Smoldering Children love their fun.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a small reenactment of sorts in honor of one of my favorite TV shows of all time :)

Submitted: May 31, 2012

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Submitted: May 31, 2012





The library is so silent... too silent. The man that is very friendly and usually behind the counter is currently shelving books. There’s a certain order about how he shelves them, perfectly and alphabetically backwards. A burly football player and his sweet, sparkling cheerleader girlfriend are giggling and studying and not being too loud as to disrupt the rest of the place. A bookworm is researching for his next science project and last but not least in the library is a dark haired girl reading a book of some sort of dark poetry. And suddenly there’s the sound of pounding footsteps and a door slam. Everyone’s heads snaps up, curious at the sound. The boy in the leather jacket doesn’t stop to explain; he drags over a chair and squealing book cart to barricade the door. Everyone’s looking at him in awe. Finally, he turns around breathing heavily with wide, wide eyes. “There’s a kid…”

He doesn’t get to finish, the sound of a gunshot slices through the air. Everything is suddenly too fast, the library’s inhabitants all look at one another for no particular reason and then hear footsteps. Slow and deliberate steps down the hall. Silent chaos follows as they all scatter and attempt to hide as if they were frightened animals. The door shakes increasingly harder and harder and then stops altogether without a sound, not even a breath. The kids and one adult exhale with relief until they hear an eerie whistle coming from behind the other entrance. The man previously shelving books makes a rash decision and dashes towards the door, clamps onto the handle and obviously not letting the shooter in.

“You know what I hate?” The muffled, soft voice is brazenly clear against the silent background of the library.

There’s a pause followed by a whisper, “locked doors.”

The echo of the buckshot traveling out the chamber sparks in the air. The shot peppers the man’s chest, he falls immediately and the door slowly creaks open.

“Here piggy, piggy, piggy.” He snickers and shoves a shell back into the chamber.

The jock and cheerleader are huddled under the table. The cheerleader is sobbing silently, she lets out a sharp cry and the boy slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, hello.”

Another shot fires out, the sound of a body falling to the ground ensues.

Reloading again, the shooter is whistling his tune once again and steps over the dead girl’s body. He winds around the room in search of his pray. A shot disrupts the silence once again. His footsteps lead towards the couple. He looks at her with tears rolling down his cheeks and mouths, “I’m sorry.”

He makes a break for it from under the table. The armed boy leaps over the table and grabs the runaway by the scruff of his neck and slams him down onto his back with a bone splintering force. The shooter is smiling wickedly, “And in the end,” he sits on top of his chest with a heavy thud, “There was but one sane man among the rest, and he was the man with the blood of the filth upon his hands. For he had done the world a great kindness in his actions and God descended onto the now clean earth and told him that he was now welcome into his arms,” He leans down and pulls out a small firearm from his belt; putting the barrel between his eyes. “Tell me, do you believe in God?” he whispers.

 The boy sobs, “yes.”

“That’s funny, he doesn’t believe in you.” He replies evenly.

Bloody matter spreads across the library flooring and the girl screams in sheer terror of the sight. He looks up at her and asks, “What’s wrong?”

The survivors could hear her screams from across the school. 


© Copyright 2018 Kestra Leigh. All rights reserved.

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