[Get out your favorite pen, pencils, or even colored markers and write using them!]
That’s not even a prompt! I don’t even physically write! But, whatever. I’ll make do. And I’ll even type it all with the eraser end of a pencil! Okay, maybe not that last part.
“C’mon, bitch! Throw ‘em fists! Bitch, you’re probably too scared!”
“I’ll fuck you up, boy! Better start runnin’ now before I know yo teeth out!”
Before he knew it, Harrison was on his feet and taunting his classmate, ready to partake in fisticuffs.
“Students, relax or I’ll send you both to the office! And if I have to break you guys up, and you hit me, then I’ll press charges!”
Harrison barely took notice of his tiny English teacher getting in-between himself and Kyle, the shit-talking piece of shit who didn’t know his place. Red filled the boy’s vision as he mentally and physically prepared himself to knock Kyle down in only a few moves, wanting to look badass in the videos his classmates were taking. Besides the few students, like the nerd with glasses in the corner, in the large classroom who really didn’t care enough to stop writing their assignment, most of his peers stood up and raised their phones into the air above other kids’ heads so as to get the best view of the fight.
“You both are seventeen, retards! Fight here and you’ll go to jail! Do it after school behind Walmart!”
However, one of the few students who cared enough to protest to the boys’ behavior—Rachel—quickly moved past the tiny and angry English teacher to physically block the two boys.
“And you’ll only get in tons more trouble if you even accidentally bump Ms. Undeya!”
Rachel’s stern expression and tall build forced the two to halt in place, her eyes radiating a fury equal to those of the boys on either side of her. All the while Ms. Undeya screamed in the background.
Ignoring the tiny teacher, Harrison looked up at the basketball player, then back at Kyle. He was tempted to spit at the piece of shit’s face, but Rachel was probably a decent bit stronger than him and wouldn’t mind wrestling him down. Plus, he was pretty sure she did a little bit of karate at some point. His chances of beating down Kyle while Rachel interfered were minuscule without weapons being involved…and he wasn’t going to risk bringing sharp lengths of metal into play—cuts took way longer to heal than bruises and generally evened the playing field.
“I’ll be waiting for you after school, pussy.” Harrison taunted again, pointing a finger at Kyle, who sneered in response.
Harrison returned to his seat, disappointed jeers and his teacher mentioning planning to write him and Kyle up in the background.
“And kill each other while you’re at it.” Rachel snorted, before sitting back down.
The classroom’s atmosphere remained quite tense for a while after the event as Ms. Undeya scribbled write-ups at her desk, steam practically shooting from her ears.
Then, it happened.
Everyone in the classroom, including the teacher, all buckled at the same time, bangs resounding as the students’ heads fell to their desks. Ms. Undeya wasn’t as lucky. Since she was standing at her desk when it occurred, she ended up falling to the ground and hitting her head on the wall on her way down.
The first to recover was, unsurprisingly, Rachel, as she made her way to their frail teacher’s side to check her condition.
Soon after Rachel, Harrison regained his senses, and a smile formed on his face as he stood up, pulling the knife out of his backpack. As far as he could tell, some higher being just released a global message to all humans of Earth, informing them that they would face no repercussions for anything they did within the next twelve hours. Just like that movie series, but enforced by what could possibly be a god.
However, the details mattered not to Harrison. What mattered was that he didn’t have to wait five hours until his fight with Kyle. As soon as the boy began making his way to his adversary, he realized that he wasn’t the only one to think of such a thing. Kyle also stood up to take care of his business as soon as he could. Then, his gaze landed on Harrison’s blade, causing his eyebrows to shoot up before he frantically began fidgeting with his belt.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Harrison thought as he jumped forward to stop Kyle. But, he was too late, as the grip of a pistol appeared from Kyle’s pants line. It was at that moment Harrison knew: he’d fucked up.
Then, the most unexpected thing possible happened.
A gunshot resounded through the classroom, but nothing hit Harrison. The boy watched as the nerdy glasses kid leaped from a student’s desk and planted his foot in Kyle’s face, bringing him to the ground and causing his bullet to harmlessly strike the wall on the opposite side of the classroom.
