This is my spirit animal version of Rise who detests ugly people and wants to punish them as much as I do. Please, if you don't like this idea, simply turn away and don't read this.
My name is Rise Kujikawa. You probably know me more as "Risette", though. You know…that so-called "psycho idol" who went and "ruined her life"? Yeah, that's the dumb spin your shitty media has been putting onto this. Anyway, this is a…difficult thing. I never expected I would need to write something like this. I wonder if this will even matter. Well, it's not like it will make things much worse, I guess.
First of all, I want to ask something. Make it a final request. When this gets read out, I want only good-looking people to be present. Keep ugly people away from this. I don't want a single thing to do with them. Yes, I'm aware of the cheek of me requesting this. But you can all go fuck yourselves. Just do this, for me. One final wish from someone who won't be in this world much longer.
I want to start by saying that I don't regret what I did. No, not one single bit. Not a shred—I'm only happy. I'm happy thinking about the scum I eradicated from this planet. Do you know how awful it felt? To just think of them, out there, sucking me and my career dry? They're parasites who attach themselves to me and my music to feel better. I'm better than they are—I'm physically superior in every conceivable away.
I'm sure you're all familiar with how true that is. I don't exactly keep my body hidden, do I? My perfectly formed body, with my amazing skin, my beautiful face—every inch of me is physical perfection. You've all spent years of your lives admiring me and my perfect physical form. Drooling over it, longing for it, admiring over it, and all for what? To what end? For you to just abandon me? I helped you all. I did you all a favour. This is my ultimatum. And I expect at least some understanding. Some support.
All you ever talk about is killing innocent people. "Innocent"? Since when was anyone I killed "innocent"? You have to understand. You must know the damage that those parasites do to me, and continue to do every goddamn day. I couldn't take it anymore. Those faceless, useless, physically inferior, ugly gross fucking leeches. Every one of them is a fucking useless piece of flesh. Pathetic cunts wasting away inside their meat shells. I did this world a favor. And trust me, one of these days, you will all understand that. It will become fucking obvious how the human race cannot go on like this. Someone—someone—has to have the gull to take action. Someone needs to get rid of those putrid fucks who defile what it means to be a living, breathing human being.
Maybe it's harsh, but that's just how it is. This isn't narcissism, nor am I crazy.
…
By this point, you're probably wondering how all of this happened? Well, that's a very long story. But getting into this world of glimmer and lights at such a young age, I've come to learn how very important it is to look good. It's one of the only things that matters. You all know this, as well as I do. You know how much of our lives is spent fixated on the way we look. Maybe that's where it started for me? To be frank, I don't even know. All I can tell you is that as I grew up, I had to put on a smile while trying my hardest to care. After a while, it became easier not to bother—inside of me something just broke. I began to care too much, and before long my mind just cracked open. I could understand the universal truth that was always there, in front of me:
"Being pretty is the only thing that matters"
Once that thought got into my head, I knew I had begun to see the world in its proper light. I was Risette—I was known for my appearance. Wanted for it. But the average, commonfolk, the people I was wanted by, they mingled out there like vermin...I couldn't stand the thought. Something inside of me began to feel this burning disgust…The very thought that lesser people had control over me, that they would treat me like an animal at a zoo…It felt suffocating at first. I couldn't grasp how none of you could understand. You all just…went through your lives, while allowing those below you to manipulate you, and suck you all dry. I wanted to say something. I kept wanting to speak up, and voice myself, but it was always impossible. No one would listen, and I'd be ostracised. I was never dumb enough nor insane enough to not know how atypical my thoughts were. Atypical by the standards of a society that has brainwashed all of you into not caring.
Over the years, I began to become lonely, and isolated. No one cared—and despite my fame, and despite my friends I had no one I could actually turn to. No one who understood me.
At that time, I realised something had to be done. I knew I couldn't sit on my goddamn ass forever and expect my friend to take care of things for me. If I wanted the world to change, I needed to put my foot down. I needed to bring about that change for myself. That was when I decided to formulate a plan…and I didn't want it to be small, either. It was going to be massive—it was going to be something that would claw itself into the psyche of every Japanese person; of every citizen of Earth.
It was an entire year in the making. Prepping for it all…it wasn't easy. But I kept myself going through it all mainly by the anticipation. Knowing what I had planned meant I wasn't suffocating. I could breath. I had a goal—I had something to work towards. During the year, I did my best to revitalise my career. I brought myself out of the slumps, and up into the world of glamour. It was my big comeback—I had a new chance, and I took it. I raised back, from the bottom, up to the top. At the same time, I began to get close to some of my fans. I needed people—individuals who were braindead and desperate. Sick…broken minded fucks who would do whatever I say, no matter what.
