The Murder Story

The Glitter Bomb

Dylan stood in the bathroom staring at the bomb. It was surprisingly small. Only about half a foot long and a few inches wide. So small yet so much damage. His eyes were bloodshot, the drugs coursing through his body. The best high of his life. And the last. This little bomb had the power to kill twenty people at close range and injure tens more according to Pia, the assassin who roped him into this deal. He held the detonator in his left hand, just a button. A little white button. He was a little disappointed that it wasn't big and red, but all the same, it was such a small and innocent thing that could do so much damage.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself, then a small beep from his phone told him it was time. He stepped out of the stall and pushed his way through to the door. No-one noticed the small bomb.

He spotted Maeron and Georgia talking over by the lockers and he started shoving his way toward them. People started noticing the bomb. He pressed the button just as he reached the duo before anyone could stop him. There was a bright white flash and a bang so loud it deafened him. Then next thing he knew he was lying on the ground surrounded by a pool of his own blood and was that glitter?

It drifted in the air around and added a pink sparkle to his dark blood. His chest was a mess, a giant hole blown into it, and he could feel himself fading quickly. But something was wrong. Well, more wrong. People were looking down at him quizzically. They weren't dead or injured, just watching, while the glitter slowly began to fall, catching in their hair.

"She lied," he muttered to himself before the pain became all too much and the darkness crept in.

...

Maeron looked down at the mess on the floor and felt the sprinklings of glitter fall onto his nose, he got a whiff of glitter by mistake and immediately began coughing. The pain in his throat was so great, he hardly noticed the others around him coughing too.

Georgia fell first, being the closest she had taken a large whiff of pink sparkles and she wheezed and clawed at her neck before finally collapsing into unconsciousness as she slowly suffocated.

Maeron would have been next but he didn't fall. Instead, just as the pain was becoming unbearable, it stopped and he doubled over, sucking in lungfuls of air. He took one last deep breath and stood up straight again, a strange lust in his eyes. With glitter in his hair and insanity in his eyes, Maeron launched himself at Leah, who was coughing like crazy as the glitter swelled her throat. She hadn't gotten too much though, and she could still breathe a little, and if treated in the next hour or so, she probably would've been fine. However, Maeron's hands around her throat starved her of what little oxygen she was getting.

There was nothing anyone could do to help, as they were all choking themselves on the poisonous yet pretty sparkles that still lingered in the air. In seconds, Leah's face was purple and she was struggling to stay awake, a battle she soon lost, and a few seconds later, Maeron released her, and she fell to the ground dead.

Despite their preoccupations coughing, those closest to him began to back away. Mary wasn't fast enough and Maerons yanked her head to the side with a satisfying pop. She crumpled to the floor, and Maeron set his sights on Ethan and Neringa.

There was nothing on his mind now but killing. Blood and gore and limp bodies were his only goal. Without even looking he reached into Dylan's bloody mess of a chest and retrieved a large chunk of shrapnel. It wasn't particularly sharp, nor the best shape for a knife, but nevertheless, he jammed it into Ethan's neck and yanked it back out, blood spraying everywhere, then began hacking at Neringa's chest, as she gagged and choked on glitter and blood.

Carla and Lauren had been unaffected by the glitter but had used the gory distraction to start a fight. Hair was pulled, faces scratched and clothes ripped until eventually, Carla emerged victorious after smashing Lauren's head against the floor one too many times.

While Maeron used a history textbook to bludgeon Amy to death, Carla and Georgia Ingle began to fight, and again, Carla emerged victorious, blood matting her hair and a murderous look in her eyes.

Carla's final kill was Saoirse, who was busy coughing and clawing at Carla's shirt for help when she was shoved backwards a little too hard and impaled herself on a broken bench. Pieces of the said bench were also being used by Maeron to messily slit Aoife Kinseala's throat. Slit is the wrong word. More like tear viscously apart. And that bench piece then went through the back of Stephanie's head.

Leaving Carla and Maeron alone in a sea of blood and bodies. Carla didn't win that fight, it ended with a pen in her eye and Maeron standing over proudly, a grin wide across his face.

Then an arrow in his heart.

Pia picked up her gear and pulled the phone out.

"It's done," she said looking out at the carnage from the TG room.

"How was it?" she asked Pia

"Messy. But efficient. They're all dead and I only had to kill one."

"Good, you already know your next job, so do it today."

"Sure."

The phone was flipped shut and Pia sighed at the carnage.

She climbed out of the window to avoid getting blood on her socks. Yes, she was an assassin, but blood on your clothes was a nightmare to wash out, and not many dry cleaners around could do it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school...

"You should really head over to the lockers, Mr Kehoe was asking after you," Arturs told Giedrius.

"Nice try but I'm aware of the massacre currently happening and I don't want blood on this jumper. But don't worry, we'll get our fight. And I'll pull your head off with my bare hands."

"I'd like to see you try," Arturs replied and turned back down the corridor, there was more killing to be done today and he had some planning to do.

I finally wrote it again! Woo! BTW if it didn't happen like I said it would a while ago it's because I can't read my notes. But we are now 14 people closer to killing the entire of the 2019/2020 3rd year class!

See you in another three months when I finally decide to write again.