Words Cut the Deepest
Life was a terrible burden for him. He couldn't bear to take it anymore. He wanted out. He wanted everything to just go away. He wanted peace, but overall, he wanted revenge.
The voices where getting too strong. He couldn't stand to ignore them anymore. They have been annoying him for quite some time now, and they wouldn't go away. He hated the voices and tried negotiating with them. Finally, they agreed to go away, but only on one condition.
He smiled to himself at the thought of this. Finally, he'd be in peace. Now, the only thing left to do before his big day tomorrow was sleep, and he did. He slept all night long, dreaming of the next day.
The alarm rung the next morning. He hit it with his left hand, pulled the covers off, and smiled so sickly, it could even make little children cry. He got dressed, and headed off to school, with everything he needed in his bag. He got to school, and went to his usual corner out on the pavilion. He had no friends, which made him smile even more today, because after today, everything will be better.
The bell rung and he got up to head toward 1st hour. He reached his classroom, only to be greeted with the usual name-calling from his classmates.
"Hey look, it's the freak!"
"What a loser!"
"Hey go back to the depths of Hell where you belong, you gothic freak!"
The voices began to get outraged.
Now! Do it now!
"No," he told them. "I have plenty of time to do it. Be patient."
First hour came and went, as well as second and third. Finally, fourth hour came, and he was ready. The tardy bell rang, and the class sat. The teacher put his lesson on the overhead, and the class began copying.
What are you waiting for? Do it while you still have the chance!
"I'll do it when I feel like it," he replied. "And I feel like doing it now!"
He got out of his seat, went to the door and locked it, and began walking toward the front of the room where the teacher sat. He looked at the teacher and stared at him in deep thought.
"Can I help you?" The teacher said, snobbishly.
"Actually, you can," he replied, with a whisper that was full of hate. "I need you to help me to decide whether your death should be bloody or not"
"What!?!?" the teacher shot back, his face white with fear.
"You heard exactly what I said. I'll ask you to please keep your voice down. Now I'll give you one more chance to answer me; blood or no blood? You should be lucky that I am even giving you a choice, but you were my most favorite teacher, after all." He put his bag gently on the table, and took out a gun.
"What are you doing? Please, don't kill me! Please!" the teacher begged and screamed, so loudly, in fact, that every student's head looked up to see what was happening.
"I told you to keep quiet! If that's how you want to treat my kindness, the fine! Blood it is!" He took his gun, raised it to his teacher's frightened face, and shot it three times; once in the head, and once in each eye.
A commotion rang through the classroom, as students tried to flee. They ran to the door, only to find that it is locked.
He began to laugh.
"What is wrong with you, you sick fuck?" one girl with a face full of tears managed to say.
The laughing ceased.
"Sick fuck?" he said in a clod, menacing voice. "Wow that one is actually new! Congrats! You'll be next to die!"
"No!" the girl pleaded, as he took her away from the group, and tied her up in a corner. Shortly after, he grabbed more rope, and managed to tie everyone else up, as well.
He walked back to the girl. "So," he said to her politely, as he sat next to her. "I believe that you're name is Samantha, am I right? That's a very pretty name, and you have such a beautiful face. I have been noticing your beauty for the past ten years, ever since first grade. You have such a beautiful life, huh? Everything is so beautiful about your life. But I just found out that there is one thing that's not so beautiful about you, and that's your nasty potty-mouth. Well, we'll just have to take care of that, now won't we?"
Samantha began to feel relieved as he left her side to go to his bag. Some of her tears dried up, and she was just waiting until someone finally came knocking on the door to save them all, if she would make it that long.
Her fear came back to her, as he came back with a handful of things in his hand. He grabbed hold of her long, blonde hair and pulled her to her feet, tears streaming down her face from fear and pain. "Don't worry," he told her. "It'll all be over shortly."
He took her by the hair again and dragged her onto the teacher's desk, pinning her down with handcuffs and ropes. He took the cloth the he used to gag her out of her mouth, and she began to scream.
"Help me! Help us! Please! Somebody help!!!"
He replaced the cloth back into her mouth, in fear that someone might hear her. He turned around again, and dug in his bag. Samantha looked around toward her friends, who were all tied and gagged. She looked over at her boyfriend, told him the she loves him with her eyes, and he understood. He turned away, because he wouldn't be able to stand seeing what was going to happen.
"Ah!" the boy said. "I've found it!"
He walks back to the girl, and shows her what he has in his hand. It's a staple gun. He attempts to remove the cloth again, and the girl begins to scream.
"Stay away from me! No! You psychotic bitch!"
"There you are with that mouth again! But don't worry; we'll take care of that very soon!"