Fortunately, finding such people proved easy. Although getting them to agree to what I wanted out of them was something else entirely. In the end though, some of them were desperate enough. All I had to do with twist them right around my finger, and manipulate their broken addiction to my little ol' sexy self.
The next thing I needed were firearms. Not the easiest thing to acquire, this being Japan and all, but I found it more difficult trying to train myself to use them. It wasn't easy—but I eventually got the hang of it.
During the final few months leading to that day, I began to work on a new song. One that was to be my magnum opus. I'm sure you're all familiar with that song…After all, it was blaring out during the incident. Hah. It's ironic how popular it's become now, right? I hear that it's been banned from play on TV and radio, but that doesn't stop people. It's out there, and people are listening to it. Of course, when I first showed the song to my people, they were nervous about it. But they gave it the go ahead anyway. It's not like it's out of line for the kinds of songs I've written before. Or any that are typically popular these days.
Anyway, on that day, I was both nervous and excited. When I got onto stage, I noticed how large the crowd was—a crowd that was swimming with people of all kinds. Most of them were physically inferior scum…and within only a few short moments, a lot of them would be dead.
"With the performance of her new song, welcome Risette, with Uglies Drop Down!"
The lights lowered on me, and I was illuminated to the audience. Garbed up, as I was, in that outfit: A black leather jacket with, red short shorts, a dark red belt with some ammo attached. On my back were several guns, along with some at my thigh. In my hands, I was holding a large assault rifle. Of course, I was the only one who knew it was real. I had my back on the crowd, standing with a swayed hip.
Ugliness, endless, despair, fear no more…
Beauty, frightened, no gain, feel so pained…
Controlled, helpless, ultimate, dreadful fate…
Powerless, lifeless, with no breath, falling down…
I turn around, and with my gun in hand, begin to skip and parade across the stage.
Go deep down to physical, absolutely miserable,
Keep under the spell, or dirty like enslavement
Began to lose patience, no longer complacent
As the chorus kicks in, backup dancers are illuminated—They were all in "ugly makeup", and meant to represent archetypical depictions of ugly people.
Put a bullet through your head pump ya till you're dead!
I began to pretend to shoot my gun, while I danced, and moved across the stage, like some babe-with-a-gun out of an action movie. I couldn't tell too well, focusing on performing and all, but I think at this point a lot of the crowd just got...confused. I could hear the wild cheering die down. People felt weirded out by my strange performance, I'm sure. It isn't exactly what you expect from "Risette" after all.
Kill all uglies!
Kill the grubbies!
Blood runs, meet my guns!
Annihilation!
This isn't a lie, so just go die!
Die die die!
At that point I noticeably stop singing. At least, that's how it felt to me. I had begun screaming and shouting. I was screaming every word as though it would be my last.
Ain't a psycho, ain't no nazi!
Ain't narcissistic, I'm no crazy!
Doing a favor, I'm the ugger eraser!
Here comes the new mender!
And that was when it happened—that was when I made my first ever kill.
I still remember the feeling. It just…happened. I had planned to do it at that moment in the song, but when it actually got to that point, my instincts took over. I just did it, like I was on autopilot. I raised turned to the backup dancers, aimed my gun at one of the more ugly ones (ugly in reality, not because of their makeup), and shot them right through the head. Afterwards I just stood in shock for a moment. Killing someone felt so…massive. And yet, inside of me, there was this strange empty feeling where I knew that my guilt should be. There was no sickly feeling of "this is wrong". Nothing like that.
In a way that was scary—it terrified me how little these…creatures felt like living beings to me. But on the other, it was a relief. I was glad I hadn't gotten this far, only to fall at this hurdle.
…
At that point, everyone, I guess, still thought this was part of the act. The other backup dancers were confused, by the cheering from the crowd was still as loud as before.
…Uglies Go Bang Bang…
I grit my teeth—I can feel my bloodlust rise. Now that I knew I could kill these things with ease, I had nothing to worry about. I aimed my gun at another backup dancer with the hopes of hitting them, but I miss—the bullets go stray, and hit one of the other dancers instead. At that point, something inside me snapped.
"G…Gaaaaaaaugh!"
I yelled out, before unleashing a storm of bullets across the stage, gunning down all the backup dancers in the process. As they laid there on the stage, some dead, and others mortally wounded, I began to shake—the feeling of pumping uglies full of bullets was…euphoric. It felt so amazing…to finally break out of my shell, after all those years…
Uglies…Go…
The crowd is still confused. They think it's part of the act still. I mean, why wouldn't they? It all fits with the aesthetic of the song, although I think everyone is confused further by how out of style it is for me. The confusion gave me enough to be able to reload the rifle. But obviously some people were starting to sense there wasn't something quite right going on. It didn't take long before those peoples thoughts were confirmed.
