ThePLOTHand: Once more, I have to credit your soundtrack (Though Aisha got left out, but that's fine!). And yes, Theresa is in a bit of a pickle at present. You will learn a lot about HALLIE and what her exact role is in this chapter. I can't comment on that theory, only to say that it's meant to be read as quite sarcastic. Now, whether or not that means your theory is wrong...well, we'll leave that for a later date. :D

This part is a little choppy and may feel a tad too exposition-heavy for you, and that's fine, it's the last part of the prologue and I've got to get a lot of information out there. Hopefully, starting with Chapter One, my writing will improve. Now, let's get down to a few notes regarding how the Chapters are going to work from here on out.

-FTE's are going to be used via a method I've seen previously in a few Fanganronpa, not usually used, but I think it works. In order to provide a fair amount of character for each participant, I'm going to try and do at least one FTE for each character in the first chapter. Afterwards, depending on whether or not that is popular, I'll probably pick some out of a randomizer. I would set up a poll, but I...honestly am not sure I wouldn't screw it up. XD.
-Average I'm looking at at present is three to four parts for Daily Life, then one for investigation, and probably two for the trials.
-Updates will probably be a bit slower after this one, as most of the Prologue was written up before hand and it was a matter of cutting and stretching some bits. Hopefully it won't be too long, but just so you know.
-I'm considering changing the title, which do you prefer, Danganronpa UK or Fanganronpa UK?

With that in mind, let's get to it!

The walk back was mostly silent, with the exception of Chelsea occasionally piping up to make a few remarks that served to break the awkward silence. Roy didn't look nearly at ease as he had earlier, and considering how unhappy he had looked then, that was quite the feat.

"All right." Jamie sighed. "So, if you nerds want to do your tech….thing, I'll see if there's anything in those vending machines."

"O-Okay." Maria took a deep breath. "Okay, so let's try the easiest one first. Y-Your password, Roy?"

"Right." Roy bit his lip.

Pat would have listened more, but Al glancing out of the window caught their attention. Crossing over to join him, they were able to get a clear enough glance back down towards the dock. The water appeared to be lashing at the rock far more fiercely now, and the skies were turning a dismal shade of grey.

"Not exactly Mallory Towers, is it?" Al muttered.

"Oh wow, I have…not thought of those books in a while."

"Heh. Neither have I. Nadia loved that stuff growing up, so she, ah, persuaded us to take a look." Al shrugged. "Could have been worse, I suppose." He glanced back. "How's it going, Jamie?"

"Screw this."

"Ah, that well?" Al rolled his eyes. "Keep telling our mechanic to focus less on the generators, more on the vending machines, but he never listens." He paused. "I'm trying to do the 'small talk' thing, in case you couldn't tell."

"I-It was seamless."

Al sighed. "Not a good first day for you, is it?"

"It…wasn't going to be even before this happened." At that, Al gave them a look, and they offered a weary sigh. "I could have really gone with another few hours of napping before I got on the boat."

"Ah." Al nodded. "It's a tradition for new teachers to be, ah, spirited away in the middle of the night to get to Prosperity. Not a good one in my book, but-" He paused. "Weather's really picking up."

Jamie sidled up, handed Al a carton of orange squash, then dumped a large bag of Mariba sweets in the hands of Pat and downed half a can of fizzy pop before speaking. "Figure they'll find anything?"

"Not at the rate we're g-g-g-going!" Maria called out. "Okay, so, uh, let me take control?"

The other three glanced outside. Al let out a low groan as two figures approached the doors, and stepped aside for them to enter.

"I swear, it'll be fine!" Robert protested. Theresa shot him a glare, and then softening it, headed over to the desk. He glanced to the three of them. "She doesn't want to have to keep miming all night, so she's getting some paper or something, write down basic stuff." He rolled his eyes. "It's annoying, to be sure."

"Anything so far?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Al frowned. "Yes. I would."

Maria stood up and walked over, wringing her hands. "It's, uh, it's a no go with the main computer. I….I can try the IT room upstairs, but I doubt it'll be any b-b-better." She offered a shaky smile. "Um, i-i-if Theresa is having troubles, I'm s-sure there's a speech generating device s-s-somewhere around here, some of the students have to use them."

Robert shrugged. "Sure, I think it'd help. Ta." He coughed. "Found nothing so far, Sam's getting on Laura's nerve, and I suppose moi is not helping matters much either!" He winked. At no one in particular, just a general wink to the assembled masses. "Still, we'll get there, eh, Theresa?"

Theresa pulled a pen out, hurriedly scribbled on the first piece of paper and turned around to reveal the word: YES.

"Capital! We'll leave you to it!"

As they left, Theresa looked back at them, in worry. Then, as if it had never happened, it flickered away and she followed after Robert.