He steps toward the girl and grabs hold of her face. She is still screaming, but he doesn't care. He's only concerned with what he's about to do. He grabs the staple gun and brings it to her face. He lowers it a little from her eyes, and realizes what he's about to do. She cries and tries to scream, but he pins her lips together with his fingers, bringing the staple gun closer and closer. The boyfriend sits in the corner, turned away and full of tears. The boy presses the cold steel against her lips, and with the sickest smile, he pulls the trigger, once, twice, five times against her bleeding lips. Over and over again, the girl screams with pain, but can't get a word out. She is overwhelmed with the pain. Soon, she begins to lose all consciousness of what she is doing, and begins to pull her lips apart, managing to yank two steel staples out, allowing the bare meat in her lip to hang out.
"Oh no," the boy says sadly. "It seems as if two of your staples came out and oh my goodness! That is a mighty big piece of meat hanging out of your lip. Maybe, we need to re-staple it, but first, I have an idea. He walked over to the boyfriend, who was still huddled in the corner, and pulled him by his hair. He brought him over to his girlfriend, who was bleeding massively. The boyfriend finally sees her lips, and he couldn't take it anymore. His stomach was overwhelmed with the blood and gore. He bent away from his girlfriend, and threw up inside of his mouth, because the cloth was keeping the mess from escaping.
Eventually, the boy took the cloth out of the boyfriend's mouth, rinsed it out, and put it back into his mouth. Sick with the feeling of nausea and depression, the boyfriend looked at his girlfriend again, who was staring back at him.
"Aw, isn't that so sweet," the boy said in a babyish voice. "This is the exact reason that I decided to do what I'm about to do."
He grabbed the boyfriend's hair again, and brought it to Samantha's face. The pain looked so unbearable for her, and the boy new this. He brought the boyfriend's face closer to his girlfriend's and said, "Kiss her. Give her one last kiss, and maybe the pain will go away from the both of you. Kiss her." He took the cloth out of his mouth.
"B-b-b-but h-her lips are s-s-so..."
"So what?" the boy interrupted. "I thought you loved her! Wouldn't you do anything for her? Then kiss her, and make the pain go away."
The boy pushed on the boyfriend's head, and made the couple's lips touch. He pushed harder and harder against guy's head, adding more pain to Samantha. They couple began to cry as he applied more pressure every second. It seemed like an eternity before the boy finally let go of the couple.
"Now, didn't that feel nice?" he asked as the boyfriend lied on top of his lover, their lips still touching. "Ok. Making out time is over, now get off of her!"
He yanked the boyfriend by his hair again, and threw him aside, accidentally ripping off the piece of meat from her lips.
"Don't worry! I'll fix it!" he said as he reached for his staple gun, and stapled two more staples into her bleeding lips. By this time, the girl's face was flooded with tears and the tears kept on coming.
The boy noticed this, and said to her, "Why are you crying? I fixed your problem! Are you not happy with my work?"
Sobs were her only reply.
The boy became outraged, and headed toward his bag again. "Fine!" he yelled. "If you're not happy with my help, then I'll make it to where you'll never be happy again!"
He reached into his bag, and pulled out a hammer and some railroad nails. He walked over to the girl, and said, "You're gonna regret everything you ever said or did to me."
He took one nail and the hammer and bent over her face. He took the hammer, reared it back, and brought it down onto the head of the nail, which entered the girl's left eye. Muffled screams of pain where the only sounds in the room, as well as the cries of the students. He then took a second nail, and repeated this for the right eye. One more nail was left, and he placed it right over her heart. He reared back once more, and brought the hammer down, and stopped inches away from the head. He smiled and said to Samantha, "Actually, I have a better idea."
He walked toward the boyfriend again, and pulled him to his feet, dragging him over toward his girlfriend, who was barely breathing. He put the hammer in the boyfriend's hand, and placed the nail back over Samantha's heart. He whispered in the boyfriend's ear, "Drive this nail into her heart, or I will shoot you and feed your intestines to my dog!"
"No," the boyfriend replied in a depressed voice. "I'd rather die than kill the one I love."
The boy looked at him oddly, and then smiled at him slyly. "Fine, if that's what you want, then let it be." The boy grabbed his gun, and in a blink of the eye, the boyfriend was dead, bleeding on the floor. Cries rang out from everyone in the room, except the boy, who was rearing back to drive the last nail into her heart. In the eyes of Samantha's beloved classmates, time seemed to slow down as he hit the head of the nail with the hammer, causing Samantha to breathe her last breath. The boy took Samantha's and her boyfriend's bodies and placed them alone in a corner, allowing the couple to be alone at last o be together forever. He felt as if he was doing a good deed for them, and a smile swept across his face.
He turned around and looked at the sad faces of his classmates. So far, the voice was pleased, but the boy needed to finish his plan. He said aloud to himself, "Look at all of these problem-filled people. Don't worry; I'll take care of every single one of their problems."
He then spoke to them. It was only one word, but that was enough to frighten even the bravest of all men. The boy looked upon his crowd of problem-filled classmates and ask them in the sickest voice he's made so far, "Who's next?"
(Sorry about all of the errors, but I wrote this late one Sunday night!)