BANG…BANG…!
I turned to the crowd and looked for a particularly large conglomerate of ugly looking people. I found one fairly quickly, aimed my gun at them, and began spraying them with bullets. At that point, the crowd begins to get the message—this isn't an act. Well, some people still seemed confused, but this was when the genuine panic and chaos began to set in.
"DIE UGLIES, DIE!"
I yell out as I continue to aim at areas of the crowd with people who look visually off-putting. Too large, too misshapen—whatever is physically sickening to me on sight and instinct alone. After a mere few seconds, it becomes apparent to everyone how real this is—that their precious Risette is killing them. That I'm purging their sorry fucking existences. Chaos erupts, and that chaos spirals out of control very quickly. People begun panicking, and began to make a mad break in the direction away from the stage—
At that point, I sensed the stage being rushed by several people. I turned to my left and saw some kind of security guard. They were kind of slow on the reaction, but I supposed that was because they thought this had been part of the act as well. Either way, as soon as I see him, I don't hesitate. I gun him down, then immediately spin around, and take out a guard who is rushing the stage from my right.
After that, I leap off the stage and begin shooting at the crowds from behind the railing, in the area cornered off right beneath the stage. I begin to cackle as I fire wildly into the crowd—
"Run run, as fast as you can, you uggo fucks!"
I was lost in my insanity—I wanted them all to die. All the fucking uglies—all of them.
At that point, more guards from different locations tried firing onto me again. Luckily, thanks to the chaos of the crowd, they seemed hesitate to fire aimlessly at me. I take out the pistol at my thigh, and gun down the guards—I unload three rounds into on of their chests.
After dealing with that, I began to advance in on the crowd. Getting nearer to them would make anyone else who wanted to stop me more hesitant to just fire at me. Meanwhile, I continued to shoot at any ugly people I could—After a while, I ran out of ammo for the rifle, and threw it to the ground. I took out a loaded shotgun from my back. Within a split second, I had aimed it a fleeing overweight mother's back and fired. She fell to the ground, dropping her child in the process.
The ugly cunts running around like terrified chickens was creating a sense of disorientation. Nevertheless, I had been able to keep my guard up, and my awareness heightened. I kept aiming my gun at anyone I can—anyone who caught my eye as being physically worthless individuals, and didn't hesitate. A man with his back turned on me tried to sprint away, but I unloaded into his back. A teenage guy right next to me brushed by me, or tried to, at least. I instead hit him with the buck of my gun, and he fell down to the ground. He tried to scurry away on his rear, but it's no good. I quickly aimed at his head, and blew his brains out.
"Fucking cunt," I bluntly state, while doing it.
That bastard was hideous…I still remember that. His large nose was too big for his face, his pathetic figure was just putridly wrong on every level, and that goddamn crocked structure of his face…How dare he come to my show and try and misappropriate me and myself for his own needs? How dare he try and gain happiness through me?
…
I tried to get into a good vantage point, moving back a little to the edge of the crowds. I didn't want to end up trampled or shoved around. Luckily I had the upper hand though. Most of the chaos was moving away from me. Naturally, after all—I had just leapt off the stage, and begun advancing in. No one was suicidal enough to try and run in my direction, everyone was running in the opposite way, but the chaotic flow of people was causing a gridlock. That was allowing me the advantage of a good advance point, to move in on.
"Fucking die…!"
I continued to fire into the crowd at anyone I can notice. At the same time, I advanced on the crowd, keeping a steady pace with the gridlocked people.
"W-Why is she doing this…?!"
"Fucking crazy bitch, oh my god…!"
The screams and loud panicked voices blended into a hailstorm of sound. Male voices, female voices, old, young…
"Get out of here, run!"
"S-Shit! Shit shit, we need to run…!"
"Mindy! Where's my Mindy?!"
At the tail end of the chaos was a young girl—couldn't have been any older than 13, although I'd guess close to 11 or 12—who was on the ground. She was wearing one of my shirts—a shirt that has an image of me and lyrics to my song on it. She looked awful, with crocked teeth aligned by braces, and a cranium too large for itself, which caused her eye sockets to appear unnatural. She looked like some sort of genetic anomaly. Someone was trying to help her. A pretty young woman, strikingly good-looking from appearance alone, was attempting to pick her up.
