Turn up! #bootcamp2018

Rika Beats Fate?!

Quiet and still. I can't afford to make a single sound. Those men out there are trained and focused. Finding me is their only priority. Without me dead, all of their hard work is wasted. They planned to scoop me up in the middle of the night and surprise me, I'm sure.

I can't die. Not now. Not when I'm so close. Fate is so close, I can feel its deathly cold hands along my shoulders, ready to embrace me in its far too familiar arms. It gives me chills. I can't die again. I can beat fate here.

Satoko, Mion, Rena. Keiichi.

No. We will beat fate. I will live to see the first of July. I can't let everyone down.

The open windows in my room let in moonlight. It's dim, but it's enough light to cast shadows of the men in unmarked uniforms searching around the shrine and tossing things aside: books, clothes, furniture. They're in a frenzy to find me. They probably have a time limit, so they're desperate.

I'm cornered. As soon as they open the closet door, I have nowhere to hide, but I have a plan. I prepared for this.

They had to have split up in search of me, so I'm confident that there should be only one or two in close proximity to this closet. I clinch the small metal can in my right hand. My body heat warmed it considerably during the time I've been silently hauled up in this tiny space, dreading and anticipating the creek of the door, the ruffle of clothes, and the look of fortune on whichever uniformed man's face that gets sight of mine.

The can of pepper spray sticks to the palm of my hand, but that's fine. This tight grip gives me comfort in a way; with it, I can manage to get out of here. I'm sure they'll be more of them waiting outside, but I can dodge them. I know I can. Then I'll run. They might have studied Hinamizawa, but they're still outsiders. They don't know this place like I do. As long as I run fast enough, I can lose them in the woods.

Through the gap at the bottom of the door, I see shadows going back and forth around in my room. They're getting closer. I know what I have to do; I know how I have to do it, yet my heart still won't settle down.

Stop it.

I've been in worse situations. I've lived through this same week over and over again for years, died over and over again for years, watched my friends murder each other over and over and over again for years. I can't waver— can't flinch.

I hear a quick mumble outside of the door. It's almost time. A different voice from the earlier one gives a response I can't quite make out. A collective chuckle. Collective? How many...

The knob turns and a flood of soft light fills the closet.