REVENGE III: THE REST
The Count snapped open the bag of potato chips and dramatically bit one.
"And now, the fruits of my labor."
Video feeds hovered over his four remaining targets. Ochako popped an anti-nausea pill, Jirou slipped on her noise cancelling headphones, Mina slathered on the moisturizing cream, and Hagakure inspected her reflection in the mirror.
In a shadowy alcove, an orchestra took up their bows, and a choir began an ephemeral latin chant. The dramatic music rose to a crescendo as the four girls sipped from their poisoned chalices.
Ochako did a double-take as she passed an oyster bar. Courtesy of the Count, free for all takers, and strategically placed on Ochako's usual route to class. Most of the shells were empty, suggesting others had gotten them first, but in truth, the three remaining were all there ever was.
Jirou settled comfortably into her chair as the headphones shifted the ambient sound's frequency below her hearing range.
Mina marveled at how smooth her hands felt. While she wasn't looking at them, her fingers dripped acid onto the floor.
Hagakure marveled at the sight of her face. She marveled, at least, until she noticed a pimple on her cheek.
The Count drew a magnificent fountain pen. He wrote each of their names, right below the other two already crossed out.
Ochako slurped down all of the oysters. She made it ten steps before an intense bout of nausea struck her. Yet, no matter how sick to her stomach she felt, she had no urge to puke.
A loud, buzzing fly made a whining sound next to Jirou's ear. Hissing in irritation at the sound coming through her headphones, she increased the power. She felt something shift as the ambient frequency dipped even lower and ran for the bathroom.
Mina scratched at her hands as the skin started flaking. She slathered more moisturizer on, sighing at the short-lived relief, and her fingers dripped more acid.
Hagakure kept pinching and poking, but the pimple resisted all her efforts. Every time she thought she got it, she found it elsewhere on her face. The mirror had a drawer, and inside, Hagakure found a serrated pad labeled as a pimple remover. It tingled as she drew it across her face.
The orchestra and choir boomed as their final moments drew near. Chip in one hand and pen in the other, the Count grinned as his vengeance unfolded.
Ochako swelled and turned green. Floating like a balloon, she exploded in a shower of rainbows and confetti.
Mina turned into a withered, desiccated mummy as she squeezed the last pathetic dribble of moisturizer onto her skin.
Jirou stared out from her seat on the toilet with a haunted look, looking like an empty tube of toothpaste.
And Hagakure had scratched off her entire face. The last thing she saw before passing out from blood loss was that pimple taunting her from her neck.
The Count drew four lines, slashing their names. "And now, for the coup de grace."
500
Yeah, doing four more of those would've been a bit much, so enjoy the murder spree speedrun!