Oracle
Smash Master
My first WWYP entry. I had a lot of fun with this. Grade harshly
WARNING:Lots of swear words. Read at your own discretion (Mods, if you want me to take away the censor dodges, just say the word)
Retribution
"Yo, Rob, you forgot your math spiral!"
I looked back at John. Sure enough, my blue math spiral, with all of its crinkled papers protruding from the sides, was clenched in John's hand. "Woah, thanks man," I replied, "I thought I was missing something."
"God, you always forget your stuff," John said antagonizingly as he caught up with me. "How can someone be smart enough to go to Princeton and still forget his books all the time? I'm not always gonna be there to remember shit for you." I punched him in the arm. "Hey! Don't forget, this is the arm that threw you the winning touchdown at last years State finals!" John gloated. "Psh, that was all me. You just happened to be there at the time." I retorted, laughing. I quickly stuffed the book in my bag as we went off to lunch.
After getting our food, we sat down at our table outside, the sun warming us from the school‘s AC. Will and Preston were already there, making crude sexual jokes, as usual. “Hey Rob, glad that you came, just wanted to let you know how good Preston’s mom is in bed” said Will after I sat down. “Shut the hell up!” Preston retorted jokingly, trying to push Will out of his chair. ‘Those two are really immature, especially for seniors,’ I thought. But then again, so was I.
After eating lunch, we began to traverse to our normal after-lunch hangout: Mr. Martin’s English classroom. “Just think of it guys,” John began, but cut his sentence short off as soon as he saw Alex walking down the hall, hunched over with his dark hair combed down over his left eye, wearing his long, dark trench coat. We all hated Alex; he was an emo nerd who did nothing but sit in the corner of the school all by himself. He had absolutely no friends at the school and was bullied constantly. The only reason that no one felt sorry for him was that he thought himself better than everyone else based on nothing.
“Hey everybody, its Alex! Aren’t we all so glad that he’s graced us with his presence in this fine hallway today?” said John, for the sole purpose of pissing off Alex. To our surprise, he looked up with a grin at us. However, his smile quickly shrank into a scowl when Will pushed him into the wall. Alex scurried away. “Anyways, as I was saying,” continued John as we entered the English classroom, “Just think. Only two more months of easy classes and then off to college, where we can do whatever we want.” Not that we needed anything else. Our lives were great. We all were known as football stars around the state and were already accepted by our colleges of choice. We could have any girl in the school just by mentioning that we thought they were cute. Life was good.
But at that moment, I felt something was wrong; an unexplainable instinct washed over me. As we sat down, something flashed in the corner of my eye. I turned around to look at the door, and Alex was standing outside, peering into the window of the door. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then I realized that other than the drone of my friends’ conversation about sex and booze, there was absolutely no sound in the room. We were completely alone.
Alex burst into the room, throwing the door open. Suddenly all was still. Will, John, and Preston all stopped talking to acknowledge this interruption. “What the fuck do you want, emo piece of shit?” yelled Will, “You want me to kick your ***?” Alex merely stood there, hunched over with a look of fury in his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Alex started to speak in a low, quiet voice: “I hate you bastardss. You’ve beaten me up, stolen things from me, made fun of me, even trashed my car. Now it’s time for you to feel my pain.” Before anyone realized what was going on, Alex slowly eased back the side of his coat to reveal a Colt revolver. We became paralyzed with fear, knowing that we would die here. Alex brandished his weapon, lifting the antique revolver with a look of pure, unbridled rage on his face. “I have exactly one bullet for each of you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with anger, “Who should I kill first?”
Before anyone answered, Preston pounced on Alex with animal instinct, grabbing the hand that held the gun and slamming it against the wall, causing the gun to fire one of its rounds. He clamped his free hand around Alex’s slender throat, choking him. All of the sudden, Preston’s eyes went wide; his face turned pale and he slowly released his grip on Alex, eventually falling to the floor. Alex retrieved the knife he had been concealing from Preston’s still quivering form, and standing up straight, wiped the blood off of his coat. “Get in the corner! Now!” he shrieked, his shrill voice leaving a ringing resonance in our ears.
