Glossary of the Characters
Hakashita Junei - A young private, in the Republic of Greater East Asia's, Ministry of Defense International Defense Force. He realizes the consequences of war, as he steps onto the snow-laden battlefields of the, War of the 10th Dictator.
Tamagawa Ryohei - The Advisor of program No. 9, who hopes to have a successful, and absolutely no government casualty program this year, unlike his predecessor's.
Kinpatsu Sakamochi - Ryohei's nervous 30-something year old aide. He fears his senior's temper, but hopes to one day go above his seemingly trivial current position.
Nakatoki Hoban - Tamagawa Ryohei's previous superior. Was killed in a "mysterious," accident on Island #92048-990, the previous year, during an attemped escape.
Students of Takashima High School:
Fukuyo Ryoki - (Female Student No. 11) A young 16 year old girl with a plain face, flat nose, and longdyed bright brown hairfrom Takashima High School, in Japan. She despises perverts, and strangely behaved individuals.
Honda Kaito - (Male Student No. 12) A young 15 year old boy, with shoulder-length black hair, and a tall individual; who carries around a mysterious old-style cell phone as a weapon.
Fujiwara Hasebei - (Male Student No. 8) A 16 year old boy, with short black hair, and of medium height; he is the last to be removed from his school bus, for this year's "program."
Hojo Yui - (Male Student No. 5) An overweight, 15 year old boy, with the brain capacity of a 10 year old. He was reported to be a major pervert, with several sexual infractions of his school record.
Fukuyo Ryoki (Female Student No. 11) grinned, as she licked the blood off of her hands. She absolutely delighted in the taste of fresh blood, and entrails, in such a gloomy, but fascinating way. In her other hand she held the replica MP40, that she had only found a day earlier, from within her pack.
A very round, and obviously, diabetic figure lay sprawled on the ground next to her. (Male Student No. 5) Hojo Yui, had died only minutes earlier, while going to take a leak, in a nearby bush. But he his life had come to an end only a few steps away from there, as he had tried to escape Ryoki, as she chased after him with her MP40.
Currently his figure, lay dripping warm, fresh blood, into the pool of ichor and entrails that had amassed and enveloped his body.
Ryoki, didn't much like Hojo Yui. After all he was one of those perverted fat kids, who tried to stare up girls skirts. And to Ryoki that was just plain disgusting, first of all, Ryoki hated those sluts, that let fat boys stare up their skirts. And second of all she hated disgusting minded overweight losers. Personally, she didn't like to be mean to people who were, "slightly" beyond the amount of weight their breaches could hold, but in Hojo Yui's case, it was different.
To her killing the rat seemed like revenge enough for all his perverted acts. And besides that who knows what he would've done to other girls had he got his hands on them, before killing them. Basically she was, a "hero" for killing the plague, before it could effect other innocent girls.
Turning around to Yui's back pack, Ryoki, wiped her hands off quickly against the snow-covered grass, leaving two wet, crimson palm prints against the ground. Quickly she unzipped the pack as if opening the body bag of a loved one for the first time. Inside she found 2 water bottles, - one still sealed, and the other only half-drunk - a Bowie knife, 3 dull tasting white buns, and another map of the island. Finding no use for the map she used it as fuel when she set up her fire against the darkness of the night. Although with the Bowie Knife she strapped that in it's leather case to her shoulder.
Looking down again, at Hojo Yui's body, she still felt no remorse. Instead she brought up her MP40 again, and fired 2 shots, into Yui's already pale, white face. His head exploded in an outburst of blood, white fragments of skull, and gooey leftovers of a gray brain. Satisfied with her work Ryoki, got up and walked back toward the fire she had set up, and sat down comfortably, in front of it, to warm her hands, against the cold winter winds.
Far away on another snow-laden field, lay Hakashita Junei, his face masked in a snarl, as he watched the current scene. His grime-covered shotgun rested on the muddy snow to his side, as his hands held his military-issue binoculars up to his eyes, to gaze into the distance. The loud buzzing of auto cannon fire still irritated him, as he looked, although the artillery fire from the battle's advent, had died down hours ago.
From where Junei, lay, he could see several Imperialist American soldier's peeking out of the trenches parallel to the RGEA's trenches. Their bright yellow, turtle-shell shaped helmets, even shone slightly bright, against the little light that the moon provided from the skies. Several of them seem to be carrying some sort of foreign issue long rifle. Each one firing someone in the proximity of Junei, considering that every time one fired, he could hear the striking sound, as the bullet crashed into the terrain around him.
Again, Junei turned the view of the binoculars to the left, this time, he noticed a group of enemy soldiers crawling out of the trench, rifles in hand. His right hand dropped from the grip of the binoculars and quickly, and quietly brought his shot gun to view, in front of him. Remember that the gun had already been pumped previously before he had hid, he leveled the barrel with his sight, and aimed at the foremost soldier's bright yellow helmet.
Closer...closer...closer...bang..
The American soldier slumped, forward and crashed into the ground, as a gigantic ragged hole formed in his helmet. The helmet than slowly rolled away, revealing, the torn up red and white skull under it. Fragments of white bone, and a puddle of thick syrupy blood slowly drained out of the man's skull, like a waterfall.
Now, Junei, pumped his gun. The loud click of the gun's reloading mechanism, immediately alerted the rest of the dead soldier's comrades to his location. And telling from the hail of lead crashing into the snow and rocks near him, they weren't quite happy with the fate of their fellow. Unable to fire, Junei, turned to his left and right staring around for another suitable spot to rush to, for better protection. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly jumped up, and ran crouching toward a nearby set of medium-size boulders.
"Ugh...," uttered Junei, as a speeding, bullet cut through his lower right leg. Unable to continue to run, he crashed to the ground, his shot gun still lay in his hands, as his protected head slammed into a nearby rock. Desperately he dragged himself to the nearest rock, and pulled his leg up to check the blood loss. Watery red blood, poured onto the muddy snow. Reaching forward, to apply pressure on his lower leg, he suddenly felt another horrible pang of pain.
"Ahhh!" He yelped, as the little finger on his left hand exploded in another burst of blood, and skin.
Still filled with shock, he moved his left hand in front of his face in disbelief. His grime-covered face suddenly became pale, and he screamed for minutes, as he realized how bad his state had become. Sweat dribbled down his brow, as he became unaware of his surroundings.
He didn't stop until the cold icy feel of polished steel crashed through his skin, and penetrated his arm. For a few seconds his screaming stopped, and he stared at his arm. More immense amounts of blood dribbled down the combat knife's edge, as it with drew from his arm, and came back up. Gazing up, he suddenly became silent, and his eyes became wide, as the knife traveled down again, toward his chest.
I..I am gone...take me... oh angel of death...