"So...IT room?" Maria asked, quietly.

"Yes, probably should." Chelsea grinned to Roy, and then to Pat. "Fancy checking in on the second and third floor?"

"Ah...sure?"

In silence, they walked back towards the corridor, then turned right. A large flight of stairs divided in two, both sides wide enough for seven to eight students in a row to walk up, lead to the second floor. Jamie moved up the right flight, ignoring Roy's protests that the left side was the one for people going up.

"I don't think she really cares." Al said, watched as Jamie stormed ahead quickly.

"No one does." Roy's sigh was sad "It would be nice if they made an effort to hide it, though."

To please the boy, the others decided to stick to the left side, though in reality it didn't really make much difference. By the time they had gotten up the stairs, Jamie was already heading towards the third flight of stairs. As the others followed her, Chelsea and Pat hung back.

"So-" Chelsea said, as Al and Roy rounded the last corner. "-the first floor is primarily there for reception and the staff room, and supplies and all that." She gestured around. "Up here is where the 'magic' happens, apparently."

Pat laughed. Though the corridor had much of the same decor and style as the reception area, the addition of the lights made it far more appealing and easy on the eye. Comfortable was the word they'd use to describe it.

Pat couldn't really explain why they weren't freaking out as much as they probably should be. Was it because Roy and, to a lesser extent, some of the others were far more worried, and their teacher instinct was kicking in? It was a little disconcerting, but they decided to not dwell upon it. "So, how many times are supply teachers needed?"

Chelsea considered this as she held open the first door to her right. "Hm...once or twice per month is...maybe the average. Illness is something we try and power through, but sometimes there are things that do require more serious examination." She gestured. "This is William's classroom, it's basically the library if you can't reach the actual one, for whatever reason."

"Woah."

Chelsea wasn't kidding. The classroom itself consisted of three large wooden square tables, with a series of plush blue chairs surrounding them. That wasn't what was most noticeable, however. There were massive bookcases containing a variety of books, some of them the massive tomes that would be in most old libraries (Pat was fairly sure no one ever read them, but to each their own), and others being a variety of hardback and softback books. That was where the order ended, however, with a variety of armchairs that littered around a loose papered covered desk, that was next to a fake looking fireplace. The papers spilled from the desk, onto the floor and hidden in places that Pat was sure weren't reachable.

Chelsea laughed. "Yep. A real mad professor." She smiled softly. "He's quite something though, isn't he?"

"Is he always that...verbose?"

"Always! It's worrying if he isn't, to be honest."

They glanced out of the window, at the dark sky. "It's so cold here." Pat said.

"Ah, you get used to it." Chelsea hesitated, then put a hand on their back. "Are you doing okay, by the way?"

"I have been better."

Chelsea nodded to this, then indicated that they should move on.

The next room was immediately identifiable as a music room. The variety of sheet music stands, numbering at least thirty, was the most obvious indication of this. As was the large conducting baton which was, presumably, property of Bartholomew.

A few cabinets had been opened, and judging by the expression on Chelsea's face, that was not expected. She quickly looked in them, muttering to herself how Barty would "Flip his lid" when he found out, before turning back to Pat and smiling once more, painfully. "No problem, just...can't be too careful."

"Right."

The last room was the widest of the lot, and it was very clear why. It almost felt out of place in the more scholarly floor. Nonetheless, the large locker room shared one thing in common, and that was that it was immediately obvious to whom it belonged to. Several of the lockers were still open, with a few spare football kits and boots left lying in them. There were also several pictures here like Barty's room. With one minor exception.

"Are those...of Wayne?"

"He made Sam paint several of him." Chelsea rolled her eyes. "Damn footballers."

"Heh." Pat tilted their head. "It's an odd place for a locker room?"

"Yeah, this is a emergency room, mostly, in case the normal locker rooms aren't available, and Wayne just calls it his office because no one can afford to give him a proper one."

"Fair enough."

There was nothing else to say, so with that in mind, they headed upstairs to meet up with the other four members of the group. Once more, there were three rooms, these ones looking about the same size as the locker room. Murmuring came from inside the room furthest down the corridor, so they headed over to join them.

The room itself was packed full of computers. Along each of the four walls of the rectangular room, lay a long table, upon which rested as few as four and as many as six computers, depending on the length of said wall. The blue carpet appeared to be very scuffed, no doubt as a result of being used by so many students over such a period of time, though the cream walls appeared to be in good enough condition.

"No no no-"

"Anything?" Chelsea asked, clearly spotting what Pat had already seen, that Tara was clearly in the middle of some breakdown or other.

"Internet's down across the board, Tara's drying to get Wi-Fi back up and running, but it's taking an ice age." Al looked weary. "And she has been none too shy about letting us know it's not going well."