We started towards the corner, and Will whispered into my ear, “Try to distract him, I’m gonna make a run for it.” “Are you fucking crazy?” I replied, “He’ll fucking shoot you!” I looked over at Preston’s maimed form. It was clear that he was still alive, but not for long. “He’s gonna shoot us anyways, why not at least try?” I mulled this over in my mind, finally deciding to at least attempt the distraction. I turned to Alex, who was still shaking from adrenaline. “Why us? Why not someone else?” “Because you guys have always tortured me!” he shouted at us. “Everyone treats you like royalty because you’re popular. But you’re nothing but a bunch of ignorant bastards. I’ll show them how wrong they were.” he said, his voice slowly calming down. Just as he was about to continue, Will made a dash for the door, which was on the opposite corner of the door. “Get back here you son of a bitch!” Alex shrieked, swinging the gun up to point at Will. I shut my eyes and screamed, wishing none of this had ever happened. I heard a gunshot, and then silence. I slowly opened my eyes to see what had happened.
Alex was rising off of the ground, where Preston had grabbed his kneecaps to make him fall. Luckily, this caused the gun pointed at Will’s head to miss. Preston was lying next to Alex, feebly struggling to crawl away. Alex leaned over Preston and spit on his face, pointing the gun straight at his arm. Preston roared in pain as the bullet entered the flesh of his arm, splattering blood and tiny bits of bone everywhere. As Preston howled in blinding pain, Alex started walking towards us. “I’ve got one bullet left. Who’s it gonna be?”
I came to the realization that I was responsible for this. I never truly hated Alex, but I had decided to be mean to him just like everyone else. Now, because of this, I held the decision of another man’s life in my hands. “One of you is going to die here. You have two minutes to decide which one lives.” Just then, the police sirens started to blare away. “We have all of the entrances to the language wing sealed and a SWAT team coming to the room. Please surrender” boomed a man’s voice over a megaphone. For a second, I was relieved. The I looked at Alex
His face had developed an insane, angry look. His normally beady eyes were wide with realization, with tears streaming down his face. “I’m going to jail. I’m going to jail,” he said, his voice gradually escalating. “I don’t want to go to jail!” he screeched at the top of his lungs. “Please just let us go,” I begged, “you can’t make it out of this. You’re going to jail whether you kill one of us or not. Please.” I knew someone would die here. “I-I’ve g-gone too far to go back. I’m t-t-taking one of you w-with me.” Alex replied, stuttering his words. At this point, he was uncontrollably twitching and sobbing, his body violently shaking. He could barely hold the gun at this point. Suddenly, John burst out: “Go ahead and do it! fucking ****y! You’re so pathetic. Did you even think this plan out? You’re going to rot in jail for the rest of your life! Did you really want that?” I was astonished. I had never seen John this angry, his passionate love of life trumping his fear of death. Alex sobbed even harder, twisting the gun around to aim at his own head. He closed his eyes.
There was silence. I was too paralyzed with fear to move. “Come on!“ John urgently whispered, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards the door. Alex didn’t seem to notice. Then the loud noise of an armed Swat team banging on the door seemed to awaken Alex, angrier than ever. He let out an inhuman cry of rage and swung the gun around at us.
I shut my eyes, making one last dash for the door.
A shot rang out. I felt a pain in my head.
Then there was darkness.
I awoke, my vision blurred, in the black sleeved arms of a Swat officer. “Are you ok?” he asked. “You fell and smashed your head on the corner of the chalkboard railing.” I looked up, and sure enough, the railing was red with blood, as was my head.
I looked around the room, my vision still a tad fuzzy. I saw Alex in handcuffs being led away by swat members, his eyes wide with fear, still covered with tears and blood. As he passed me, he turned up to look at me, and in an almost inaudible whisper, said “I’m sorry”.
I entered the hallway and saw two still forms on hospital stretchers, being carried towards the rear entrance, and ambulance waiting. I sprinted up to them with all of my strength. I looked down on the stretchers as they were loaded onto the ambulance. On the left was Preston, his arm still oozing scarlet blood. On the right was John. His left eye was missing, replaced with a huge hole filled with blood, brain matter, and pieces of skull. Somehow, he was still breathing. “He’s got almost no chance of survival, and even if he does survive, he’ll be severely brain damaged.” the ambulance attendant explained. “Look, I’m really sorry about your friends.” I walked away.
I had brought this upon myself. I could have stopped it from coming, but I didn’t. I took the path of popularity and self gratification rather than the path of the righteous man.
I walked towards the huge crowd of people. There would be countless apologies and condolences, countless people all trying to make me feel better.
