One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Darkside

(Not as old)

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Ink smiled brightly, nodding at the teacher's words, and talking animatedly, his hands moving as he spoke. Dream stood beside him, keeping his golden eyelights glued to Ink's hands. He wore the same smile, although his seemed more genuine.

Sitting in the back of the classroom, two heterochromatic eyelights glared at Ink and Dream bitterly. One was deaf, and the other was blind, and he hated them. Ink's signing grew twitchy, and he glanced in his general direction as if he felt the hateful stare. Dream looked over his shoulder, his eyelights locking onto his. They shrunk, and he quickly turned away, ushering Ink towards the door as he 'told' the teacher that they had to leave. She waved, closing the door behind them and turning back to look at her only students.

Cross, Killer, and Freak. Nightmare was missing, which was why Dream had shown up. From what he'd signed, it seemed that Nightmare had gotten sick. Killer, however, had spoken to the goopy monster, and he knew that Nightmare had just decided to not show. He hated ISS(In-school suspension), of course he skipped. "Boys." The three looked up, and the teacher continued. "I'm going to the restroom. Stay here." As soon as she left, Freak muttered something to Killer and the two of them snickered quietly. Cross turned his glower on them, making them shut up. "Mind sharing the joke?", He hissed lowly, and Freak shook his head erratically. Cross scowled, "Too bad. Spill it." Killer elbowed his friend, and the broken monster growled back before he mumbled something. "Speak up, freak." Freak jerked and repeated himself quietly. "Moo." Killer erupted into giggles, choking slightly as Cross gave a sharp laugh and stood up.

Freak began quaking as Cross started towards them, a harsh grin spreading across his face. "Real. Fucking. Funny." Cross punctuated each word with a harsh poke to Freak's chest, chuckling as the other flinched. Just to be an asshole, Cross jabbed the tip of finger into one of the jagged cracks on Freak's head and the monster yanked himself away, giving a pained shout. Ignoring the now bleeding crack, Cross stared blandly at the bloodstain on his fingertip, reaching over and wiping it on Killer's hoodie with a disgusted huff. The tearstained skeleton went deathly still when Cross touched him, his breath sputtering, and he nearly collapsed as Cross backed away. By the time Cross had sat down, the teacher came back, gasping at Freak's bleeding skull and rushing over. "Oh, dear! What happened?" Cross stared at Killer, silently challenging him. Go on. Tell on me. Killer shakily exhaled and smiled at the teacher, "He threw his pencil and it poked him when it fell back down."

Smirking, Cross kicked his feet on the desk in front of him and pulled his hood over his sockets to sleep.

---

Today was the day. Cross smiled to himself as he checked to make sure he had everything. His bag was heavier than usual, but he was too giddy with adrenaline to care. Today was the day.

His grin stayed all throughout the bus ride, up until the bell for lunch rang. He'd already set up everything. His bag wasn't as heavy anymore. He'd been checking his phone between classes, having already texted his few friends. Nightmare, Error, and Epic were all absent that day, as well as Dream and Ink. The closer it got to one, the more Cross's smiled widened. His face was splitting with it when his phone went off. He'd asked to go to the restroom beforehand, wanting to watch the timer hit zero. He had his bag thrown on his shoulder. It was completely empty save for four items. He stared at his phone intensely, a bead of sweat rolling down his skull. One minute left. His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Ready when you are.<<

Cross smiled broadly and took one of the four items from his bag. A mask. It would cover his entire face, and the lens would distort the color of his eyelights. No one would recognize him. His wide smile was hidden as he changed, the grin growing as he strapped the holster to his side. He took out item three, and slipped it into the holster, making sure it was loaded completely. That was his backup. Cross secured it and took out the last item, his smile the widest it's been. He'd gotten it cleaned and checked, multiple times. Besides. He wouldn't want the bullets to jam.

Cross checked himself one final time and opened the bathroom door as he sent a message to the unsaved number and clicked the small button on his screen. His message sent just as the school trembled violently.

>>Now.

Cross slid a magazine into place, the first out of three, and he stalked down the hallway as alarms began blaring over the intercoms. Already, Cross could hear students wailing and shouting in panic. Cross strolled to the school entrance, where his friends were gathered, and shouldered the door open. He greeted them with wide arms, sharing a fistbump with one, before he cleared his throat and spoke. A perk about his mask that he particularly enjoyed, there was a voice changer. The mob snapped to attention, the air filling with tense excitement as the crew listened. Cross pointed over his shoulder and shouted in the most joyful voice he'd ever used: "LIGHT 'EM UP!"

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The end.

Unless you want part two..? Eh, it might happen, or it might not. Or, we can think of this as a continuation of Play With Fire. Who knows.

(I will delete it if you want me to.)