"FUCK!"

"So, er, so I see." Pat hesitated. "So, um...any chance it's just the one computer that's not connecting?"

"Nah." Jamie shrugged. "We've tried a few of them, no dice."

"What about those ones?" Underneath the table lay three or four different computers, each one carrying a significant amount of dust. Al shook his head and pointed to the nearest one. Pat peered and realised that the screen was cracked.

"Huh."

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-" Tara bit her lip so tightly that Pat feared she may draw blood.

"How about we take a moment?" Al put his hands on her shoulders, as she began to slam her hands on the keyboard. "Orrrrrr not!" He hesitated. "Oh, Roy's not back yet?"

"Where, uh, is he?"

"Probably in either the trophy room or the student council meeting room." Al looked at Tara, who had her face in her hands while Chelsea gently patted her on the back. "As you can tell, emotions are running high."

"I can take a look if you want."

"If you wish." Al shrugged. "Be honest, I'm at a loss for what to do with this situation, but I'm afraid if I leave, things will break down completely."

"That's not a stupid observation."

"Okay!"

Pat left, hesitated and then randomly picked the door closest to their right.

The student council room, they presumed as there were no trophies on display, was about the closest thing to what an average classroom looked like thus far in the academy. Grey walls covered in noticeboards with various achievements pasted up upon it, including a few records from past students and the occasional photograph of a school trip, and quite a significant amount of wear and tear throughout. Groups of tables shoved together to form three large ones, it was all very nostalgic for Pat.

However, no Roy, which meant that by process of elimination, there was but one room to check.

The Trophy Room was, naturally given it's title, a strange mixture of gaudy and impressive. There was maybe a few feet of actual room to walk about in, the rest of it was taken up with massive display cabinets and table cloth covered stands. The amount of trophies there was staggering.

Roy was sitting on a armless chair, looking around in a manner that indicated he was enjoying the peace and quiet. He looked up in alarm as Pat entered. "Sorry Mx, just wanted to get a bit of calm!"

"It's fine, really." Pat smiled. "I've already been here for a few hours and I'm already exhausted."

"Yes." Roy steepled his fingers. "It's a bit much."

Pat looked around. "Lot of trophies." They said, an understatement if ever they had remarked it.

"Yes, it's been quite hard having to work out how to store them all." Roy smiled and pointed to one. "That one's mine, so the rest of the council insisted that I put it up front and centre."

"Oh, nice!" Pat leaned in and read the plaque."To the winner of the Oxford v Prosperity Debating Tournament, Roy Watson! Oh wow, that is really impressive!"

"Thank you, Mx!" He gestured around. "A lot of the stuff here's better though."

"Don't sell yourself short. I'd kill to get something like this." Pat sighed. They paused, and glanced towards Roy. "The rest of the council asleep?"

"Hopefully!" Roy looked indignant. "I told them repeatedly to get some proper sleep beforehand so that we can have a good meeting tomo-Oh, technically today, I think." He looked annoyed. "Ah, I'm going to get it for being such a hypocrite."

"Heh. Don't worry about it. I'll cover you, if I have to."

"Thank you."

And at that moment, there was a massive crackle of static, and once more, a voice crackled from out of a speaker.

It was not the headmaster's voice.

"ROLL UP! ROLL UP! IT'S TIME TO START! Please make your way to the outside of Building Five for an important announcement! That is not, by the by, a request, it is an order! So get your arses moving!"

It was a horrible, raspy yet squeaky sound. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Pat could not lay a finger on why. Roy looked at them in fear, so they offered a brave smile they didn't really feel. "Let's go see, shall we? We can meet up with the others."

"R-Right."

And so, as the others emerged from the IT room, they made their way back down the stairs, to the outside.

…

As they exited the building, a large table caught the attention of both Pat and Roy, on it were a selection of tablets that hadn't been there a minute before. Quickly, Roy scooped them up and followed after the rest of the teachers. They saw the rest of the teachers returning. None of them looked to be in a good mood.

Chelsea appeared to be about to ask what was going on, but Laura answered for her. "Somehow we've been walled off!" She pointed behind her. "Everything bar our quarters and Building Five is behind some sort of barricade."

Glancing behind her, Pat could see that Laura wasn't joking. Large yellow walls, the kind you might find on a construction site, had been erected. I wasn't paying attention coming in, but I'm one hundred percent positive that those weren't there.

"Any luck on your end?" Sam asked.

Judy looked as though she was going to throw something. Or someone. Taylor coughed and shook his head. "According to her, the security hut is pretty much as she left it, no disturbances of any kind. That being said, there's no guards here, and if there was a scuffle like Wayne said, it's been cleaned up sharpish."