"W-Where are your parents—"
She didn't get the chance to finish the sentence. I had already aimed the gun at the girl and shot her. The woman seemed to not register reality for a moment—her eyes widened, and she just stared into space, as the blood of the goblin she was trying to help splattered all over her. By the time she turned to me, I had already advanced in on her. She tried to hurriedly get up onto her feet and run away, but just tripped over her own feet.
"F-Fuck…!"
As I advantaged in on the woman, I continued to also shoot at more people with my pistol—several who attempt to rush me don't stand a chance. I just shoot them clean through the skulls.
"You fucking psychopath…!"
As I towered over the woman on the ground, I look down at her with contempt. That ugly sympathising bitch…she was tainted.
"P-Please! Oh, please god, no, let me go…!"
I aimed my firearm at her head.
"Helping her was a mistake," I stated, "promise me you won't help any more ugly cunts, and I'll spare you."
The woman was shaking—she seemed terrified, and unable to speak. Tears leaked from her eyes, causing her make up to start running.
"N-Nng-…"
She frantically nodded her head.
"…Good."
I lower my gun, and walk right past her. I could hear her loud, distraught sobbing.
See? Aren't I merciful? I gave that girl the opportunity to live—to live as a reawakened woman. I had hoped this would drill into her thick skull that she should think before trying to sympathise with ugly cunts…
…
As I continued the massacre, I began to lose myself in the moment. I felt so powerful, so…unstoppable.
I was running out of ammo, though. Fortunately, I had planned for this—this is where those certain fans I seduced into being my helpers came into play. Before the festival, I had given my helpers instructions: they were to locate themselves at certain points in the crowd, holding bags that contained firearms, and ammo. I helped them sneak them into the festival venue of course. Not an easy task, but either way…
Through the chaos, I could see one such helper. He seemed to be approaching me—
"R-Risette! Risette this is—"
I simply aim at it him with my shotgun, and shoot him away. That gross, unhinged simp…that guy who I had promised oh so 'sincerely' to love and cherish should he help me with this one task; he meant fuck all to me. I don't care what he had been about to say. I don't care if we was going to tell me to stop, if he thought I was on his side, why he thought it was a good idea to run up on me like that…either way, trusting me was his mistake. The fucking braindead bastard.
After I had killed him, I hurriedly threw the shotgun to the ground, opened the bag he was carrying, then pulled out the loaded assault rifle. I slung the bag over my shoulder, carrying it with me, and stood up. It was just in time to see some guards trying to aim at me—
I just barely manged to gun them down in time, but somehow, I was able to hold out. I had been training all year, and my skills with firearms had gotten fairly good. I suppose it helped, as well, that all this chaos was throwing thing out of whack. I was feeling strangely confident, and like an unstoppable tank—that confidence, and utter faith in what I believed to be right was also probably helping a great amount.
I just had to survive. I had to. I had to kill as many of these ugly cunts as I could. I had to rid the world of their filth.
"You gross fucks have all USED ME! USED and ABUSED me to me to feel better about your MISERABLE LITTLE LIVES! Well, guess what?! I fucking hate you all! DIE YOU UGGO FUCKHEADS! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIIIIIIIEEEEE!"
I continued advancing in, while spraying with my gun at any ugly people I saw.
There was ugly woman on the ground, trying to desperately drag her wounded friend. I shot her, and her friend—right nearby was an mother, who was holding onto her as equally ugly daughter for dear life. She seemed frozen in fear—shaking, and holding her.
"P-Please! I'm begging you, have mercy…!" she cried out at me—her voice recked of emotional devastation. " S-She only has a few years left, a-and she's a fan of yours, a-and she…s-she's always wanted to just see you once before she—"
I interjected by charging up to her, and knocking her away. The mother got tosses back, away from her daughter, who is knocked onto her rear.
"N-No! No no, please! D-Don't-!"
I ignored the mother's pleading. This…hideous little fuck with her hideous facial deformities ground makes me feel so sick, that I felt the need to send her off with a special message.
"You were a mistake. As was your putrid admiration for me."
With that, I placed the barrel of the gun to her deformed little mouth, and fired.
"N-No! NOOOO!"
From somewhere to my left, the mother yelled and sobs.
"YOU MONSTER…! Why, Risette?! WHY?!"
I shake my head, and simply smirk.
"Shut up. This is what your goblin daughter deserved."
At that point, I ended up lowering my guard a little much—I guess what I had just done was the last kick in the teeth for some people—several members of the crowd, begin to rush me, and in the moment I had been too lax to properly notice. Several guys manage to surround me, and get a hit in on me. I go falling to the ground.
