics at a concert hall led him to take control to evacuate everyone and led the fire's containment. There were injuries, but no deaths.

"Dude...you've gotta have some big balls to do that kind of stuff," I was amazed at Jonathan's accomplishments.

Jonathan smirked. "Yeah, it's a really dangerous job...but at the same time it's so rewarding, you know?"

"Saving lives is always a rewarding experience," David mused in agreement. "It's an honor to meet you, Jonathan."

"If you two ever see smoke or whatever, just run and find me," Jonathan added. "I'll take care of it."

The last girl we met was playing with her hair innocently, sitting at one of the tables with a set of dice in front of her. At 17 years old, she stood five foot five and weighed 125 pounds, and had medium length pale blonde hair dyed a light blue, fair skin, and sky blue eyes behind a pair of bronze box-framed glasses. She had on a forest green v-neck, a denim skirt with white over the knee socks, and black tennis shoes with white stripes.

"Hey there," I waved. She looked to us.

"This all kinda feels like fantasy stories, doesn't it?" The girl mused. "We all woke up in this strange place, but it's not a jail cell or a tavern. I quite like this fresh feeling."

"Uh...okay then?" I blinked.

"David Stonebreaker," David introduced. "This is Desmond Clue."

"I am Felicity Blackwell, and I am the Ultimate Dungeon Master...of Dungeons and Dragons. I don't own an actual dungeon with prisoners and torture devices," Felicity introduced.

Felicity is credited with creating an award winning D&D campaign that was praised for its innovative design and bold plot twists. Everyone who had the pleasure of her being their DM came back with positive reviews. And we sure were able to tell why that was the case.

"Well, that's everyone…" David thought aloud. He pulled out a chair and stood on it, calling to everyone. "Can I have everyone's attention real quick?"

The others in the room congregated around the table that David, Felicity, and I were at. Stepping down from the chair, David began the conversation.

"So, just to ask for the sake of confirmation...Desmond told me when I found him that he received a letter saying he was accepted at Hope's Peak Academy. Did you all get similar letters?"

Everyone all responded with a yes one at a time.

"What does it mean?" Olivia wondered.

"Well, we don't know where we are, how we got here, or how long we've been here," Ronnie deduced.

"Ah, I see…" Maxwell realized.

"What? What?" Chase demanded. "Did you figure something out?"

"Yeah, if what Ronnie's deducing is right, and if it's connected to these letters of acceptance David was telling us about, then I think we're in Hope's Peak Academy," Maxwell continued.

"Wait a minute, if we're here at Hope's Peak...how come all the windows are covered?" Chelsea wondered.

"Hey...David?" I asked. "Did you notice anything about the doors as you were looking for me?"

"There's only one way out of here, and that's the front doors in the foyer. However, they're locked up tight. Not to mention, there were 'defenses' there to prevent anyone from getting in or out," David explained.

"So...you mean to tell us we don't have any way out?" Robert wondered.

"Unfortunately seems to be the case." David folded his arms.

"But why would anyone want to trap us in here?" Maddie then asked. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Puhuhuhuhuhuhu!" A high pitched voice rang out, causing all of us to look around rapidly for the source of the voice. "It makes perfect sense!"

"Who's there!?" Chase bellowed. "Show yourself now!"

At the far end of the Commons, there was a stage where a strange...thing showed up. It looked like a stuffed teddy bear, with one half being white and the other black, with the eye on the black side looking red and jagged. It stood up, causing all of us to jump.

"Who...what the bloody hell are you!?" Thomas exclaimed.

"Well, if you must know, my name's Monokuma!" The bear introduced himself. "I'm the proud headmaster here at Hope's Peak Academy."

"Uh...hello there," Michael responded in a surprised tone of voice.

"And we're trapped here why?" Felicity wondered.

"You're not trapped here, I'm keeping you all safe from the outside world," Monokuma defended. "What with all the crime, political strife, and all those nasty jaywalkers as well!"

"It's not like the world ended or anything...right?" Jonathan then spoke.

"Upupupu...oh, if only you knew, buddy," Monokuma giggled. "But...if you do want to leave, I have a proposition for all of you!"

"Is this something porn related? Because I have one restraining order against someone for making that kind of advance towards me," Melissa inquired.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not gonna ask you to strip naked," Monokuma assured. "I'll give you two choices. You can all either live here for the rest of your lives...or you can attempt to graduate!"

"...I'm almost afraid to ask what you mean by 'graduation'..." I said. But I was too curious to what this bear meant by 'graduation'. "How exactly does someone 'graduate', Monokuma?"

"As I said, you have two choices - either live here till the day you die...or escape by murdering one of your classmates," Monokuma explained with bone-chilling seriousness.

The entire mood in the room went to one of fear and uncertainty. We had all just met each other...and now this was the only way out?

"...Come again?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"You heard me, we're doing things Battle Royale up in here!" Monokuma responded. "Or Hunger Games if you prefer, you freaking weirdo."

"You honestly expect us to murder our classm-" Maxwell spoke up, but was cut off by the bear.

"I'm just gonna cut you off there with a yes! Come on, you're Americans!" He looked at Thomas. "...And one British guy, but whatever. Murder comes naturally to you bastards, so I don't have to do anything but sit back and watch!"

While everyone of us were processing what Monokuma was saying, one of us raised our hands to ask him something else.

"U-Um...Mr. Monokuma?" Brooke spoke up.

"Huh? What is it?" Monokuma asked.

"...What's 'murder'?" Was Brooke's question.

"..." Monokuma was silent for a good long moment, before actually facepalming. "...Seriously? You've NEVER heard of murder? What the hell have they been teaching you in school!? Have you never seen the news before, you simpleton?"

"Not...really…" Brooke confided, looking down at her feet.

"Well, if you must know, I'll give you the short version," Monokuma began explaining. "To murder is to willingly end the life of another person by any means necessary."

"That sounds horrible!" Brooke exclaimed.

"Upupu...kyahahahaha! Like I care!" Monokuma laughed. "Either way, those are your options! No Option C to pick that'll result in you all living, because I'm not the developers of GTA!"

"Hey, I can't speak for everyone here, but I'm positive that none of us would ever do that!" I exclaimed, pointing at Monokuma. "There's gotta be a way out of here without killing!"

"Oh, is that so?" Monokuma's jagged eye lit up momentarily. "You don't know these people, do you? You don't know what they're thinking - someone here might already be planning to murder one of you to escape. Who knows what they're motives are? I sure as hell don't care! But those are your only two options! Either live here for the rest of your days, or kill to escape! I'm not gonna stand here all day and repeat that for you!"

I let my arm lower at that. He had a point. I just met these guys - I didn't know who would be likely to kill me at all. A feeling of paranoia came over me as the reality of the situation sank in.

We were trapped.

Before he left, Monokuma tossed some sort of device to all of us. "Oh yeah, before I go, here's a little housewarming gift for all of you - these are your ElectroIDs. They're vital to school life, and kind of expensive, so don't go losing them! With that, let the Indianapolis Killing Game...begin!" With that, Monokuma left, leaving all of us to let paranoia and the fear of being killed sink in for all of us in silence.

Prologue: A Horrible Night to Have a Curse (END)

Survivors: 16/16

(And with that, this game begins. It only took me like, 3,000 years to put this all together, lawl. So yeah, these 16 individuals are all stuck in this academic prison, with the only way out being to kill someone? But there's no way this group of bright and promising young adults would do that...or would they?

This is my first time writing a killing game fic like this, so any advice you may have would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter 1's Daily Life will come whenever I get to it. Bye for now!)