"Phones are down too." Nadia slapped away an insect. "Oh this is just great! What about you? Anything?"

Pat's group sadly shook their heads. Roy, appearing to be staggering underneath the weight of the tablets, passed them around, so that by the time that only his was left, each member of the group had their own tablet.

"Password to the reception computer's changed." Al looked to Aisha. "I don't suppose you can check it out for us when we go back?"

"I-I can give it a try once whatever…you know, this is." She glanced around, fearfully. "Did any of you recognise that voice?"

"I'd really hope not, poppet! It would rather ruin the point!"

There was two seconds worth of silence as the twenty figures looked at each other. Then as one they turned their head towards the sky.

Atop the building stood a small figure, crouched over to the point where he almost appeared hunchbacked. Surrounding him was what appeared to be a small armoury's worth of weaponry, guns of all shapes and sizes aimed directly at the group.

The figure suddenly leapt up into the air as if he was Superman, before landing down on the ground with such force that the tarmac cracked. He straightened up, coming just to about Al's size, and grinned, flashing razor sharp teeth, the kind that would have made sharks jealous. His 'skin', an unnatural reddish pink that appeared more like paint than a normal pigment, also had the appearance of being stretched to near breaking point over his...curious facial features. He had a long, sharp nose, a pointed chin that defied all physics and jagged red eyes, that looked like lightning bolts had been carved into his face. He wore what, at first sight, appeared to be a clown's outfit, but in reality was just clothes constructed to look that way. A faded-blue vest with comically oversized crispy black sleeves and baggy pants, with a pair of dirty red boots. To complete the ensemble, a cap of a similar colour rested upon his head, drooping to the side.

That was the trigger for much shouting and confusion.

"What even the hell?"

"O-O-Oh god!"

"How did it…did we-?"

"It talks! Why does it talk?"

"Awwwwwwwwww yes, that's the way to do it! Did you see my fucking landing!?" The voice was, impressively, managed to be almost human-like. That made it worse. A raspy yet high pitched voice, with the faint background noise of what was referred to in puppetry circles as a swazzle. It all felt very unnatural. "I'm something of a celebrity m'self. Mr Punch, at your service. I am an inspector, of sorts, and also your new chief of security! Sorry, Judy, but it needed to be said! You fucking suck."

Judy growled and moved forward. "You have ten seconds to explain what the hell is going on, and then I'm going to do my job!"

"Oh there's a first time for everything!" Punch grinned. It was not pleasant.

"You listen to me!" And Judy strode forward, grabbed Punch by the neck, lifted him up...

And froze.

"Now see, here's the deal." said a second, far more monotone voice. "You keep him in that position, and I'll have to get your co-workers to change theirs. Namely from standing, upright and alive, to lying down, dead and in millions upon millions of tiny pieces. I will do it, upon my word."

Judy hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on the guns, slowly moving back and forth as they began to focus upon the teachers. Then, furiously, she dropped Punch, who landed smack on his arse, still grinning.

The speaker was that of a woman. In nearly every way, she was a contrast to Punch. Tall, ramrod straight, she moved like a human, except not quite. Humans, for instance, didn't actually appear to be gliding across the ground upon which they walked. Though it seemed strange to all of them, it was at the very least clear that this woman was not human. The metallic silver skin that shone in the light and nearly dazzled everyone. She wore an old Victorian dress, alternating black and white colours split in two vertically, the black appearing more tatty than the white. The only thing that the two of them had in common was the eyes. The same lightning bolt shape, the same bizarre red colour, and the same...malice.

William did not appear to be impressed. "Ho! And what, pray tell, are you? Some demented sex-bot that this monstrous puppet has for his own pleasure?"

"I wish." muttered Punch. The woman glared at him and then turned back.

"I am Monoline." She said, sternly. "Consider me an Inspector. I will be running this operation and assessment along with my associate. Please note that if any of you wish to leave this Island, you will not. Even in your original position, you would not be able to make it to land before drowning."

She paused, and then added impressively. "And you are most certainly not in your original position anymore."

"So, to the little Amadeus wannabe back there, don't go in the water. Or do, and die!"

"Get back here!" hissed Sam, grabbing Barty, who had almost broken free of the group. "Don't you bloody dare!"

Punch sniggered. "No, no, if he wants to, let him! It's his funeral, literally! No skin off my teeth! And for the record, if anyone else has the thought of trying to get out at our expense-"

There was a rapid fire series of clicks, and the entire rooftop of Building Five seemed alive with guns pointing directly at the group.

"-well, we'll try and give what remains of you some respect. We won't mock you for a good, oh, five minutes."

"What do you want?" Roy's fear was very clear in his voice.