"S-Shit…!" Not there's no reason to do that okay.
One guy gets on top of me, and tries yanking my firearm out of my hands.
"You psycho!" he yells at me.
At the same time, more people seemed to be running in to help subdue me. I realised at that point, that I had to act fast, or I was as good as done for.
"You just gonna shoot a goddamn kid in the face?!"
"Hey, everyone, come and pile her! We need to overpower this crazy bitch!"
Powered in party by my growing venom and determination, I was able to gain the upper hand—I was able to keep control of my rifle, and used the end of it to bash at the guy's head. After a bit more struggling, I was able to twist the barrle towards him, and pull the trigger. One round goes in his chest, and the other his shoulder—it was enough to allow me to push him off me completely.
I also overpower the others, and manage to struggle free—I quickly shoot the first guy in the head, then pick myself up, and walk backwards while spraying at them with bullets.
"F-Fucking assholes!" I had spit at them.
I ran out of ammo at that point, and grit my teeth. I turned, and tried to reload my gun, but it was too late. Some officers were closing in on me—
"Shit!"
I threw the rifle to the ground, and pulled out my pistol—I fired one shot at an officer which hit his head.
"Yes!"
My victory had been short lived. That was the last bullet in the gun—I had no choice but to try and throw the cops off by running through the still chaotic crowds. I had left the rifle on the ground, not having had enough time to pick it up, though. All I had left was my pistol, at least for the time being.
I reloaded the thing as quickly as I could—
I knew at that point that I had to save my ammo for when it really mattered. So I kept my guard up, and my eye out, for any signs of people who were an actual threat.
After taking down a few more officers, I suddenly notice an abandoned bag on the ground. I wasn't sure if it was one of the bags left for me by my 'helpers', but I couldn't not take the risk. I launched towards it, and picked it up, before continuing to run in no direction in particular. While running, I unzipped the bag, and reached inside—
"Y-Yes…! Thank you, God!"
There was another loaded gun—I took it out, and began to relax a little bit. Now having some more wiggle room, I began opening fire on the fleeing people again.
"Fucking die! DIE! DIE! DIEEEEEE!"
I was so angry—so determined—so…so utterly broken by desire of eradication. I just wanted all ugly people to die and burn. I wanted them to die, in misery and pain. I wanted to give them the bleakest send-off possible.
"Ha HA HA HA HA!"
I laugh manically while bullets hit people, and cause them to fall to the ground. Some people die instantly, others lay on the ground dying, some try and drag themselves to safety…After I run out of ammo, I quickly reload, and just continue my killing spree.
I kill women, men, kids…anyone who doesn't look "right" to me. I don't show mercy—I make motherless children, childrenless mothers…whatever I can.
"S-Stop this crazy bitch!"
"Drop your weapon, now!
An assault of guards swarmed the venue—I tried to hold them off.
"Fuck you, piggies! You're all dead!"
But in doing so, I let my guard down—I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, and failed to notice that someone I had shot, who lay on the ground, had pulled a gun out from a hidden holster. It wasn't until I felt the hot pain in my arm, that I realised I had been shot. I turned to see the guy weakly aiming his gun at me—
"G-…Gaaaugh!"
I shoot him through the skull—but it's too late. The pain in my arm became too much, and I instinctively let go of my gun.
"S-Shit…!"
I go to try and pick it up, but it was too late. It had been all that was needed for guards to close in on me. They were too close—
"PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" one of the guards practically screams at me, "RIGHT NOW!"
At that point, I knew it was over. That if I moved a single muscle out of line, I'd end up with a bullet in my head. I could do nothing but grit my teeth, and let it go. I tried to focus on the positive—on the amount of damage I had managed to do. I looked over the scene of carnage—the bodies, and the blood, and all of the injured people crawling around, and gave myself a mental nod. I slowly raised my hands to the back of my head, and the guards subdued me.
It was over. I had done my part—as much as I possibly could.
…
And that's it. That's what happened on that fateful day during the music festival.
I bet you're wondering one thing…"Do you regret doing it?".
To that, the answer is a resounding no. Why would I possibly regret this? I have no regrets for what I did. My only regret…was being unable to convince anyone it was for the greater good. I'm sure you remember the hailstorm that was raised by the events at the festival.
Of course, I didn't see most of it personally. But I heard—I was interviewed on TV, as a matter of fact. And I made it clear—I didn't try and hide anything anymore. I made it clear that I did it, and that I don't feel the least bit sorry.
Because if I had said I did, it would have been a lie.
