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Tragic Parallel

Author's note: I hope people will think about the working's of a dark mind, of how our society puts a grave...  Show full author's note »
Author's note: I hope people will think about the working's of a dark mind, of how our society puts a grave pressure on kids to uphold odd standards. I was inspired by the works of Fydor Dostoevsky and Gus van Sant.  « Hide author's note
Chapters:   « Previous 1 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 11 Next »


The bell rang.
With an unsettling clamor, the last students took their seats. The teacher stood, her mouth opening to begin the lesson. Blood sprayed the blackboard, the teacher’s sentence never finished. Gasps filled every last breath of air, desk legs grinded against the floor as children scrambled to hide under them. A few ran to the door, but three flashes, only their blood reached the handle. The boy walked down the aisle of the desks, killing those underneath like a dignified executioner. Any who struggled, he shot. Remorse hid from the scene, the room stale with only two odors: fear and pleasure.
Down the hall, shrieks; down the hall, more corpses, the shiny linoleum floor now glossed in a coat of blood; where once the boy once the boy would turn his head to clusters of babbling students, he now turned to truly lifeless, soundless piles of flesh.
A sharp beleaguering laugh, replaced by an exhilarating scream. A procession the boy had been awaiting, an odd silence only broken by the glorious sounds of agony; he felt the eyes upon him from the few bound by terror on the floor, of from the foolish hiding places emitting frantic, hushed whispers. But the emperor strode on. He came to a classroom, door locked. An unfortunate shadow flickered, and the boy shattered the glass window slit in the door, opened it from inside. And how beautiful it was, the sight before his very eyes. It was he, whose stop is only second to the school itself, he who embodied the falsehood, the epidemic of ignorance, father of stupid laughter, of low self-esteem. A breeder of human waste. What better way to cripple the machine by destroying a crucial cog? How deserving it should be, too, that covering this putrid whelp, frozen in the flashing of life before their eyes.
Not far off, along the wall, a student finished scrambling through a broken window. The adversary stands, eyes to the window, immediately he slumps back to the ground. The two girls emit a blood curdling shriek, the last to ever cross their lips. The last to be heard by the emperor.
Chapters:   « Previous 1 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 11 Next »

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This book has 4 comments. Post your own now!

CammyS said...
Dec. 3, 2012 at 7:57 am
This was unbelievable. I can't believe you wrote this, for, as MayaS. says, your writing blows my mind. The characters sound so real, with distinct voices but yet both so real. One suggestion I can think of is for you to alternate the characters, do the emperor (I can't remember his name) at home, then Clayton at home. The emperor boarding the bus, Clayton boarding the bus. Also wouldn't everybody be in their classrooms at the time, instead of out in the halls? Amazing work, simply a... (more »)
Romanovich replied...
Dec. 3, 2012 at 6:22 pm
Thank you, I appreciate it! As far as the perspectives go (the emperor is nameless) the original formatting was four pages for each perspective, each written straight with no chapters.  Then this site wanted me to split it into chapters, so I just took out snap shots capable of describing in one word.  That probably altered the way it reads quite a bit.
CammyS replied...
Dec. 5, 2012 at 7:30 am
Ah, that does make more sense.
MayaS. said...
Dec. 2, 2012 at 2:20 pm
1st: Your writing blows my mind. 2nd: Your writing blows my mind. 3rd: Your writing blows my mind.  

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