"What? Truth or Lie??"
Louis, in his head: Questions… and the consequences?
Romy: "Then let's begin. First— the blonde one… step forward."
There were two chairs and a table. On the table lay a heavy iron mold shaped like a pair of hands.
When the blonde girl sat down, Romy took the chair opposite her. Domi came up from behind, seized the girl's wrists, and forced her hands into the mold.
Louis: "That…!"
The mold moved on its own, snapping into place like a rat trap, locking around Catherine's hands. Any amount of pressure would make it close completely—crushing and severing her fingers.
The girls whispered in terror.
Romy: "Hmmmm, so let's begin. Any pressure, and the mold snaps shut and cuts off your fingers. Stay calm. We have three questions. If you lie on a question, the fingers of one hand will be cut off. And if you lose all your fingers…" she smiled lazily, "…I suppose you'll be my meal for today. Heehee. So—let's start."
Romy picked up a paper file filled with information. She put on her glasses like a teacher, her torn white dress stained and splattered with blood.
Diiing.
"Question one," she said. "Hmm, I believe your name is Catherine. Oh—ten years old. Delicious. They say you have a younger brother. Heehee, how lovely. So tell me—if I offered to switch places with your brother right now, would you accept… or refuse?"
Catherine: "I—I— I refuse—((spoooooooosh ))——AAAAAH— it hurts!"
The fingers of one hand were severed. Blood splattered across the table, across Romy's face and glasses.
Romy froze for a moment. Then she dropped the papers, removed her glasses, and slowly licked them.
"Hmm."
She picked up Catherine's severed fingers and began eating them one by one.
The sight was horrifying—shocking beyond words.
Several girls fainted. Others screamed. Catherine cried and screamed in agony.
When Romy finished, she fell silent for a moment.
"Now… question two—"
Catherine: "It hurts! Please—!!"
Louis stood frozen in terror and shock, unable to move or act.
The doors are locked. Romy and Domi are here. No matter what I do, they'll catch me. I can't stop this madness. This stopped being about survival—now it's far more twisted than hell itself. How are we supposed to escape now?