In any case, there are still those who supported me. I was getting sent correspondence all the time while in my cell. It was rather comforting, knowing some people actually got something out of my message…to know what I did was having an impact. Of course, most people simply thought I was crazy. I was…as they say, "cancelled" by most—my songs apparently have been all but pulled from public broadcast. Not that I care. Those damn fools have only helped me, do they realise? Now my legacy isn't false inspiration…now it isn't fun music, and entertainment for all. It's my message of ugly eradication. It's what I think of uglies—To have that be what I'm known for isn't a bad thing. Non the contrary, it's perfect.
…At least, it would be perfect. Although I was always unafraid to die for this cause of mine…I cannot feel happy knowing that my execution has been decided based on a sham premise. If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have rather gotten killed on that day. At least then I'd have gone out as a hero…
I was so sure…I was so sure that someone like me would not be sent to her death. I'm a celebrity, for pity's sake, and a good-looking woman at that. Look at me—this natural beauty cannot, and should not be sent to death row. As I was standing in that courtroom, I was so confident…so very confident, that the thought of it hadn't even occurred to me as a possibility. I made the point of looking especially good for the trial that day. I was wearing the type of clothes I was typically known for.
"It's clear that Kujikawa-san was not only in control of her actions", argued the prosecutor, "but that she is aware of the gravity of the crimes she committed. There is no grounds for a plea of insanity."
I didn't want an insanity plea, but it had all but been blown to pieces at the hearing, anyway. This idea that I was acting 'in control'…it was brought up and empathised to the nth degree.
Of course, I never tried to deny my guilt—nor did I hide how unguilty I felt. I made it as clear as possible that the whole thing was something I do not regret. That those hideous fucks had to go. That I was better than them. I was so sure that it didn't matter—that I would get a slap on the wrist, and be given the lightest possible sentence.
"This girl is aged 10," the prosecutor said, during my cross-examination, "You put a gun to her head, while her mother begged you to stop, and pulled the trigger."
I sit in the box, while playing casually with my hair.
"…Can you not show me pictures of goblins?" I ask, casually.
"That girl was a victim of Rett syndrome, hence her facial deformities," the prosecutor continues, "doctors determined she only has a few years to live. One of her wishes, before dying, was to meet you."
I look at the prosecutor, and shrug my shoulders.
"You say that like I'm supposed to see it as a good thing."
Seriously, the idea just makes me puke. That's all this is-it's them shoving their bullshit "ugly love" down my fucking throat. I hate it. I hate it all.
The murmurs of the gallery, and the looks on everyone's faces, made it obvious how sickened everyone was. I didn't understand why.
…
After my cross-examination, my own lawyer called a witness to the stand—it was that pretty girl. The one I had let go on that day. Apparently, her name is Chloe.
"…I-I…I saw her…shoot a kid…"
Chloe can't seem to hold herself together as she gives her account.
"S-She just…shot her…" she says, while breaking down. "An innocent little girl…for no reason…"
"Is it not true that she spared your life, however?" asks my defence lawyer.
"S-She did, but…"
"Please tell us exactly what happened in that moment."
"W-Well, s-she…m-made me agree to not help…u-ugly people again…" Choe tearfully explains, "I-I was scared for my life, so I just nodded…"
"And she kept her word, and didn't hurt you?"
"W-Well, yes, that's true…"
I began to curse letting her go—In should've shot the ugly tainted idiot there and then.
"Your Honor, if I may," interjected the prosecutor, "the defense's intention to paint the defendant as somehow…moral with this line of questioning is utterly absurd."
"That was not our intention, counsel," my lawyer replied, "I am simply asking the witness what she experienced."
"W-What I experienced was that monster murdering an innocent girl!" Chloe yelled out, "So what if she spared my life?! I don't want this goddamn life if I only have it because I was, what, pretty enough to you…?!"
"W-Witness, please control your—"
Choe hit her fist against the top of the witness box. She seemed angry, to say the least.
"I can't stop thinking about her! T-That girl…t-that girl I couldn't save…! She died, but you just let me live! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?!"
Her words were obviously aimed at me specifically. For that reason, I felt personally under attack. Perhaps that's why I up and said what I said…
"Oh shut up!" I had yelled back to Chloe, "you know what? You wish I had killed you? Well so do I! You fucking ugly tainted skank! I should never had spared you in first place!"
My lawyer didn't seem pleased with me—he turned on me, and scowled.
Even I had to admit that that outburst was a mistake—but it had just slipped out. Even so…by the time that Chloe's cross-examination had come to a close, the trial had reached its conclusion. The jury was sent to contemplate their verdict—and I awaited the inevitable. Naturally, the jury reached a unanimous verdict of guilty, for the long laundry list of first-degree murder counts. As the victims individual names were read out, I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to soak it all in.
