High School Sweetheart

Chapter 42

The weapon distributors.

Those were the people who killed Quincy.

I loaded my gun, and raised it, aiming it through the window. I had become a bit of a sniper. They were in there. I couldn't get them with the sniper rifle. Wiping tears from my eyes, I needed to get in with the pistol, and I had to hurry.

I made no effort to be quiet. Only yesterday I visited Quincy's grave, and he showed up. Wiping some more stray tears that had fallen after thinking of him I entered the building. Quincy, he knew what I was going to do, and tried to stop me. But heck, he's just...just...just a whatever he is, and he's not real. He can't stop me now.

No one can.

I broke the door down, and in one swift movement I killed two soldiers. My teeth were gritted, and I had every right and intention to kill everyone in the building. I was fired up.

Three more men rushed down the hall to see what the commotion was all about, and I put one bullet in each of their brains.

No one will leave this building alive. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

As I shot every person who came through the door, I thought of Quincy.

I shot Bullet after bullet until I was all out.

I growled a curse and threw my gun across the room so it hit the next guy in the face, breaking his nose. Then I grabbed a gun off the dead man at my feet and fired.

I was a little slow, because a bullet grazed my arm. I grimaced, but pain turned to rage, and rage turned to hatred as I fired round after round. It was a dirty deed, killing all these people, but it had to be done.

I was done with the first floor. I ran up to the second floor and cleared it quick.

Male and female soldiers died at the hands of me and my gun. No. Not my gun. The gun I took from the dead man. A dead man whose death I am responsible for.

At the third floor, it was almost empty. I guess I finished them all off at the lower floors.

I adjusted the bandana tied around my face, and busted the next door, and spotted their leader. I killed all of his armed gunmen, and then got to him.

"Please don't kill me" He says, hands up in surrender. I sneered, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and leaning him over the window.

"Look down" I spat. He looks down, and yells. "There's your grave" I say, and then pull him back in the window. "Either you kill yourself with a gun, or you jump" I say.

It's torture, and I feel like letting him leave, but then I remember what he did to Quincy. What he injected in me.

The man doesn't kill himself with the gun, he starts sobbing, and I roll my eyes, and shove him out the window.

Some tough guy he is.

I watch his body hit the pavement, sprawled out in different angles.

Suicide.

That's what he just did.

He committed suicide.

That's what it looks like.

I return my gun to its holster, and begin to walk back down.