But those are just words. Words that never make a difference.
WARNING:Lots of swear words. Read at your own discretion (Mods, if you want me to take away the censor dodges, just say the word)
Retribution
"Yo, Rob, you forgot your math spiral!"
I looked back at John. Sure enough, my blue math spiral, with all of its crinkled papers protruding from the sides, was clenched in John's hand. "Woah, thanks man," I replied, "I thought I was missing something."
"God, you always forget your stuff," John said antagonizingly as he caught up with me. "How can someone be smart enough to go to Princeton and still forget his books all the time? I'm not always gonna be there to remember shit for you." I punched him in the arm. "Hey! Don't forget, this is the arm that threw you the winning touchdown at last years State finals!" John gloated. "Psh, that was all me. You just happened to be there at the time." I retorted, laughing. I quickly stuffed the book in my bag as we went off to lunch.
After getting our food, we sat down at our table outside, the sun warming us from the school‘s AC. Will and Preston were already there, making crude sexual jokes, as usual. “Hey Rob, glad that you came, just wanted to let you know how good Preston’s mom is in bed” said Will after I sat down. “Shut the hell up!” Preston retorted jokingly, trying to push Will out of his chair. ‘Those two are really immature, especially for seniors,’ I thought. But then again, so was I.
After eating lunch, we began to traverse to our normal after-lunch hangout: Mr. Martin’s English classroom. “Just think of it guys,” John began, but cut his sentence short off as soon as he saw Alex walking down the hall, hunched over with his dark hair combed down over his left eye, wearing his long, dark trench coat. We all hated Alex; he was an emo nerd who did nothing but sit in the corner of the school all by himself. He had absolutely no friends at the school and was bullied constantly. The only reason that no one felt sorry for him was that he thought himself better than everyone else based on nothing.
“Hey everybody, its Alex! Aren’t we all so glad that he’s graced us with his presence in this fine hallway today?” said John, for the sole purpose of pissing off Alex. To our surprise, he looked up with a grin at us. However, his smile quickly shrank into a scowl when Will pushed him into the wall. Alex scurried away. “Anyways, as I was saying,” continued John as we entered the English classroom, “Just think. Only two more months of easy classes and then off to college, where we can do whatever we want.” Not that we needed anything else. Our lives were great. We all were known as football stars around the state and were already accepted by our colleges of choice. We could have any girl in the school just by mentioning that we thought they were cute. Life was good.
But at that moment, I felt something was wrong; an unexplainable instinct washed over me. As we sat down, something flashed in the corner of my eye. I turned around to look at the door, and Alex was standing outside, peering into the window of the door. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then I realized that other than the drone of my friends’ conversation about sex and booze, there was absolutely no sound in the room. We were completely alone.
Alex burst into the room, throwing the door open. Suddenly all was still. Will, John, and Preston all stopped talking to acknowledge this interruption. “What the fuck do you want, emo piece of shit?” yelled Will, “You want me to kick your ***?” Alex merely stood there, hunched over with a look of fury in his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Alex started to speak in a low, quiet voice: “I hate you bastardss. You’ve beaten me up, stolen things from me, made fun of me, even trashed my car. Now it’s time for you to feel my pain.” Before anyone realized what was going on, Alex slowly eased back the side of his coat to reveal a Colt revolver. We became paralyzed with fear, knowing that we would die here. Alex brandished his weapon, lifting the antique revolver with a look of pure, unbridled rage on his face. “I have exactly one bullet for each of you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with anger, “Who should I kill first?”
Before anyone answered, Preston pounced on Alex with animal instinct, grabbing the hand that held the gun and slamming it against the wall, causing the gun to fire one of its rounds. He clamped his free hand around Alex’s slender throat, choking him. All of the sudden, Preston’s eyes went wide; his face turned pale and he slowly released his grip on Alex, eventually falling to the floor. Alex retrieved the knife he had been concealing from Preston’s still quivering form, and standing up straight, wiped the blood off of his coat. “Get in the corner! Now!” he shrieked, his shrill voice leaving a ringing resonance in our ears.
