Slimy

Class 3-E

At this moment, everyone was experiencing how it felt like eating coffee and beans in one sitting. The atmosphere in the entire class reminds someone of a funeral. In fact, it might be worse. At least a funeral has people talking about the dead. Here, everyone wants to be dead.

Every student has their head facing down, various thoughts running through their mind. The air was suffocating. Everything looks almost monochrome, despite the dim light shining through the windows.

In the middle of the silence, a strong gust of wind blew outside. Unfortunately, the windows were closed, barring the students from seeing whatever is happening out there. The dilapidated classroom shook from the wind, but everyone was too busy being edgy at the moment to care.

Moments later came weird sounds that reminds one of shitty porn videos. Slimy and wet. That basically describes what is heard. Are those footsteps? Probably? It sounded more like slithering, to be honest.

Someone gulped, and everyone heard it. They just don't know who. Not that is matters.

The door slides open, and something enters. Everyone let out silent gasps of shock, fear, and confusion. Impossible to know which one is which, but it all culminated to a series of weird gasping.

And the creature in front slaps a roll book down at the podium with its two-fingered tentacles. And it spoke.

"Now, then."

Its tentacles began to slither.

"Let's begin homeroom."

What the fuck is this creature?

"Class monitor, on your command." It once again spoke.

Ok fuck third person what the fuck is happening?

"S-stand!" Stuttered the petite blue-haired femboy.

And everyone did stand. But in a fashion that makes American classrooms blush, they pull out guns. Most pulled a pistol, but a few has assault rifles. Me? I have a pistol. But I'm not taking it out. It's rude, you know?

Every single gun barrel was aimed at the... yellow octopus thingy at the front.

"Attention!" This guy really sounds like a girl.

"Bow!" I don't know if anyone even heard that. Everyone just started blasting at the same time. Shit, that's loud.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of pellets was shot at the octopus. And due to a certain reason, none hit it. And that certain reason may or may not be because the octopus is moving at Mach fucking 20.

"Good morning." It started talking.

"I'll be taking attendance, so please, fire all you like." It continued casually. Badass.

"Isogai-kun?"

"Present." Answered someone.

"My apologies. I'll need you to speak up, what with all this gunfire." No shit I can't even hear my thoughts.

"Present!" Yelled a person name Isogai.

"Okajima-kun?"

"Present!"

Someone reloaded.

"Okuda-san?"

"Present!"

Someone dropped a magazine.

"Kataoka-san?"

"Present!"

Pellets littered the floor. That's gonna be a pain to clean.

Anyways, the roll call continued as if the students are not shooting at the weird octopus alien creature at the front.

"Iwasaki-kun?" Oh, that's me.

"Present!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"All right. Everyone on time, I see." The octopus cheerily spoke.

"Excellent! That makes me very happy." Its head turned orange with a red circle on it. Weird.

Being on time isn't really that impressive. It's Japan. It's something that runs through everyone's veins. Besides, my mother would skin me alive if I even got 2 minutes late to class. It's a miracle I'm still alive when she learned of my transfer to Class E.

As the teacher spoke, the students heaved in exhaustion. Which is absurd. They just fired a gun for a few minutes. Weaklings.

"He's way too fast." No shit.

"So even the whole class at once can't bring him down?" Maybe if we used a nuke he'll die.

"Too bad." Said the octopus. Even with its permanent yellow smiling face, it somehow managed to make itself look smug. And it has dots as eyes.

"Not one of your bullets hit me today, either." With its tentacles, it shrugged.

"Tactics that rely on sheer numbers neglect individual focus. Be it line of sight, barrel position, or finger movement, each of you was far too easy to read."

"You need to be more inventive!"

... I should bring a molotov tomorrow.

"Otherwise, you'll never be able to kill me. I can speed up to Mach 20, you know?" What the fuck is it doing with its tentacles?

Anyways, I should bring several dozens of molotovs.

"But, like, see..." What? "There's no way you seriously dodged all of those!"

I doubt that either. But we're talking about a weird alien yellow octopus who speaks Japanese. That's weird enough as it is, it being able to dodge bullets isn't that shocking.

"I mean, these are just BB pellets." I will shoot you in the face and you tell me if it doesn't hurt.

"You could've just taken them on the chin." Does it even have a chin in the first place?

"Yeah!"

"That's right!"

The octopus let out a weird sound. Was it a sigh? No idea.

"Very well. Gather up the BBs and hand them over."

With one of its tentacles, it reached out to a female student... that sounded weird. Anyways it grabbed her gun and held it.

"I told you: these may be harmless to you..." It aimed at one of its tentacles and fired.

Coupled with a weird slushy sound, the tentacle was blasted with the force of a sniper rifle. Everyone gasped. Including I. It has blood? Does it taste like mustard?

"...but they're special anti-me BB pellets developed by the government." It casually spoke as its wounded tentacle developed Parkinson's disease and jerked all over the place, spilling mustard everywhere.

This would be a different matter entirely if it has red blood.

"If one hits me, it'll slice right through my cells like tofu." So this is where the tax money was spent on.

"They'll regenerate a few seconds later, of course." As it said so, a brand new shiny tentacle grew from its severed limb.

"I'm more concerned about you putting a classmate's eyes out. No shooting in the classroom unless you're trying to kill me."

"And..." Green stripes appeared on its head. "I do hope you can kill me- before graduation, that is."

Oh fuck. Time limits. I hate those.

"Now then, let's put away the arms and ammunition and begin class."

And now time to be taught by an octopus monster.

This is definitely the weirdest day of my life.