9 Ways to Die

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Basically a horror story about a man going around killing students in detention.
Warning: it is very graphic!

Submitted: December 09, 2008

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Submitted: December 09, 2008

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9 Ways to Die
I hate children. Every last one of them. Their sniveling cries and screams. Always wanting to prank and joke. So I came up with a plan. A genius plan. To make my dreams come true, to rid the world of all whiny children. To rid the memories of all the teasing, all the punches, blows. Yes. I think I‘ll test it. Yes. Test it on all those annoying children. I need supplies, lots of supplies. It didn’t take long to get them; it never does when you’re prepared. I climbed into my old rickety van with my supplies already placed in the back. I pulled into the school about twenty minutes later. It was going to storm. A heavy rain had begun as the school bell rang. Students exited the school with no idea of what they were escaping. Those lucky kids. No bother I will get my fun. I won’t torment all students as I plan, but the ones in detention will have to do. I crossed my legs and waited for the students to leave.
First things first. I checked that I still had my knife hidden well in my pocket. I gripped the handle smiling as I walked into the school. I went to room 216 and stood at the corner, watching ever so patiently as the teacher spoke his lengthy lecture.
“I shall be back in a minute.” The teacher pressed on. “If I catch anyone out of their seats you shall be punished.” I pressed myself against the wall as the balding teacher left the room.
I followed him closely. Tip toeing so silently that not even he would hear me only two feet away. I grasp the knife tightly and pulled it slowly out of my pocket. Quietly ever so quietly, so that it would not scrape against the leather of my coat. I would do it as he rounded the corner. Yes. Defiantly, then. He rounded the corner and I felt my smile beginning to fall off my face. I swung the knife into the teacher’s back causing him to crash onto the floor. I didn’t stop there. No. Why should I have? It wouldn’t be any fun at all. I opened his mouth and cut out his tongue. That would take care of his screams. I cut long lines into his lips, a fitting image for him. Yes. I cut off his fingers next one at a time until he died. It didn’t look like the movies made it. The light left his eyes and then his body slumped. Dead. Quite dead. Ready or not children here I come.
I pulled the dead body to the classroom smiling as his blood lined the hall. I laid him against the door and knocked. A boy, tall and thin with copper hair opened the door slowly. He screamed. Not of me of course. No. I was down the hall hidden behind a stone pillar. He backed into the room and closed the door. They were whispering. I could see it now. Yes. Whispering. Fear in their voices. I didn’t stay to witness their fear. I needed to finish my plan. I went to my van pulling out six boxes. I placed on a desk in a class room located near the gym. I crept back to the classroom holding the frighten students. I had to hold back a scream of delight. They were fighting. Breaking up. Yes. They were doing my work for me.
I slinked back to the stone pillar and watched ever so silently as the students walked hesitantly out of the room. Such stupid children. Don’t they ever watch the movies? Rule #1: Never spilt up. I smiled, it would be their lost. I snuck up after the copper haired boy and the thin girl. I followed them down the hallway. With no one insight I brought my knife down on the boy. He fell with a scream. I grabbed the girl by the hair and the boy by the back of his shirt. I dragged them slowly to the classroom near the gym. They screamed and kicked the whole way, but I was stronger. I threw them inside the room and shut the door silently behind me. I stabbed my knife into the girl’s chest. She fell to floor in pain. I reached for a box on the desk, pulling out rope. I tied her hands behind her back and then, just to make sure she couldn’t escape, to the teacher’s desk. I did the boy next. He was harder. He kept fighting, but after a few hits he fell silent.
I went back to the desk and grabbed the rest of the boxes. I brought them next to the girl and boy. I opened the box and shook out its contents. Ten tarantulas fell onto their bodies. Now what else can I do? I grabbed two and stuffed them in their mouths. They screamed. Yes. Scream. Shout. Cry. I placed a long strip of duck tape over their mouths. I left them like that. Tied up with the most poisons’ breed of tarantulas.
I went searching for the other two. They weren’t hard to find. No. They stood at the main door trying to pull the lock loose. Nice try kids, but they won’t open without my key. Being a janitor does have its benefits. Good luck. I crept up behind them and sliced their necks. I dragged their dead bodies out to the flag pole. It a minute of planning, but I hung their bodies with the rope and rose them to the top of the pole.
Quietly. Ever so quietly. I entered the building once more. I locked the door and went searching. I found the last two kids. A boy and a girl. I had two more tricks up my sleeves. I snuck up on the boy and knocked my knife against his head, sending him into unconsciousness. I dragged him to the cafeteria. I tied him to the fridge and walked away. Soon he would wake and my little knife bomb, I set composed of earlier, would go off. Cutting. Slicing. Dicing. Every organ in his dumb little body.
Now for the girl. Yes. She would be easy. Oh, so easy. I found her at the LGI. I grabbed her from behind and dragged her outside. She struggled against me as I tied her left arm and leg to a tree. I used another rope and tied her right arm and leg to the back of the lawn mower. I revved up the engine. I drove forward. She screamed. I stopped the engine. Still in one piece. I got back on the lawn mower and drove forward. She screamed twice as loud this time. There was a tearing sound. I turned around. The little girl’s body was split in two right down the middle. Her blood coated the grass. I clapped my hand just as the bomb in the kitchen went off. I walked inside and checked my damage. The floor was covered in blood. Thousands of knifes littered his body. No part of his skin was not untouched. I smiled and walked back outside.
I climbed back into my van and drove home. I woke up the next day and checked the news. I smiled. The T.V. read that a maniac killer was on the loose, targeting children. I’m not crazy. No crazy people don’t make it on the news.  I grabbed my newspaper from off the table and sipped my coffee. What a good day this has turned out to be. I smiled.


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