"Nothing like the unexpected, terrifying death to keep everyone calm and orderly."
Evelynn grabbed her neon orange scissors, pulling the handle between her bony fingers. Her very first victim was a teacher. Loved by everyone in Theodosia High, John Wickerman was the schools popular mathematics teacher. His ability to tolerate idiots was astounding, topped with his signature crystal eyes and wispy blonde hair, Mr. Wickerman could fool any creature on Earth. His targets were the preppy blonde cheerleaders, who ate nothing but organic products and oxygen ions. This was great news for Evelynn, black hair, olive green eyes and tanned skin wasn't Mr. Wickermans ideal snack.
Evelynn shuddered at the idea of a thirty year old man hovering above minors. She thought of her father, who spent a good slice of his life in jail after shaking hands with a five year old. Prejudice was a pain in the ass.
It was 5:00 pm on a Monday, the cheerleaders were in the gymnasium, getting ready for cheer practice. Evelynn ran towards Mr. Wickermans' office, hiding inside his burgundy walk in closet. In less than five minutes, Mr. Wickerman entered his office. Evelynn gripped her scissor, ready to pounce on Mr. Wickerman, but he was not alone. He was accompanied by Brenda Meyers, another pea brained bulimia infected blonde. Evelynn smirked, her scissors was going to feast on the entrails of both Brenda Meyers and John Wickerman. She leaned against the burgundy doors, listening to their conversation. The tone of Mr. Wickermans voice was sickly sweet.
"Honey sugar cake, please massage daddy." Evelynn shuddered as Mr. Wickerman lifted his shirt, revealing his hairy chest. Evelynn felt sorry for Brenda, second guessing her thoughts of stabbing her. Brenda raised her eyebrow, disgusted and appalled by the amount of gel Mr. Wickerman used to keep his chest hair facing upwards.
"We didn't agree to this," Brenda walked up to the door, arm twisting the doorknob. Mr. Wickerman opened his drawer, pulling out a revolver.
"It was part of the damn contract." Mr. Wickerman shook his head, sighing. "Does no one read the damn contracts?" Evelynn squinted, peering through a small gap in the closet. Mr. Wickerman was inches away from Brenda. He pointed the revolver on her forehead. She squealed, eyes widening.
"I don't pay you twenty damn dollars just to get this attitude." Her arms were shaking. Brenda looked like a washing machine, body vibrating and teeth clattering. Evelynn felt the need to do something. As for now, all she could do was wait and watch the shit-show unravel.
After five minutes of standing still and watching Mr. Wickerman argue with Brenda and use the word 'damn' too many times, Evelynn felt the sudden urge to urinate. She crouched down, careful not to trip on any boxes. This was difficult to do in the dark and Evelynn left her glasses at home. Her leather boot nudged a box and out came several documents. This commotion caused Mr. Wickerman to pull the trigger and shoot Brenda Meyers on her hip. Brenda's mouthed formed an 'O' and only the faint sound of breathing escaped her lips. Mr. Wickerman rushed to her side, using his left arm as a cork to stop the blood from coming out. This was very little use and Brenda's face turned paler by the second.
Evelynn opened the closet door, with her scissors on one hand and her algebra test in the other. She pursed her lips. Mr. Wickerman stared at her, shaking his head violently.
"I didn't mean to kill her, I swear." Evelynn nodded, smiling. She grabbed his revolver aiming it at his hairy chest, pulling the trigger.
"Let God be the judge of that."
-End of Chapter One; Stabbity-stab-stab-
ESTÀS LLEGINT
Playing God (Short Story)
Aleatòriament(Zia 2019; I wrote this because boredom is overpowering and it motivated me to write this short story. Serve this with chocolate and enjoy.) (2020 Zia; What the fuck was going on in my angsty head? Out of all the places I could've gone to get help...
