Revenge     
by valgamon@dfw.net

     "BLAM!"
     My gripping fist shook with the recoil. A spurting spew
of thick, copious blood shot forth from the forehead of David
Edwards. He was the first one. But at this point, I really
didn't care. Nothing was going to stop me from achieving my
goal. I had waited seven years to extract my revenge.
     I walked, calm and collected, down the dimly-lit
hallway, keeping a perfectly synchronous pace. Left, right,
left, right... never wavering. My muffled footsteps echoed in
the cavernous halls.
     A door opened in front of me. Mrs. Hinkson dropped the
stack of papers she was carrying and screamed upon seeing my
red-spattered visage. However, before she could finish her
wailing alarm, a bullet tore through her neck and lodged
itself just beyond her trachea, in her upper spine. She
flopped onto the floor awkwardly, as if she were a fish out
of water. After a few quick, jerking spasms, she lay still.
     Left, right, left, right...
     My mouth began to curl into a tight, wicked grin. I
wondered who the next poor soul to cross my path would be.
     A short, stocky, greasy-faced scrub who I immediately
recognized as Bernie Jackson rounded a distant corner. I
stopped walking and raised my arm to my level of vision.
     The sudden silence caused by the absence of my
footsteps caught me off guard, and I missed my mark. A
piercing cry of agony resonated throughout the hall as the
first shot shredded its way into Bernie's shoulder, with such
force as to pin him to the wall. "No!" he cried as I adjusted
the crosshairs. "No! Don't!" His feeble pleas fell on deaf
ears as a second bullet shattered his skull, sending bone
fragments and chunks of bloodied brain shrapnel flying in all
directions.
     I let out a barely-audible sigh of relief at the fact
that class was still in session, and the soundproof rooms
would not betray my mission.
     Left, right, left, right... the tension left my body as
the comforting sound of my footsteps returned. I went
downstairs. Someone would notice soon.
     As I turned another corner, I noticed two giggling girls
chattering about some bullshit. I've always hated the sound
of fake, shallow laughter. It scraped at my eardrums like
razor-sharp nails on a chalkboard. Without thinking, or
aiming, I let three buckshots loose down the hall. With each
explosive crack, the aroma of gunsmoke grew thicker in my
nostrils. I watched the first two cleave the skinny girl's
leg. She howled in horror as the third tore its way into her
friend's ribcage, showering her in a wall of blood. Before
the fat girl even had a chance to realize what had happened,
she fell to the cold, tiled floor, dead. The skinny girl had
just enough time to make eye contact with me before a bullet
ripped into the center of her chest. She spit up blood all
over herself as she drew her last breath. Such a mess. I
deviated from my original course, cutting through a small
courtyard to reach my ultimate destination.
     As I opened the door to the boys' locker room, the bell
rang. I covered the gun with the open flaps of my jacket. A
rushing herd of impatient teenagers pushed forward, surging
as one great mass, unaware of the carnage that awaited them
just a few hundred feet away. But that didn't matter. I knew
what I had to do.
     Billy Jacobs was still changing out of his gym uniform
when I arrived. As he buttoned the last few buttons on his
shirt, he looked up and saw me.
     "My God, Jake... what happened?!" His jaw dropped as he
took in the sight of me. I quickly glanced in the mirror
above the sink. I was covered in blood. My hair was matted
with it. My face was completely drenched. My clothes were
red. It dripped from the end of my nose. It dripped from my
earlobes. I could taste its bitterness on my tongue.
     I withdrew the gun from its hiding place.
     I watched as Billy Jacobs, the star quarterback of the
football team, the most popular guy in the senior class, the
last person in the school that anyone wanted to fuck with,
turned white as a ghost. The color left his face in a split
second, and his eyes grew wide. Seeing me covered in blood
was the first stage of shock. Seeing the gun was the second.
     I took advantage of his panicked state and grabbed him
into a stranglehold. Pressing the cold, steel barrel of the
gun to his temple, I heard the puppy-like whimpering of a
pathetic coward.
     "Billy, do you remember, in second grade, when you first
started to beat me up and take my lunch money each day?"
     He gave no response, other than a sobbing whimper.
     "ANSWER ME, YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!"
     "Yes! I mean, yes! I remember! Please, don't kill me!"
     "And Billy, do you know how many lunch periods I spent
in elementary school, sitting alone, with my stomach
growling, starving each day because you took my money?"
     He began to cry like a baby.
     "Then in junior high, you and your buddies concocted a
brilliant scheme to humiliate me and my first girlfriend in
front of the entire school at the graduation dance?"
     Tears streamed down his face.
     "I can still see your face, laughing hysterically, as I
stood on that stage, after winning 'first prize' in the
'cutest couple' contest. After you snuck up behind me and
pulled my pants down. What did you get out of that? Are you
some kind of FUCKING FAGGOT, BILLY?"
     He shook his head weakly, still bawling.
     "My freshman year, during student council elections, you
were able to get the entire class to boo me during my speech,
single-handedly. Not to mention the fact that you and your
friends had already ruined all my chances of getting elected
by defacing my campaign posters. I spent hours making them."
     "It was a joke, man! I didn't mean to hurt you!"
     "SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DIDN'T SAY YOU COULD TALK!"
     I jammed the butt of the gun into his ribs, and heard
a satisfying crack. He screamed, but stopped talking.
     "And at the junior prom, you pulled the mother of all
pranks on me. You got on the microphone and dedicated the
last dance to 'Jake Woods and his date, Godzilla.' Cheryl
never spoke to me after that night, Billy. She never said
another word to me, ever. Even when she moved away this past
summer. But I guess that was one big joke to you too, eh?"
     Billy gulped, and nodded, weeping like a newborn baby.
     He cringed as I cocked the hammer.
     "Well now, Billy Jacobs, this is our senior year of high
school. It all comes down to this. We either make it this
year, or we BREAK it. And Billy, I'm going to BREAK you. But
first, let me tell you a little joke..."
     One clean shot through the head was all it took. I
kicked his twitching corpse in the teeth as the rigor mortis
set in. They would be here shortly. I had to go. I began to
walk away, and I did not look back. Not for a second.
     Left, right, left, right.