This was my handiwork. It was my legacy—I had removed these fuckers and stopped them infesting this planet.
…
After the verdict, the judge gave his opinion, and his sentencing. I had been so sure it wouldn't be death…
"Many people look up to you", the judge had said. "The thought that they see you and take your opinions to heart is extremely worrying."
I simply shook my head. Worrying? No, it was glorious. If this could help other beautiful girls to come to the same conclusion as me, then…
"Your actions were performed out of heinous hatred, vile self-centred, arrogant narcissism."
"Hmph."
I fold my arms, and scoff.
"You don't show a shred of remorse—not a drop of semblance of care to the lives you tore apart for no reason than your deluded sense of superiority."
"Deluded…sense of superiority…?" I repeat back at him.
I shake my head. I stand up from my chair.
"With due respect…Your Honour, it'd not DELUDED. I AM superior. I'm damn well superior to all of the worthless gutter trash cattle that I slaughtered…!"
My lawyer begins nudging at my arm—I turn to him, and he shakes his head at me. I suppose he wants me to shut up.
"…Gangh…"
I fall silent, and simply sit down again.
"This trial is a joke," I say, "as if you can possibly understand what it's like to be someone as hot as me. You lot have no clue."
"Kujikawa-san, your opinions…they are affecting the mind of your impressionable fanbase."
He said that like I'm supposed to give a flying fuck.
As if I care if I mentally damage some insecure ugly cunts with what I did. In my mind that's nothing but a GOOD thing.
"Several reported attempted suicides related to what you did have already been reported," the judge continues, "one young girl reportedly told her parents she wanted to kill herself."
He begins reading…
"Quote: Because Risette would want me to, because I'm not pretty, or skinny, and I'm just going to be a waste. It is what Risette said."
Apparently, they weren't revealing the identities of these girls for 'privacy' concerns. Although I had to admit, the thought that my actions were having an effect on people just brought a smile to my lips. I think the judge must have noticed, judging from his reaction.
"There is no doubt in mind that you deserve no sympathy from this court. Your status as a public figure has been taken into account, however…the extraordinary heinous nature of your actions, and continued actions, cannot be overlooked. Under this state's law, capital punishment is the only fitting sentence."
I wasn't sure if I had heard him right. Had he actually just sentenced me to execution?
"What?"
"Your influence over the minds of impressible girls and boys is far too—"
"Capital punishment?!"
I couldn't control myself—this couldn't be. There had to be some kind of mistake.
"You're honestly going to sentence me to death?! ME?!" I yelled, "Someone like me—someone as gorgeous as me?! You're going to rob the world of my beauty?!"
A stiff silence had filled the courtroom after my outburst. Apparently, no one knew what to say. So I simply continued.
"I DID YOU ALL A FAVOR! I got rid of ugly vermin! You should be thanking me, not executing me!"
"R-Rise, please, this isn't going to help—"
I ignored my lawyer—I can't help it. The dam of my mind had burst, and the water was rushing out.
"This is all the media's fucking fault! You're all trying to paint me as a bad guy! You have been, for years!"
I launch towards the jury box, only to be restrained by the bailiffs.
"Oh, you're all fucking fine with treating me like a sex object! You've all masturbated over photos of me on the internet! But god-fucking-forbid I bite back!"
"This is enough!" the judge commands, "this had nothing to do with you 'fighting back', Kujikawa-san."
I turn to the judge, and growl at him.
"The people you killed did nothing wrong. They only wanted to see a music festival."
"All ugly people are the same!" I yelled, "they all contribute to the fucking problem! It's all fucking institutionalised! You treat beautiful people like shit, like animals, then—"
"Bailiffs, get this woman out of my courtroom!"
Everyone was looking at me like I was mad. Like I had lost it—but no…no, it was everyone else. They didn't understand. They had no idea what drove me to do what I did that day. They have no. Idea.
"BASTARDS! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES! IS THIS HOW BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE ARE TREATED BY SOCIETY?! YOU JUST KILL THEM WHEN THEY HAVE THE FUCKING BALLS TO BITE BACK?!"
I continued to yell as loudly as I could as I was escorted out.
"DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME! OTHER PEOPLE OUT THERE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS! THEY FUCKING UNDERSTAND! AND GUESS WHAT? THEY'RE STILL OUT THERE, LOOKING UP TO ME, WILLING TO KILL FOR ME! SO GOOD-FUCKING-LUCK UGLIES! GOOD LUCK BEING SCARED SHITLESS THAT YOU'RE NEXT—!"
...
