Chapter 3: Countdown to Execution
At that moment, everyone's phones rang at once—a chorus of notifications, slicing through the chaos. [Limited to ten minutes. Only two minutes left.] [Please, the unluckiest student, pick your own way to die. When time is up, forced execution.]
Faces went slack with terror. No more pretending. Rachel’s face shifted—cold, calculating—as she glanced at Aubrey, who crouched on the floor, shaking. Aubrey looked up, cheeks blotchy, hugging her knees. A puddle spread under her feet; she didn't even notice. The shame made her whimper, too terrified to move.
Aubrey lunged at Rachel, grabbing her hand. "Advisor, Ms. Rachel, I don't want to die! Only you can save me now—please! The rules say the Lucky Draw winner can do anything, no restrictions! Please, you have to help me. You can change the rules, right? If you post in the group that I'm exempt from this punishment, I won't die!"
A desperate hope flickered in the room. Someone laughed nervously, "Yeah, that’s it! Just type it out and we’re good, right? This has to be a joke."
"That's right! Just do that and there won't be any punishment," someone else echoed. A few more people tried to play it cool—“Even I got fooled.” The laughter was hollow, but for a second, hope sparked.
Someone snickered, “Yo, check out Aubrey—pink skirt and everything. Didn’t know she’d pee herself for real!” The laughter was mean, but nobody stopped it.
Marcus and Derek slumped to the floor, the fight forgotten. But Rachel wasn’t done. She typed in the group chat: [Are you sure anything I want can be done? As long as I say it, it will come true?]
Lillian Carter replied instantly: [Yes. As long as you post your wish in the group, it will be fulfilled immediately.]
The air went still. Aubrey screamed, lunging for Rachel’s phone. "Don’t play games with me, Rachel! I’m begging you! My life is at stake—don’t joke with me!"
Rachel quickly typed: [I want all of Aubrey’s savings. Transfer all her money to my account.]
Ding dong. Rachel's phone buzzed with a bank alert—ten million dollars. She held up her screen, eyes wide. For a moment, terror was replaced by disbelief.
Aubrey stared, broken. "If you’d said so earlier, I would’ve given you the money! I just want to live!"
Then, Lillian Carter sent another message: [Time's up. Aubrey didn't choose a way to die. Forced execution.]
The room froze. Chairs crashed as everyone scrambled away, forming a wide circle around Aubrey. Her eyes rolled with panic, sweat pouring down her face. The puddle beneath her spread.
Ten seconds passed. Nothing happened. For a heartbeat, hope flickered. Marcus laughed shakily, “See? I told y’all it was a joke!” He stood and slapped Rachel. The sound echoed—then a sickening, wet bang, like someone dropping a watermelon from the roof. Red sprayed across the tile. Nobody moved.
It was like we’d all been dunked in ice water. Nobody could breathe. Marcus pressed his hands over his face, peeking through his fingers. Aubrey was gone, replaced by a stain that spread across the floor. The clock over the exit sign ticked, loud as a hammer.