It was.... dark.
Where... was he?
It was almost pitch black, with only faint lines of bricks and train tracks being visible, well, there was a ton of other things but they were too faint to make out.
Kokichi was ultimately and purely confused, until the pain set in.
His tongue, some device was attached to it, and it didnt seem like it would come free anytime soon. It was tight, pulling his tongue straight up with such pressure that little pink drops of blood were beginning to run down his chin. His feet shook on the unsteady stepstool he was on, he had to precariously balance himself to prevent falling off. Seriously, it felt like it was about to collapse under its' own weight, pretty bad design for a stepstool.
All that aside, what was going on?
''Hello, Kokichi. I want to play a game.'
A game? What sort of sick game is this?
''The 3 train will be arriving in two minutes. It's up to you to decide whether it'll be your last stop. During that killing game you miraculously survived, you've almost lied your way to your, and a dozen other innocent peoples' deaths. Today, you will pay the price. You have one chance, and one chance only, to survive this. Tear from your mouth the tongue that has been used so often to lie and to decieve. Take a leap of faith, and free yourself. Only your own body weight will rip away your lying tongue and save you. Live or die, Kokichi. Make your choice.''
Okay, what the fuck?
The stepstool wobbled under his weight, serving as a harsh reminder to the problem he was facing.
Okay.. okay this might be a problem.
His hands immediately tried to free his tongue, once that was free, he could just... walk off!
...if he could actually get the damn thing off.
It was tight, not budging an inch.
C'mon, just move a little bit...
It didn't budge, all he acheived was making his tongue hurt more.
Okay, what the actual fuck was he going to do now? Time was running out, and he could hear the train coming in the distance.
Please... just move.
It still didn't budge.
Was there... only that one option?
He didnt want to think about it, his tongue being ripped from his mouth, blood flowing from the wound like a fountain...
He tried to shake the grisly image from his head. But with the train sounds getting louder and louder...
What else could he possibly do?
Get hit by the oncoming train, never to be seen again?
No, he would be seen again, just as a bloody, mangled corpse. Which admittedly, wasn't that charming of a thought. He'd survived a killing game for god's sake, to be killed by something like this would just be embarrassing.
The wooden stepstool wobbled, almost sending Kokichi flying off of it, which considering the situation, was not to be desired. At all.
The volume of the train rose significantly, ringing in his ears as the fear and panic rose along side it.
Louder... louder still...
Cmon, just come off already..!
He gripped the device and pulled it in every direction he could think of in an attempt to free his tongue, trying his best to ignore the pain.
Please please please please please please please please...
The train turned the corner, light filling the tunnel.
His mind went blank, and he kicked the flimsy wooden stepstool over in a panic, causing it to snap from the force, causing Kokichi to immediately fall from the height.
Leaving his torn, bleeding tongue behind and a trail of pink following him to the ground.
The train kept on coming closer and closer, as if it would ram into him at any minute, leaving him as just a pink smear on the window...
Searing agony coursed through his body, his mouth felt like it was on fire, yet strangely numb at the same time. Blood continued to spurt from the wound, causing a pink waterfall to flow down his chin, throughly staining his clothes, and then-
Everything, his vision, his senses... it all went dark.
Kokichi Ouma's body slammed against the train window, splattering blood across it and leaving a massive crack where impact was made, before falling under the wheel and dying the ground underneath the train tracks so throughly, people say the pink stains would never come out.
The human will to live, the built-in urge to keep on living, it's really quite something, isn't it?