Danganronpa: Until Proven Guilty

Overture: Copycat

The night drags on ahead of me as I tap at the keys on my laptop. I don't even stop to read back the words I've written. I just stare at the white screen before me, with no sound other than the 'click, click, click' as I type. My eyes strain against the light that sucks every last ounce of energy out of me, like it wants me to black out from exhaustion. My fingers dance across the keyboard, sending a stream of meaningless filler sentences across the screen in hopes of reaching the word limit.
'A 5000-word essay, which may determine my final grade, due tonight at 12:00 AM,' the little nagging voice in the back of my mind says, 'of course I would leave it to the last minute.'
I glance at the little clock in the corner of my screen. It reads 11:42. There's just enough time.
My throat aches from thirst, but I push on and try to cram out just a few more paragraphs. Heart thumping against my ribs, I rub my temples, screw up my eyes and try to think as hard as I can.
"Useless." I've run out of ideas and I'm 300 words short. I shake my hair out of my tired eyes, trying to think through anything that could get me out of this.

"Pretend I have the flu? No, I've used that excuse so many times. I could write some random words in white? No, no, as if my professor is that stupid..."
I catch myself thinking aloud.
"Did I seriously just say all that?"
Again.

Now I know it's time to take a break. Shutting my laptop with a reluctant sigh, I flex my fingers. The sound of my knuckles cracking sends a wave of satisfaction down my spine as I swing my legs out from under my crumpled sheets and meander towards the kitchen.
The journey through my pitch-black flat is unsettling. Everything is quiet, still, and the air lingers around me as I move, like it's watching me. Waiting. The clock ticks rhythmically, almost as if to mock me. My fingers fumble against the wall in hopes of finding the light switch. The fan starts to hum low, sending a cold breeze over my bare chest. I squint, shielding my eyes from the sudden change of light.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, so sudden I barely notice it, something moves.

The sound of footsteps against the carpet grips me like an icy hand around my heart. I turn. No sign of anything. The movement stops as suddenly as it started. All kinds of possibilities fly through my head. Murderer? Robber? Really inconsiderate landlord?
"Oh yeah, I have roommates."
I laugh to myself, humiliated by my own skittishness. Brushing it off, I head to the cupboard and take a tall glass, covered with half-washed stains, and fill it to the brim. The sound of running water puts my mind at rest and my heartbeat slowly begins to settle. Putting the glass to my lips, I let the water run down my throat as the cool sensation seems to flood my entire body. When I'm done, I toss the glass in the sink, leaving it for someone more organised than me to clean up.

For a moment, I stop to think. Is this how I really want to be? Letting my life happen around me as I sit and do nothing. I can't bring myself to care. In the end, it's all for a degree in a subject I'm hardly interested in. I'm here for another year at most, and then I can chase my dreams. Or some other bullshit to that effect.
"I guess I'd better finish" I switch off the light in the kitchen and try not to trip on the way back to my room.
As soon as my feet brush up against my bedsheets, I'm reminded of the intense panic of writing this damn thing. 250 more words, 249, 248. More, more. The words bang against my skull, as if begging to be released. Cold sweat clings to my forehead but I persevere.

A noise.
The floorboards let out a sudden screech, ringing through the flat like a drill. I stop typing and the room falls quiet. That can't be my roommates.
Scuffling, shifting, mumbling. Do I run? Do I hide? God only knows where they are. If I run, I could just end up giving myself to whoever's out there. If I hide, they'll just find me, and that's it.
I slam my laptop and shove it under my pillow, pulling the sheets to my neck. I want to call out, but the words can't seem to creep off my lips. Like a burrowing kitten, I slide under the covers and cross my fingers.
And once again, silence. Almost as if the whole world comes to a halt. Everything but the violent thumping of my heart.

Cowering under the covers, I let time blur into a mess. Seconds into minutes. Minutes into hours. For all I know, it could be morning. Or it could have been less than a minute.
Silence. More silence. An eternity of silence. Silence so deep, I start to realise how much of a child I'm being. Of course there are no monsters or maniacs in my room. The door's locked, for fuck's sake.
Relieved, I emerge from my pathetic cocoon and rest my head on the pillow. The tension slowly fades, and I feel at peace buried in my thick duvet.
Slowly, I begin to drift off.
Forget the essay, you've had enough trauma for tonight.

And then pressure.
Forceful pressure straight on my face. What feels like one of my cushions clamps over me like an industrial machine. My eyes widen, and I can hear the grunting of a vaguely deep-voiced man as the pressure increases, forcing the air from my lungs.
Darkness.
I flail my arms and legs, trying to break free from his grip. Thoughts and possibilities flash through my mind in a heap of confusion and fear.
Who's out there?  Are they going to kill me? Am I dying? 

Is this it?

I try to kick, but as I begin to choke on the lack of air, I'm left squirming like a centipede. My eyes fill with tears. But I can still feel another presence. Like there's someone else here too.

Oh my god. What do they want from me?

Chest tightening, I cry out in pain. I feel my lungs burning deep within me, and I pray that this is all a sick, twisted dream.

Footsteps. Slowly shuffling towards me, becoming louder and closer with every step. I feel a mouth by my ear, hot breath tickling my skin.
"You're lucky, this is just the beginning..."

I widen my eyes more. 

This is where I die 

Slowly, slowly, slowly, consciousness slips away from me.
Slowly. Painfully.
Until there's nothing.

—
holy shit it begins! this chapter was kinda strange for a fangan, but it was necessary! i hope you enjoy the rest of the story! next chapter tomorrow!