And that's it.
That is the whole truth…of everything that has happened to me. That is my story.
As I sit here in the darkness of my cell, writing this, I keep forgetting that my death is just around the corner. It's a rather scary thought. But more than a personal fear, I feel worried for the world—worried that it's being robbed of me.
I truly wanted to make an impact…and you know what, I think I have. Maybe most still consider me crazy, but there are always those that can be influenced. Who can be persuaded. Having had the time to contemplate my actions, I don't regret what I've done. But maybe I could have gone about things in a different way. Perhaps this massacre was too much—maybe I could have tried to use my career and my influence to alter the minds of the masses. But after all is said and done, this outcome…is far from bad.
Facing my death really is terrifying. I don't want to go…I don't want to leave, especially while the world is as backwards as it is. Somehow I had been hoping for my massacre to…change something. I don't know what, but just something.
Maybe it will, though…sometime in the future. I suppose I can't expect to see change just happen right away. One day, in the future, this world will hopefully wake up…
People will understand that pretty people have the right to hurt those ugly scum however we damn well want. They'll begin to understand that beauties and uglies can never work together—that they should be separated entirely from each other.
One day…in the future, that will be sure to happen…
Anyway, that's about it. I don't want to stop writing, to be honest. I know the moment I stop is the moment when I submit myself to the fact that I have nowhere else to turn to. However I can't continue forever…I have nothing more to say.
This is my legacy. This is what I choose to exit this world as; as Risette, the "psycho idol" who murdered countless people, and destroyed countless lives. That legacy is mine—and while it may not be the most glamorous of legacies, it is true to me. It's true to everything I am as an idol, as a girl, and as "Risette".
The only thing that frightens me is him. Facing him again.
I haven't seen any of them since that day. I don't know if it's because I can't face them, or…if it's something else. Something like shame. Some sort of understanding that none of them could possibly support me after what I did.
But I don't want to exist this world without saying goodbye to them. I just worry about what Senpai will say—I worry that he won't understand my position. And, in a way…I'm also worried that he might end up blaming himself.
I'm not so deluded; I know that such a thing would eat away at Senpai's heart. In a way, that sickens me…but with him of all people, I just can't bring myself to discard it. I hate his goody-goody heart of gold, but…
Well, honestly, I have no idea. I don't know how to explain it. I just love Senpai. I love him with all my heart, and that won't ever change.
Anyway, I hope I can make it clear to him that I decided to do this for myself—that he has no reason to bare any burden. I really just…hope that none of my friends think that this was due to their short-comings.
It's true that I felt isolated—like I had no one to truly turn to. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't have had to resort to doing what I did. But that wasn't on them—that was NEVER on them. This was me; this was my choice, my outcome.
So…to all of you wonderful friends of mine…to Chie-senpai, and Yukiko-senpai, and to Teddie, and little Nanako-chan, and to Naoto-kun, and to Kanami-chan, and every other beautiful person who has always supported me throughout my life…
Thank you.
And I truly, truly love you all. I hope this hasn't changed how sincere that love feels. I truly am blessed to have had so many amazing friends—so many wonderful bonds.
I hope that you're hearing these last words…and I hope you truly have wonderful lives. I hope that your beauty continues to shine on…
I hope that your beauty won't become tainted—I hope that you all, one day, understand why I did what I did…that the ugly scum that I put down were nothing but a burden on you and your lives.
To Kanami—I hope your beauty as an idol shines through, and that you make a positive impact.
To little Nanako-chan—I hope that you grow up into a gorgeous, shapely young woman, with stunning good-looks to match your sweet heart.
To Naoto-kun—I hope you continue to fight for what you think is right as the handsome prince of the detective world.
To all my other friends—I hope that you continue to use your beauty for what you know is right.
To Inoue-san and Miss Ochimizu—I hope that you will continue to lead a positive influence in the world that only isolated me. And thank you, for everything you did for me as an idol.
And of course, to my beloved Senpai…
Please continue to be your handsome, dashing, incredible self.
And please…for my final request, please don't show ugly people mercy. Please make them pay.
Do that for me, okay, Senpai?
I love you. I'm so, so sorry that things had to end this way…I'm sorry that those ugly scum drove this wedge between us. I promise that we'll meet again—in this world, or in another. Because you know what? I've seen so many incredible things.
So many things, that it'd be ridiculous for me to dismiss an afterlife out of hand.
No, I'm sure that an afterlife exists…
And when I eventually meet you guys there, I want it to be with open arms. I hope that that day will come. So just wait for me, okay? One day, I'll be with you beautiful people again…
- Rise "Risette" Kujikawa