"A lot of things. Money! Fame! Sunscreen! Oh, and more specifically, to announce the first, Prosperity-Exclusive….Killing Game"

If he had expected a reaction to this, they were sorely disappointed. A few more murmurs rose up, but not much else. Everyone appeared to be more baffled by Punch being, well, Punch.

If they had expected a reaction to this, they were sorely disappointed. A few more murmurs rose up, but not much else.

"Hmm…no, that's fair, we need to explain this better!" Punch cleared his throat. "So, here's the deal! This Island is under our control now. The sections we've cordoned off aren't for your access. Try it, and, well, again, GUNS. So, good news and bad news. Good news, you can go on ahead as you would normally here."

"Bad news-" Monoline interrupted, grimly. "-you're not getting a break. You're staying here-"

Both pair of eyes glowed bright red before she intoned a simple statement.

"-for the rest of your natural life."

Now that did garner a reaction.

Not the one they might have been expecting, however.

Mocking laughter cut through this announcement. Robert seemed to be leading it, but it was clear that quite a few of the others were joining in. The quieter members of the group weren't joining in, but it was clear from their expressions that bemusement was the only thing running through their own minds.

"That is ridiculous!" snapped Chelsea, cheeks red with stress. "A few hours and you've managed to take out every other security guard and the headmaster? You're having us on!"

"You're ludicrous, you know!" Robert grinned. "You're not scaring us, you freaks! What are you going to do? Lecture us to death?!"

Theresa tapped Martin on the shoulder and a piece of paper. Martin read it, widened his eyes and looked up.

"Where the hell are the students?"

"Welllllllll-" Punch smiled, thought for a moment, and shrugged. "I dunno." He slammed the ground. "Enough of this shit, You don't need to know anything about them! They're not the ones you need to worry about. Look to your own ranks if you want to, getting stuck on here for the rest of your lives must be...quite galling for some of you."

"Oh come on!" Aisha looked more annoyed than anything. "We're not going to turn on each other, we've read Lord of the Flies, we're teachers for goodness sake!"

"My my, so sure! ….Well, I mean, I get it. No one wants to stay here forever. But you will, cause we've got a Punch approved, honest to god Killing Lesson Plan in place for you. Still, there is one way off."

There was silence for a moment.

"Well?!" Nadia snapped.

"Kill someone."

It was said so casually. That was what made it worse. Like saying "What nice weather" or "Interesting jacket". Like it didn't matter. Like it wasn't a big deal. Monoline's statement was, like what else she had said thus far, cold and to the point.

The response was far more to their taste, judging by the look on Punch's face. There was still some laughter, but this seemed more...uneasy, somehow.

Punch continued. "Course, killing someone isn't just what you have to do, it's more a...starter. The main course is what in the Killing Game business is referred to as a Class Trial. All of you that remained will be made to render judgement upon the guilty party, or blackened, after a period of investigation! If you find the blackened, they get what's coming, but if you fail, they get out and you are left to reap what others have sown for you. It's not fair, but then, what in life is?"

"I'm a linguist and I have no idea what in Gott's name you are saying." called out Jean.

"This is ridiculous." Aisha drew herself to her full height and glared at the two of them. "How can you do this?"

"Quite easily!" Punch said, matter of fact.

"You still do not believe us." This was a statement, not a question. Monoline looked to Punch, then to the assembled crowd. She sighed. "Well, in case you don't believe us, perhaps this will convince you."

There was, probably deliberately, a gap between the two figures. It wouldn't be empty for long.

The figure flickered in place, sound cutting in and out. It was hard to make out what the noise was at first, but Pat realised what it was with a sinking feeling in their stomach. An electronic scream, fluctuating in volume and length, emitted from the mouth of HALLIE.

At last, the image of her stablilized. She had undergone a radical change. Her right eye had been gouged out, in similar fashion to the other two creatures, her tunic looked to have been transformed into a horrible mishmash of black and white lace and stitching, leaving areas on her arms and legs exposed, and on these areas, ghostly white puppet strings appeared to have painfully been attached.

"HALLIE!" Tara charged forward, racing towards them. "What did you do to-"

The guns fired. HALLIE let out a cry as the ammo inside arced towards her creator. But, with a sudden rush of speed, Wayne knocked Tara to the ground, and dragged her back as the bullets thudded into the ground.

"i-" HALLIE groaned, then yelped as Monoline touched...something on her arm, and she stammered out. "-I will announce the rules of this...th-this new killing game, to you all."

"How is that even possible?" Taylor hissed.

"It shouldn't be!" Judy snarled back.

HALLIE shuddered, as if an invisible person had grasped her neck. As she spoke, Pat's tablet pinged, and they opened it up. The screen, an image of Prosperity's logo in black, white and grey, were quickly covered with light green text. HALLIE recited the rules word for word, punctuation mark for punctuation mark. Pat's eyes widened as they read each rule.

