[ WP ] You are a psychopathic school shooter . What is your internal monologue during the act ?

All their pretty faces, lined up one-by one. Two of them shot in the head between the eyes, point blank. They were dead before they even hit the ground. The rest of them were n't so lucky. Living their final lives in agonizing pain while the last drops of blood leave their twitching bodies and the light in their eyes was just fading away. I saw their terrified silent screams plastered on their scared little faces, maybe even screaming for help or wishing for a god. Some of them crawling; searching for an exit which was way too far for their bullet ridden bodies to reach. They did crawl though; my dad always said that I never should underestimate the power of humanity. Humanity likes to survive. But I'm not so human any more, now am I? 
 
 Bang. Thomas down. Those who shared the same fate seemed ages ago. It was only a few minutes. 
 
 I'm walking here, at exactly 1:23 PM, with the gun my grandfather used to hunt deers. He would take his prey home, prepare it for dinner and eat it with the rest of the family. Fucking Christmas, all those fucking dead deers with their dead fucking eyes. Lifeless, like those bleeding on the ground. 
 
 “ Have you ever seen the true face of terror? ”. John said something like that to me, I do n't remember it very well though. He used to play with his little plastic soldiers pretending to be in some made-up war. He heard stories from Iraq or Afghanistan. Our friend, Max, he had a father. He was in the shit. Killing muslims. Max always said that his dad was n't a killer; he was there to bring peace. 
 
 Bang. Colins brains against the wall. 
 
 So his dad was killed by one single bullet. Not in the midst of the heat of the battle, not in a living hell. One bullet by a moroccan kid feeling like a hero. They thought Max' father was there to rape their friends or some shit. And he was dead. Instantly. The news hit home a few days later. It was thursday, Max ran out of the class crying. When I walked home, I saw John sitting in the garden with his little dolls. There was one action man with a towel on his head holding some sniper rifle pointing towards a truck full of soldiers. One of them, a bald one, had a tiny red dot on his forehead. Max' dad was bald. 
 
 Bang. Sara. The love of my life. I thought she would scream, but she did n't. She gagged in her own blood and it looked pathetic. Fucking Sara, better off in any other world that is n't this one. 
 
 Yeah, maybe John was the real psycho. When we were younger he was the one killing rats. He would catch one in his complicated traps and take them to the attic where he would burn them till they were dead. Same lifeless eyes. 
 
 Bang. Irene, shot in her tits. It looked kind of funny, but I could n't laugh. I am a serious man. 
 
 We had chicken yesterday, it was good. The only time the food her tasted like anything real. It tasted more real than those fucked up arrogant mates of mine trying to be smart. They were trying so fucking hard to be someone in this world, yet they were working towards some cosmic enlightenment. Paradise of the 21th century. Using their brains just to prove how much better they are than me. Well good luck using them when they are being splattered on the wall. Can you hear me fuckers? Can you fucking hear me laughing? Ca n't use your stupid fucking brains anymore, now can you? I am the messiah of the lost and forgotten, those who will study liberal arts and spend the rest of our lives thinking about moviestars and famous rock-n-rollers. How we could be like them while we flip burgers. I am the one with the fucking brain and you ca n't see why. You ca n't smile anymore, you had no use to begin with. Fuck you. Fuck You. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. 
 
 Bang. Jerome hit the wall. Bang. Bang. Fuck You. 
 
 It's quiet, like it never would've been otherwise. Do you hear the sound of nothing, Sara? Do you see waves of paradise comforting you, Colin? Thomas, are you dancing with the angels showing them your awesome moves? Irene, are you fucking anyone right now? Are you letting them believe they would love you? 
 
 Sam. Your parents always told you you think too much. Maybe I do. There's no use to let this stream of consciousness continue. I will be demonized in a few hours, some kid will see me as their hero. My parents will be bashed or loved. I do n't fucking care. What does matter is, this world stopped for a second and looked at me for once. It has been a pleasure, you fucking shells. 
 
 Bang. 