We started towards the corner, and Will whispered into my ear, “Try to distract him, I’m gonna make a run for it.” “Are you fucking crazy?” I replied, “He’ll fucking shoot you!” I looked over at Preston’s maimed form. It was clear that he was still alive, but not for long. “He’s gonna shoot us anyways, why not at least try?” I mulled this over in my mind, finally deciding to at least attempt the distraction. I turned to Alex, who was still shaking from adrenaline. “Why us? Why not someone else?” “Because you guys have always tortured me!” he shouted at us. “Everyone treats you like royalty because you’re popular. But you’re nothing but a bunch of ignorant bastards. I’ll show them how wrong they were.” he said, his voice slowly calming down. Just as he was about to continue, Will made a dash for the door, which was on the opposite corner of the door. “Get back here you son of a bitch!” Alex shrieked, swinging the gun up to point at Will. I shut my eyes and screamed, wishing none of this had ever happened. I heard a gunshot, and then silence. I slowly opened my eyes to see what had happened.
Alex was rising off of the ground, where Preston had grabbed his kneecaps to make him fall. Luckily, this caused the gun pointed at Will’s head to miss. Preston was lying next to Alex, feebly struggling to crawl away. Alex leaned over Preston and spit on his face, pointing the gun straight at his arm. Preston roared in pain as the bullet entered the flesh of his arm, splattering blood and tiny bits of bone everywhere. As Preston howled in blinding pain, Alex started walking towards us. “I’ve got one bullet left. Who’s it gonna be?”
I came to the realization that I was responsible for this. I never truly hated Alex, but I had decided to be mean to him just like everyone else. Now, because of this, I held the decision of another man’s life in my hands. “One of you is going to die here. You have two minutes to decide which one lives.” Just then, the police sirens started to blare away. “We have all of the entrances to the language wing sealed and a SWAT team coming to the room. Please surrender” boomed a man’s voice over a megaphone. For a second, I was relieved. The I looked at Alex
His face had developed an insane, angry look. His normally beady eyes were wide with realization, with tears streaming down his face. “I’m going to jail. I’m going to jail,” he said, his voice gradually escalating. “I don’t want to go to jail!” he screeched at the top of his lungs. “Please just let us go,” I begged, “you can’t make it out of this. You’re going to jail whether you kill one of us or not. Please.” I knew someone would die here. “I-I’ve g-gone too far to go back. I’m t-t-taking one of you w-with me.” Alex replied, stuttering his words. At this point, he was uncontrollably twitching and sobbing, his body violently shaking. He could barely hold the gun at this point. Suddenly, John burst out: “Go ahead and do it! fucking ****y! You’re so pathetic. Did you even think this plan out? You’re going to rot in jail for the rest of your life! Did you really want that?” I was astonished. I had never seen John this angry, his passionate love of life trumping his fear of death. Alex sobbed even harder, twisting the gun around to aim at his own head. He closed his eyes.
There was silence. I was too paralyzed with fear to move. “Come on!“ John urgently whispered, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards the door. Alex didn’t seem to notice. Then the loud noise of an armed Swat team banging on the door seemed to awaken Alex, angrier than ever. He let out an inhuman cry of rage and swung the gun around at us.
I shut my eyes, making one last dash for the door.
A shot rang out. I felt a pain in my head.
Then there was darkness.
I awoke, my vision blurred, in the black sleeved arms of a Swat officer. “Are you ok?” he asked. “You fell and smashed your head on the corner of the chalkboard railing.” I looked up, and sure enough, the railing was red with blood, as was my head.
I looked around the room, my vision still a tad fuzzy. I saw Alex in handcuffs being led away by swat members, his eyes wide with fear, still covered with tears and blood. As he passed me, he turned up to look at me, and in an almost inaudible whisper, said “I’m sorry”.
I entered the hallway and saw two still forms on hospital stretchers, being carried towards the rear entrance, and ambulance waiting. I sprinted up to them with all of my strength. I looked down on the stretchers as they were loaded onto the ambulance. On the left was Preston, his arm still oozing scarlet blood. On the right was John. His left eye was missing, replaced with a huge hole filled with blood, brain matter, and pieces of skull. Somehow, he was still breathing. “He’s got almost no chance of survival, and even if he does survive, he’ll be severely brain damaged.” the ambulance attendant explained. “Look, I’m really sorry about your friends.” I walked away.
I had brought this upon myself. I could have stopped it from coming, but I didn’t. I took the path of popularity and self gratification rather than the path of the righteous man.
I walked towards the huge crowd of people. There would be countless apologies and condolences, countless people all trying to make me feel better.
But those are just words. Words that never make a difference.