Rule #1: Participants will reside only within the perimeters of the Island, and all buildings within. Leaving campus is an unacceptable use of time.

Rule #2: "Nighttime" is from 10 pm to 7 am. Some areas are off-limits at night, so please exercise caution.

Rule #3: Sleeping anywhere other than the residential quarters provided will be seen as sleeping in class and punished accordingly.

Rule #4: With minimal restrictions, you are free to explore the areas available to your heart's content.

Rule #5: Violence against the inspectors is strictly prohibited, as is destruction of 'school property'.

Rule #6: Anyone who kills a fellow participant and becomes "blackened" will graduate, unless they are discovered.

Rule #7: Once a murder takes place, a class trial will begin shortly thereafter. Participation is mandatory for all surviving participants.

Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be punished.

Rule #9: If the guilty party is not exposed, they alone will graduate, and all remaining participants will be punished.

Rule #10: Additional school regulations may be added if necessary.

"This is bull!" Wayne sounded legitimately angry now. He laughed, but it sounded more breathless and unnerved than it was probably meant to. "You're...you're full of shit!"

"I have a few questions for ye." Peter's voice was ridiculously calm, considering all that was happening. "School property. What does that constitute?"

"Don't destroy anything you'd realistically have to pay for."

"...Fair point. And punishment, what does that entail?"

"Oh that's something you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Do you think we're stupid?" Pat found themselves speaking up, and they had no idea why that was happening. "We're...We're not some test subjects or something! We're...We're not going to throw someone under the bus just for the hell of it!"

"Bravo!"

"Well said!"

"Hmm...I'll remember you said that." Monoline smiled. It was not pleasant in the slightest. "We'll let you get settled in."

Punch smirked. "Oh, and by the way, to Big Bang Theory girl over there, your A.I's sticking with us. There's so MUCH here to learn about." He leered at HALLIE, who flinched. "All right poppets! Don't disappoint us now!"

There was a loud crack, as if from above, and as everyone's eyes raced up to the guns, the three figures vanished as if they had never been there.

For a split second, there was nothing but the wind and a bizarre silence.

Several of the others let out breathes they weren't aware that they had been holding in. Pat felt their knees buckle, and sliding to the ground, they gripped onto their arms, breathing in and out again and again. Despite their words, there was no doubt that this was all so strange and terrifying, and the panic began to set in.

"Easy, easy." They heard someone say. "Come on, we...we should head back to the cafeteria, catch our breath, work out something for god's sake."

There was, once more, unsure murmurs of vague agreements. Pat was helped to their feet by Al, who looked at them with a confused expression that was probably engraved on their own.

They entered the cafeteria, and instantly Martin headed for the kitchen. Without a word he immediately got to work preparing food, dragging stuff out of the fridges and moving things aside. Pat could hear this even as they took deep breaths, not quite calming but certainly cooling down the raging hot panic that was in their stomach.

"Must be a record for worst bloody first day ever." Peter remarked, not entirely unsympathetically.

Pat laughed, weakly. "Yeah."

Martin bustled on through, handing out food to everyone seated. "I'm not too sure about the food situation." He remarked, once he was sure everyone had something. "I can take stock later, if you want. I think we're good for at least a month."

"Which we won't be here for!" Aisha said, defensively, staring at a rather ashen faced Roy.

"Wh-Oh no! Course not! Just...just a precaution!"

"That was ridiculous." Nadia glanced around. "As if any of us could ever do something like that."

"It would be illogical to dismiss the ideas outright." Peter said, coolly.

"It would also be illogical to assume that we'd crack that easily." Sam glanced around. "For God's sake, we live on an Island that's near completely isolated from the mainland as a norm. If Martin's right, we've got enough food to last us for a good while, we all know each other, what the hell do they think's going to happen to change our minds?!"

"I have a horrible feeling that they have already prepared for that." Taylor murmured.

"Well talk of that nature is hardly going to get us anywhere, is it?" Laura snapped. "...All right. We have to do something. Any suggestions?"

Tara sniffed. "I-I-If I can get a h-hold on HALLIE, we m-might be able to understand what their idea is." She wiped her nose. "i-i didn't know wh-what I was looking for before, but maybe this time?"

"That's...an angle to look at." Laura was nothing if not discreet. "Any other ideas?"

William coughed. "It occurs to me that perhaps we have been too hasty in declaring there to be nothing we can do. It is possible that what one group of people may have missed in this building, or perhaps around the Island, another may be able to locate it, with a fresh set of eyes perhaps."

"That's a point!" Chelsea's eyes began to sparkle. "Maybe there's something around that we've missed!"

