Chapter 9 - Beach Episode / Finale

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It was tall. Grossly tall. Its face was pale like a porcelain figure. It had one singular eye that was placed vertically on its forehead. It had a large mouth that took up most of its face, inside was rows and rows of sharp jagged teeth. Its body was hidden by a dark cloak, similar to a grim reaper's robe. Though the most distinguishing feature of this monster was the rope that wrapped around its torso. The rope bound corpses around its waist. The corpse's were little and somewhat disfigured. The heads were much bigger than the body, the limbs were disproportionate, and the teeth were small and short.
They all looked like— children.

I winced in disgust, it all made sense. The nursery rhymes, a mothers call, at a pier full of kids. The entire thing was a trap. I wondered how many kids had fallen victim. There was only about 5 bodies tied to it, but I wondered if there were more. It just stood there, waiting for me to get closer. I wondered what its method was when dealing with its victims. I decided to start out with the most practical defense, backing up and pulling out a gun. I would only use a knife or a sword if its imperative, long distance seems like the best option. I took out the handgun and checked the clip. Of course its fucking empty.

I pulled the ammunition out of my bag. The bullets were quite odd, they were hot, and hurt to the touch. I quickly loaded the gun and tried to pull the trigger, it wouldn't budge. It wasn't as if the trigger was jammed, my finger simply could not move it. Then the swell began. The fear swirled with frustration and that surge of energy began to rise in my core. I had the gun in both hands, pointed at it, right in front of me. I watched as a pink haze wrapped around my body, I pulled the trigger again.
It shot.

It pierced straight through its chest, so I shot again. And then again, and again, and again, and again. I kept shooting until I ran out of bullets. Then i refilled the clip and began shooting again.

════

"Do you guys hear... gunshots?" Kugisaki asks. "I thought I was tweaking." Itadori says. "She brought a gun?" Nanami asks. "Maybe she went through our stuff, Mai's spare gun and bullets were in one of the bags right?" Megumi says. "She wouldn't be able to use it, non sorcerers can't use cursed objects. She wouldn't be able to use any of the things in that bag. If theres a gun either she found it, or she brought it." Satoru says. "I mean good for her for staying strapped." Itadori says. "Its not like a handgun is going to affect a special grade, cursed or not." Nanami says.
Suddenly Gojo gets a call.

"The fuck?" He says looking down at his phone. "Who is it?" Kento questions. "Fucking Utahime. Its like 4 in the morning." He says answering the call.

"Hello?"
"What the fuck are you doing."
"Well good morning to you too Iori."
"Look Satoru I don't have the time nor the patience for your bullshit. I was awaken at the ass crack of fucking dawn to be informed that one of my second years curse technique suddenly activated itself. Mai can only shoot one bullet per day and she's claiming she's felt at least 40. They greatly affect her body, so whatever you're doing, please stop."
"My apologies, but I have no clue what you're talking about. I'm dealing with my own student-complications. Try the geezer."
"Tch, goodbye."

"What was she talking about?" Kugisaki says. "'Parently Mai can't control her jujutsu, whats fucking new. It ain't my problem Utahime can't handle her own students." Gojo says. "Are you... mad?" Megumi asks. Gojo sits down and stares at the curtain. "I don't like being unaware. I want to know what the hell is going on in there. I want to make sense of this. With Yuuta it was painfully obvious exactly what his deal was, I figured it out in a few weeks. Y/n has been around for nearly two months and I'm completely lost. Any human... any normal human, under a curtain with a curse would last 10 minutes if they have the speed and agility of an Olympian gold medalist. Its been 45 minutes and the curtain still hasn't dropped." Gojo says.

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