Seizon Daigaku

Prologue

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are only produced by the author's imagination. Do not publish or distribute the story's contents in any way.

WARNING: This story contains profanities, violence, gore scenes, adult stuff, and mature scenes that might not be suitable for ages below 18. Read at your own risk. 

PROLOGUE

The sound of his ballpen clicking and the ticking of the wall clock echoed around the room. His fingers relentlessly played with the pen due to excitement—because in ten days, he will be reopening his vile institution.

A learning institution with a twist. A playground of death. A trap.

A deadly trap for incoming poor students that will play his games whether they would like it or not.

As he was about to check his calendar for the second time, the door opened, causing him to stop and glance at the door. His most trusted secretary entered the room with a plain expression on her face. "You requested for me, Sir Drion?"

"Prepare the place. Clean all the mess you can find. We will reopen for the second batch," he ordered and his secretary nodded without hesitations.

"What about the professors, staffs, and especially the survived students, Sir?" He gritted his teeth upon hearing the last thing. He remembered that even though he enjoyed the first batch, still, a few students outsmarted his games and survived until the end of the year.

Oh well. They can join the incoming students and die with them this time, he thought. "Tell them to shut their mouths or I'll end their lives. It's that simple. As for the students, they can join the second batch."

"Will do, sir." Just as she left the room, Mr. Drion's son stormed in the room with clenched fists. He chuckled as soon he saw him. "My dear son Corbin, what brings you here?"

"What the hell are you planning?"

"It's not your business to know," he nonchalantly replied as he rested his clasped hands on his desk. He immediately took off his hands on his desk when his son stomped his fists on it, "Careful, son. You might not have hands after you give me your attitude."

"I'm not a fool. You're reopening your death trap again, aren't you? Hindi ka pa ba nagsawa?" Corbin's stare pierced him and he stared back.

"Why would I be? This is just the beginning and I'm just getting started. If you wish to interfere with my plans, you could have just told me that you want to participate along the students."

Corbin snickered upon his father's reply. "I don't care whether you put me in your games or not. I'll make sure this batch will be the second and the last."

Mr. Drion chuckled and was about to respond when Corbin exited the room with rage. With his son's behavior, he will absolutely put him in the participants list. Corbin is his son but the boy is testing his patience.

Soon, in ten days.

Let death play with lives again.