If the other students hadn’t been shocked enough by the divine message, or by the weapons that were suddenly pulled out, they were definitely floored after seeing the nerd stab his pencil into Kyle’s neck.
Harrison watched, utterly frozen and flabbergasted, as the kid with glasses whose name he didn’t remember used his free hand to grip and squeeze Kyle’s neck—a crack sounding out soon after.
The boy couldn’t process the scene even after the nerd turned to look him in the eye, his hand still around Kyle’s neck. The next instant, the nerd was upon him. Harrison, confused, tried swinging his knife in the nerd’s direction, but wasn’t in an advantageous position and had his arm easily blocked.
One moment later and Harrison’s vision blacked out as he was slammed into the floor by his peer. The next thing he felt—the pencil piercing his throat—tipped him over the edge into madness. Harrison then wasn’t in the right mind to understand that his trachea had been crushed soon after.
Psylo let a breath out through his nose as he stood up and pulled his writing utensil out of Harrison’s dying body. Then, without wasting another second, he shot back to Kyle, who still wriggled and spasmed—his death throes. Psylo gingerly picked up the pistol from off the floor beside Kyle and made sure that it was real. When he confirmed that it was, he gave Kyle one final kick before replacing his pencil with the pistol and making his way to the front of the class, where Ms. Undeya was still recovering from her head trauma. Rachel shot to her feet while dragging the teacher away as soon as she noticed the boy—whom she previously thought was too socially awkward to handle an argument because he never spoke—approached her.
“Look, I have nothing against you, so-“ She quickly let out, backpedaling toward the classroom door.
“Worry not.” Psylo smiled, lifting the gun to point at Rachel. “Just step away from the door. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee your safety, which will be much easier to do now that I acquired this trinket.”
The basketball player froze in place, her eyes wide as she gulped her saliva and began trembling. She knew she couldn’t take him out when he had such a weapon in his possession.
“’I’ nothing, Rachel. Just sit down at your seat and play on your phone or something as I give instructions to the class.”
Slightly confused, and way more relieved, the blonde dragged Ms. Undeya with her to her seat, as the teacher was either unconscious or barely conscious.
“Now,” the boy began, pushing the teacher’s heavy desk in front of the classroom’s only exit, “you all better listen, because your lives currently rest in my hands.”
Besides Rachel, other students had prepared to bolt out of the classroom, but as soon as Psylo blocked the door, they all settled down, frightened.
“I’ll assume you all understood that divine message and keep this short: I only killed those two brutes because they were stupid and undeserving of life, since they were willing to bring deadly weapons to school.” Psylo used his new gun to point at the now-corpses, which were bleeding profusely and making a mess. “If anyone wants to argue over the ethics of taking preventative measures in this situation, we can do that after I finish this memo. Also, keep your questions until then, because I might very well answer them before then.”
The boy’s eyes were sharp as he looked over every one of the almost thirty students, almost daring them to object.
“Good. That’s what I like to see! You’re all finally well behaved.” He eyed the two groups of students who were often the loudest during class, scaring them. “And don’t think I can’t see those phones. But, don’t worry, you can record as much as you want.” He made another few students jump.
“To get down to business…I will protect you all. Message your parents or guardians or anyone else who asks about you and tell them to worry for their own safety during these twelve hours, because I will guarantee yours.”
Psylo waited for his peers’ bewilderment to fade before he continued.
“We will blockade the door and wait for these twelve hours to pass. I don’t know what the intentions of the celestial entity are, but if they’re doling out points for people’s behavior, then I’d much rather be chaotic good than anything evil. That being the case, anyone or anything that tries to harm those within this classroom will have to answer to me, my pencil, and this gun.”
Another round of gulping as the students looked down at the corpses in the middle of the classroom.
“If you have to piss or shit, have someone hold you while you do it out the window, use a bottle, or do it into your backpack and chuck it outside. Thankfully, we’re on the third floor, because I doubt we’ll be threatened by anything from outside. Now…”
Psylo pulled his phone out of his pocket and began texting.
“Do whatever you want so long as it isn’t anything bad. These twelve hours will be long.”