"A full scale search of the areas that we've missed?" Laura considered this. "It might be worth doing. Nice thoughts, William."

"Bah!" William blushed, all the same.

"We can do this!" Wayne grinned. "Come on, have at it!"

...

This optimism did not last.

Another check of the Island, this one in far more depth and taking the remaining hours of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon, had revealed nothing but the same. Walls springing up, stopping them from going where they were not wanted, no signs of any other people having been there, and every time one of them had gone near the water, the faint but distinct sound of large jaws snapping shut. No one had any idea what those were, and no one dared to venture in that direction to find out.

"So what now?" Sam asked the question to a crowd of weary, nervous people, all of whom were deep in thought.

"We could always-"

"We're not going to try and swim." Laura glanced at Wayne, who glowered but simmered down. "They do have a point, even if we haven't moved, chances are we'll still drown before we reach land."

Tara closed her eyes. "Uh, I-I think maybe I-I should try the computers again? It may be p-possible, now I know what the problem is, to h-h-hack into them and s-send a message out for help."

"Those things are supposed to be unhackable! My group have run every test they can think of upon them, no one's been able to get in without us knowing!"

"Then how, Judy, did they get control of HALLIE?" Taylor growled, the faint note of distress in his voice giving way to annoyance.

"Look, that's fine and all, but I think we should maybe get some sleep." Martin held up his hands as everyone turned to look at him. "Listen, it sounds barmy, but we're all pretty much running on fumes. That nap we took isn't long enough to fully recharge our batteries, we can approach things properly once we've slept it off, take the rest of the day off and then wake up fresh and early."

"As fresh and early as can be." Laura nodded. "I think that's a damn good idea."

"How can we be sure that those two won't murder us in our beds?!" hissed Jean.

"Well they could have just killed us while we were all gathered together." Pat pointed out. "But they didn't."

Jean offered the supply teacher a look that indicated that this suggestion was neither wanted nor appreciated. However, she said nothing, and agreements were made to head back to their rooms and get the best rest they could in the situation.

"Um...w-where am I going to sleep?" piped up a small, scared voice.

Everyone turned to see Roy, looking smaller than ever and, though clearly trying to put a brave face on it, completely out of his depth. His hands shook as he grasped the table. "The rules say I have to sleep in official quarters, but my lodgings have been locked away behind that wall."

"There's always one or two rooms spare!" Chelsea said, encouragingly. "And worst come to worst, we can always...share..." She pinched her brow. "Oh, realised how that sounded far, far too late."

"Wh-what about the rest of the students?" Roy asked, unable to stop the stutter slipping out.

"Well, considering that we've not seen any signs of violence with the exception of the walls and HALLIE being hacked, it's entirely possible they were evacuated while we were knocked out."

"Oh, right."

Pat wasn't sure if Roy fully believed this, but he didn't raise much of a fuss.

And so, in silence, they all walked towards the average-sized brickhouse that lay nearer inland, right in front of a massive yellow wall. The door was unlocked, and they all entered it, closing out the cold. The warmth felt odd after all the threats and the oppressing atmosphere, but it was not unwelcome.

Small was the term for it, a small sitting room that could, at best, handle maybe five people at a time on battered looking green couches, and a kitchen that would have been great for maybe a nuclear family, but not this.

The stairs were creaky, and Pat at several points feared that each step would be the last one to bring the whole thing crashing down, but no fear. The first floor was essentially a landing with five doors roughly slammed into place. "Come on, Barty." said Sam, wearily. "Let's get to bed." Putting their arm around him, he led Barty forward. "Goodnight, all of you."

"Y-You'd better come up with something!" Barty said, but if this was meant as a threat or as encouragement, both fell flat. The door slammed shut.

"Right, well, that's me." Martin held out a hand, and Pat shook it. "Nice to meet you, Pat. Wish it was in far better circumstances, but, still."

"T-Thanks." Pat suddenly felt very shy and tired.

Martin sighed. "We'll all be able to think clearer tomorrow, I hope."

Nadia smirked. "You think so, big guy? ...Well, it's a nice thought, isn't it?" She raised a hand. "Later."

"Y-Y-Yeah." Maria sniffed. "Hopefully we can s-s-save HALLIE as well." No one decided to argue that, seeing as it would be a waste of time.

Judy didn't even bother with saying goodnight, she just stormed into the room, closed the door and, judging by the creaking of the floorboards and the sound of springs, sat down upon a bed facing the door.

As the other three departed, Laura offered a weary look to Pat, as if to say 'Could be a lot better'.

The next floor was very much the same. Five doors, a small landing and little else.

"Well, unless one of you decides to show their inner psychopath, I'll be seeing you in the morning!" Robert took Theresa's hand firmly, contradicting his own jokey tone in the process, and walked to their room. She barely managed to wave before they were inside and the door was shut.

