Lord Worm
11-19-2004, 08:11 AM
The sun rose later than usual today,
For such a cold and dry morning, one would wonder why it even rose at all.
The birds who'd often perch and sing had vanished,
Seemingly foreshadowing a kind of pathetic fallacy.
But today things would be thrown into balance.
He didn't go to his first class,
Rather he nerved himself for what was to come.
Maybe fifteen minutes of empowerment of the most primal kind, maybe twenty.
Even 10 seconds would be worth it. He deserved this much, that he knew.
He had many scores to settle; but two settled scores would be suffice.
He walked into a classroom and locked it, the students (the teacher was absent) didn't notice him.
He spoke two names aloud and paused. Their owners merely looked up, the rest of the class ignored him.
"What do you want, faggot?" One said.
He drew his weapon, the class froze.
The owner of the pistol spoke, "Everybody keep calm, and you will not be hurt."
They did as instructed.
To those whose names he called, "Stand up, now." They didn't move.
"Stand up, right fucking now!" He screamed. Slowly, they did.
He indicated to the corner. "Move, now!" Slowly, they did. One had a tear forming in the corner of his eye, and he begged to the gunman, "Please don't shoot us!". The response:
"You will die today, you will die within the next ten minutes, I guarantee it".
"Please no!"
"Oh, yes."
With the gun focused on one of the boy's heart, he said, "Why should I show you any mercy at all? What have you done to deserve mercy?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry", the condemned sobbed.
"If I had not this gun, you'd never be sorry. What kind of creature are you? You deserve death."
He continued. "I know what's going to happen. I'll be shot and killed. I will be called a monster. You'll be remembered as heros. You are not heros. You are cowards. Look at you crying in the corner right now. You've got snot running from your noses. You are both absolutely pitiful. I detest the sight of you."
He himself was crying.
He dried his eyes with his left hand and said, "I value your lives more than I value my own. You matter. I do not. It is more effective to destroy what's valueable."
He extended the weapon towards the head of one of the boys, who didn't budge. Tears fell to the floor. He held the gun there for an eternity, but he quickly turned the gun on himself and blew out his brains.
Bits of skull and brain matter and hair and cerebral fluid showered the class.
The news wanted to interview the class. The students described the gunman as a loner who never talked to anyone, and nobody ever bothered him.
This was wrong.
The two boys were commended on their bravery.
And months later, one of them remarked to his other friends, "I knew that freak was a fucking pussy."
For such a cold and dry morning, one would wonder why it even rose at all.
The birds who'd often perch and sing had vanished,
Seemingly foreshadowing a kind of pathetic fallacy.
But today things would be thrown into balance.
He didn't go to his first class,
Rather he nerved himself for what was to come.
Maybe fifteen minutes of empowerment of the most primal kind, maybe twenty.
Even 10 seconds would be worth it. He deserved this much, that he knew.
He had many scores to settle; but two settled scores would be suffice.
He walked into a classroom and locked it, the students (the teacher was absent) didn't notice him.
He spoke two names aloud and paused. Their owners merely looked up, the rest of the class ignored him.
"What do you want, faggot?" One said.
He drew his weapon, the class froze.
The owner of the pistol spoke, "Everybody keep calm, and you will not be hurt."
They did as instructed.
To those whose names he called, "Stand up, now." They didn't move.
"Stand up, right fucking now!" He screamed. Slowly, they did.
He indicated to the corner. "Move, now!" Slowly, they did. One had a tear forming in the corner of his eye, and he begged to the gunman, "Please don't shoot us!". The response:
"You will die today, you will die within the next ten minutes, I guarantee it".
"Please no!"
"Oh, yes."
With the gun focused on one of the boy's heart, he said, "Why should I show you any mercy at all? What have you done to deserve mercy?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry", the condemned sobbed.
"If I had not this gun, you'd never be sorry. What kind of creature are you? You deserve death."
He continued. "I know what's going to happen. I'll be shot and killed. I will be called a monster. You'll be remembered as heros. You are not heros. You are cowards. Look at you crying in the corner right now. You've got snot running from your noses. You are both absolutely pitiful. I detest the sight of you."
He himself was crying.
He dried his eyes with his left hand and said, "I value your lives more than I value my own. You matter. I do not. It is more effective to destroy what's valueable."
He extended the weapon towards the head of one of the boys, who didn't budge. Tears fell to the floor. He held the gun there for an eternity, but he quickly turned the gun on himself and blew out his brains.
Bits of skull and brain matter and hair and cerebral fluid showered the class.
The news wanted to interview the class. The students described the gunman as a loner who never talked to anyone, and nobody ever bothered him.
This was wrong.
The two boys were commended on their bravery.
And months later, one of them remarked to his other friends, "I knew that freak was a fucking pussy."