Scream Bitch

Stab Eleven

"Put a sock in it!" Santana said between gritted teeth.
She held onto Mr. Schue's hair with one hand, while the other covered his mouth. Quinn had placed the gun away and rolled her eyes. For someone who clearly didn't feel the previous beatings, he sure did complain a lot being shot in the foot, and it pissed Quinn and Santana off even more than what they already were.
His agonising cries turned to a muffled laugh. Although he was in excruciating pain, Mr. Schue was still able to enjoy himself watching the two girls become frustrated with him.
"What's so funny, punk?" Quinn walked towards Santana and Mr. Schue.
Santana slowly removed her hand from his mouth, waiting for the man to speak.
"Nothing important. It's just if you hadn't tricked me to come here, I would've killed Puckerman and Mike tonight." He simply admitted. "Brittany was going to be tomorrow night."
Santana dug her fingers into the back of his head and didn't hesitate to pull at his curly hair. "You leave them alone you stupid asshole."
Santana let go of Mr. Schues hair and rose to her feet, joining Quinn. The two glared down at the man on the ground. They were tempted to keep beating him up, and they knew they would, but they wanted answers right now. They knew Mr. Schue wasn't going to tell them his reasonings, but they thought they could at least find out who he's teamed up with.
Santana gripped onto her bat and held it in an intimidating manner. Quinn stood with her arms crossed.
"Now tell us, who are you partnered with?" Quinn quizzically wondered.
Mr. Schue smirked. Clearly any sort of questions was going to be a challenge. "You may know them, you may not know them."
"We aren't here to play games, dumbass." Santana warned, "Tell us who you're working with or else we'll beat you to death." Now, the three of them knew the last part was going to happen regardless.
"You girls are ballsy. Are your hearts made out of steal all of a sudden?" Mr. Schue laughed.
Quinn nodded, "Let's just go with that." A fake smile creased her face.
"You're hard to deal with, you know?" Santana snorted.
Mr. Schue opened him arms out, "All the pleasure."
The girls scoffed. They seriously just wanted to kill him then and there.
Quinn and Santana turned around briefly and exchanged a small conversation. They had no worries about their teacher coming up behind, i mean, come on, he was shot in the foot! Only a mythical creature could walk that off!
"Let's just beat the answers out of him." Santana whispered.
"He didn't even react the last time he was beaten up, the only thing that got him was the bullet, and even then, he's acting perfectly fine now!" Quinn grew incredibly agitated.
"Let's just kill him now then. forget answers! He said he was going to kill Brittany!" Santana pleaded, she desperately wanted to end his life.
Quinn gave her a stern expression, "He's going to kill more people than just Brittany.... Okay, fine, we can deal with the other person when the time comes."
The two girls turned around and both crossed their arms. They watched Mr. Schue sit still, as calmly as possible. Santana unfolded her arms and held the bat by her side.
"Alright, listen here, buddy, Q and i couldn't care less about killing you-although i'm positive you already know that." Santana made a ticking sound with her mouth.
Mr. Schue exaggeratedly nodded his head. He seriously couldn't care less about what they wanted to do to him.
"We were thinking about torturing you," Quinn said as she pulled her gun out, "But i think i'd rather get this done and over with. No offence, i don't want to see your face anymore." Quinn hoisted the gun up and positioned it correctly, making sure to stare Mr. Schue in the eye.
With one pull of the trigger, she was about to end someone's life. But the young girl hesitated, the longer she looked into Mr. Schue's eyes, she couldn't pull the trigger. Turns out, shooting someone in the foot is completely different than shooting someone in the forehead, especially when you're making eye contact.
Quinn dropped her arm to her side and exhaled loudly. She couldn't kill someone. She'd never be able to end someone's life.
Mr. Schue laughed mockingly. He was pleased to see her back out of such a big decision.
"Come on, you just made a speech! You're not going to back out now, are you?"
Quinn's face flared up and turned a soft red. She grew frustrated and disappointed in herself. Santana looked at Quinn. The girl moved her arm and placed her hand on the gun, offering to do the bloody work for her.
Reluctantly, Quinn allowed Santana to take the gun from her. Santana moved the gun slightly upwards, making sure it was directly lined up with Will Schuester's face.
Mr. Schue made sure to keep eye contact. He wanted to do all he could to make these girls feel uncomfortable with what they were committing to.
But Santana didn't hesitate, in one second, she pulled the trigger. And the two girls watched as their former teacher collapsed to the ground. Blood gushed from his forehead, surrounding his upper half of the body.
Santana turned to Quinn and handed her the gun. "Job's done. Now let's get out of here before some stupid underpaid worker comes back here." Santana placed her bat back where she'd originally pulled it out from.
Quinn gave her a look but decided not to argue. The two teens casually walked out of the small ally-way-like corridor and walked through the golf course. They got a few looks from people who didn't see them prior, but no one decided to question them.
They were incredibly thankful the music was blaring.