WAR
THE WORLD IS A WOUND AND I WILL CAUTERIZE IT.
PEOPLE ARE VERMIN AND I WILL exterminate them.
THE STRONG ARE THE WORTHY; THROUGH BLOOD, I WILL LEAD THEM TO SALVATION.
I COME.
HEAR MY BATTLE CRY AND DESPAIR.
MISSY
I see a woman in red who looks like me but isn't me.
She wields a weapon the way a hero holds a heroine—with reverence, with passion, maybe even with love.
She radiates strength like heat off a skillet; she is the epitome of power.
She is everything I am not.
I want to hate her. I want to run from her. But instead I hide from the world and hate only myself.
Hatred is easy because, as they say, practice makes perfect.
WAR
PEOPLE WILL CRY FOR MERCY, BUT I HAVE NONE.
THE RICH WILL SHIELD THEMSELVES WITH MONEY, BUT MY SWORD WILL CUT THROUGH PAPER AND GOLD AND FLESH.
THE POOR WILL FIGHT WITH DESPERATION, AND I WILL LAUGH, AMUSED.
THE WORLD WILL ONCE AGAIN COWER IN THE DARK, WITH ONLY THE GLEAM OF STEEL FOR ITS LIGHT.
RUN TO ME OR RUN FROM ME; EITHER WAY, I WILL CUT YOU DOWN.
THIS IS THE PROMISE OF WAR.
MISSY
She is the sun; looking at her too long will surely blind me. So I will hide my face in my hands as she advances. I will cower in the dark as she destroys everything, starting with...
...my school?
WAR
ADULTS DESERVE NO MORE RESPECT THAN THE WORMS BENEATH THE EARTH; THEIR WISDOM AND EXPERIENCE WILL NOT SAVE THEM.
CHILDREN WILL SCREAM AND THEIR INNOCENCE WILL DIE; THEIR YOUTH AND POTENTIAL WILL NOT SAVE THEM.
I WILL DELIVER THEIR DEATH KNELLS AND LAY THEIR BODIES AT THE FEET OF THE PALE RIDER.
THE WORLD WILL END WITH NEITHER A BANG NOR A WHIMPER, BUT WITH BLOOD.
IN THE END, IT'S ALWAYS BLOOD.
MISSY
Every step she takes booms like thunder.
I come to my feet as she approaches the building—that dread institution of audacity and hormones, all wrapped in a pretty box and topped with a diploma.
Adam and the Matts and Jenna and Trudy and everyone I despise, even my sister. Especially my sister. They're in there and they're going to die.
Bella is in there. Erica too. And so many others. Thousands of people, including my sister. Especially my sister.
I feel pressure growing in me, filling me until I'm going to burst.
WAR
I RAISE MY SWORD HIGH.
THE TIME HAS COME FOR SLAUGHTER.
MISSY
She reaches the stairs that will take her inside the school, my school, and I shout a word, one small word that freezes her in place.
And then she turns, slowly, her red eyes flashing like heat lightning.
God, I am completely terrified, so scared that I feel like I'm dying. But deeper than the terror is my rage.
She wants to hurt everyone in my school, everyone, saint and sinner alike, wants to shred them like confetti and toss their souls upon the wind.
I plant my feet and stare her in the eye as I say it again, the one small word that changes everything:
No.