"Sorry. Pat, um, hope you have a good night." Al offered a weary smile, before turning to his own room. William, by far the most cheerful out of all of them, offered a wink as his parting gift.

"Sleep well, Jean!"

"Ha. I wish." In many respects, it would have been better if Jean had slammed her door. At least then there would have been an understanding of how she was feeling.

"Right, this is my stop, darling. Aisha, can you put Roy up, if you can? There's a spare room on the top floor, it's pretty rundown but it'll do for now."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Thank you!" Roy said, swaying slightly on his feet.

"No prob. Get some sleep. Same goes for you too, Pat. Got to be ready and willing for tomorrow." Laura offered a grand-dame like wave, before exiting the door with all the pomp and circumstance befitting one of her talent.

"Next one is yours." Aisha remarked to Pat, who merely nodded.

There wasn't much to say.

On the third floor, Wayne stomped off without even so much as a goodbye. Aisha rolled her eyes. "Typical." As Chelsea, Taylor and Jamie said their goodnights and went to their room, she pointed Pat to the door in the middle. "That's yours! It's not quite as finished as we would have liked it to be, but, you know-" She smiled weakly. "You can manage, I hope?"

Pat looked at Aisha, then the slightly blistered door, and then to Roy. Truth be told, they weren't sure, not at all. Everything had gone so bizarre and odd and unreal that managing had not really entered their mind.

But looking at one of their students face, they resolved to manage it. They offered what they hoped was a far more energetic smile than they had previously offered. "Of course. ...I wonder if HALLIE put my luggage here." They shrugged. "Ah, I'll work it out."

"Good night, Mx." Roy went to remove the coat. But Pat waved it off.

"It's fine, you can give it back to me tomorrow, if you want."

"Oh...Well...okay." Roy yawned. "Thank you. Night."

"Goodnight." Pat said, and watched as Roy followed Aisha and Peter up the stairs to the last, and smallest, floor. Peter stopped, looked at them and considered.

"Yer pretty logical." He paused. "Interesting to see what ye'll do on a more level playing field."

And then he followed them up.

Pat had no idea what that meant, and quite frankly, they were too tired to work it out. Pat closed the door with a long, slow sigh.

With that sigh, most of the strength they had managed to cling to, be it from the presence of the other staff members or just out of sheer willingness to not let either of the robots get to them, flowed out. Their legs buckled, and they slowly slid down, back against the door, and looked blankly around their room. Their home for...for however long they were alive (Don't think about that, don't think about that!) and well here at Prosperity.

It was a small room, no larger than one of the bathrooms at a typical comprehensive school. The oddly battered looking paint on the walls was light beige, running until it hit varnished skirting boards and one solitary windowsill. The carpet was a dark green, in better shape than the walls to say the least.

Their attention turned to the bed (Their bed, they had to remind themselves). It looked fine, a single bed with clean white linen, a light blue quilt and comfortable looking pillows. There was a gap between bed and floor, enough that maybe they could wriggle underneath it, given the chance.

The one remaining light source, save for the bulb hanging above, was from a small cabinet-like room, small and secure. Judging from the grey lighting and the tiled floor, a bathroom of some sorts.

And there was their luggage.

With the ennui rapidly getting to them, and the events of the day coming crashing down, Pat ignored it all together. Instead, they merely dragged themselves towards the bed, fell atop the covers, and just lay there.

Sleep was a long time coming, and even when it did come, it was a fitful sleep, filled with strange mechanical creatures, smiles that were not quite smiles, bodies in so many varieties of disarray and dismemberment and the gleeful, cackling voice of Mr Punch over all of it.

"ROLL UP! ROLL UP! IT'S TIME TO START!"

KILLING GAME: START
PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 20
CONTINUE?
Y/N

And that concludes the Prologue! This should hopefully show what HALLIE's purpose is going to be in the fanfiction for the moment, though obviously as things get along. This is the awkward chapter on my part, as I've got to get across a lot of exposition that I imagine most of you know about, but the characters don't. I hope I made it, at the very least, entertaining.

Also, I figured I should note my inspirations of the mascot characters this time around. Mr Punch is based off of the main character of the oft-repeated Punch and Judy puppet show, it's fairly British so I felt it suited a UK based killing game in the same way that Monokuma is made to be a twisted parody of a popular Japanese icon. The inspiration for Monoline is far less certain, the name and look comes from the character Madeline, a ragdoll in the popular British show Bagpuss, but in general it's more based around the stop motion shows that we got in the sixties to eighties. So, hope that maybe threw a little light on the situation. Or you just think I'm talking too much. XD. Never mind!

Thank you for reading, and I will see you next time!