Did you actually read any of the other parts?
Novel Treatments / 31 (Part Nine)
“Part Nine A”
Thomas McDonald stood silently watching the carnage stream through the terribly shattered school campus.
It felt like an amalgamation of his dreams and reality, of his pleasures and his madness.
It felt as if it shouldn’t exist.
His black trenchcoat fluttered in the breeze, flanking his tawny brown hair and the look of innocence mixed with sadistic will on his face.
He paused, watching it.
It was as if the school reality he had lived through daily had been mixed with the sharp fantasies of videogame-like violence that he had always dreamed of.
However they had been nothing but fantasies.
He currently had a distinct distaste of actually engaging in these riffraff, deeming him higher than the normal Seeker grunt who was charging in guns blazing.
No, Mr. Lihin had sent him personally to coordinate the attack, and he took this role very seriously.
Lihin had rescued him out of mediocrity! There was nothing that Thomas despised more than mediocrity.
He had been a mediocre fool. Average physically, average mentally. He often thought there could be nothing more disgusting than that.
But he had been made into something far more important now, and as he watched the black-robed Seekers surging around the school wildly firing their weapons, he couldn’t help but smile and tap the hilt of his own katana.
It was at his hip, tied with a sash, and to him it represented a distinct superiority over the normal foolish murderous masses.
He hardly needed some firearm.
No, with Lihin’s power fueling him, with the possibility of TRUE greatness, truly overcoming mediocrity, he could become the man he had always dreamed of.
Thomas McDonald had always dreamed comic book dreams. His eyes had been full of ink, his skin smelt of paper, he felt himself the main character in some gregariously boring comic about a mediocre imbecile school boy who no one pays attention to.
He’d always wanted to star in some great Samurai drama called “Killer Sword” or something.
Juvenile, perhaps, but dreams were dreams.
There was nothing more depressing than mediocrity, and as long as Thomas knew he was far from norm, far from mediocre, far from average, he could stand almost any order.
The old school gymnasium was just as dreary as always as he pushed through the metal clinking of the heavy doors and looked inside.
Totally empty, how anti-climactic.
The other Seekers had presumably spooked or killed anyone close by.
So be it.
He remembered mornings wasted here, wasted demonstrating his physical mediocrity to people with superior physical traits but mentally mediocre traits. Everyone just seemed so normal, so average, so mediocre.
“No more.”
With one draw of his blade, he cleaved the basketball hoop’s metal pole cleanly through. His sword shimmered as he held it in the air, the broken hoop clattering behind him with a loud crash.
Thomas reveled in the feeling, in the power.
He would not be average any longer.
Death before mediocrity!
Suddenly, a familiar smell. It made him wrinkle his nose in attempts to detect it, utterly confused.
It smelled like…burning clothes. His clothes!
Thomas yelped in surprise, broken from his revelry as he leapt and rolled on the ground, beating the fire out of his pants as rapidly as possible.
Coarse laughter entered his ears and he grunted in annoyance and surprise, as if disgruntled by the fact that he had been forced to roll around like a child.
Thomas rose and stared at the figure who was still laughing, a young man with messy black hair dressed in a black clothing that looked remarkably like Thomas’s.
The young man smirked, a katana at his hip, and raised his right hand in front of his own face.
It caught on fire, but the young man didn’t seem to care, making Thomas snort and step back a few steps, collecting himself.
“You’re-”
The young man drew his blade in an instant before Thomas could react, pointing it at Thomas’s bare neck.
“Why have you come here?”
Thomas stiffened, and then smirked, slowly replying with a nervous smile to the man holding the blade at his neck.
“It is you, isn’t it? Michael? You’ve come! You’re one of us then. I figured you would’ve died by now.”
“Answer me.”
“Well, that’s not very polite, is it? Why do you think we’ve come? This area is very important to Mr. Lihin. I was personally tasked with this attack, and I will personally coordinate the death of every human being within a say…hundred mile radius?”
Michael Raine stared menacingly at Thomas, not moving his blade.
“This school is off-limits, Thomas. You know why…You know damn well why…I’ve come for her…If…If I find out…”
“What will you do, Michael? Kill me? If you find out what? You know very well that no one in this damned place deserves sparing! Or have you forgotten your hate? Your purpose? This is ingratitude to Mr. Lihin.”
Raine snorted, lowering his blade.
“I’m not some puppet, you know. I’m driven by only one thing now. The fire of the Original Sin drives me. I can feel it pulsing inside of me, and I know only one thing, my need for HER.”
Thomas shook his head, sighing.
“You’re deluded Raine, don’t you realize that? What do you know about this girl? She’s pretty, she gives you a hard on, huh? You’re absorbed in your lust and your foolishness and ideas of romance and this and that. And you know it yourself, don’t you? You know she’s nothing special. Just a bag of meat!”
Raine grit his teeth, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Shut up!”
“Oh, you know I’m right. Do you really think people change? That if she knew who you were she’d react with anything but disgust and confusion? Human beings aren’t capable of absorbing such emotion or emoting such things as empathy and sympathy. Not on a REAL level, at least. You know that’s true yourself. She never gave you the time of day before, and she definitely wouldn’t now. You’re nothing but a pathetic, self-absorbed kid. Let go of this weight on you. It’s bringing you down, Michael.”
Michael fell to his hands and knees, trembling while Thomas stood over him patronizingly and smiled.
“You see, Michael? She’s bringing you down…I can see the pain in your eyes. Revel with us, revel in your power. There is nothing greater than the power to change your life, your fate, the power to be something other than ordinary, than mediocre. Look at you trembling there, look what she’s brought you to! And she doesn’t even know your name!”
Raine, still trembling and caked with sweat, slowly gazed up at Thomas and whispered fiercely.
“She is no weight; she is the only ideal I have left that propels me. Perhaps I AM Lust, but at least that justifies my existence. Without her driving me, I would have nothing. Even if she is an illusion, it is that illusion that gives me life and motive.”
Thomas sneered in disgust, as if he were about to squash Raine like some pitiful gnat.
“Delusional to the end…Look at you, covered in sweat like some infant.”
“She is no weight…she is my fuel…I sweat and tremble only out of anticipation of what I plan to do to you…If she’s harmed in any way!”
Raine rose with an alarmingly renewed vigor and Thomas stumbled backwards in what could only be termed sheer fright.
Two large, thick streams of pure flame were standing out of the gymnasium floor behind Michael Raine’s tattered black clothes.
To Thomas’s growing disbelief, the flames were taking the form of two massive fists clenched and seemingly ready to punch.
Michael stared at Thomas with cold, merciless eyes, and then and there Thomas knew he would die here, killed by his former classmate on the grounds of the school they had both once attended.
For though those dark brown eyes were cold, more alarming was a subtle underlying current of emotion underneath them. The idea that this cold monster actually had the emotions of a human being as well was terrifying to even a Seeker like Thomas who had recently learned to revel in murder and power.
He could remember Raine and himself “hanging out”, befriending each other, and…there, the descriptions stopped.
What else had they done?
What truly represented friendship?
Had Raine ever truly cared anything of his human relationships?
Thomas bit his lip, sniffing back anger and fear.
And here he’d thought that Raine of all people would be able to appreciate his murderous vision.
All for a girl! A girl! A vagina with legs!
Couldn’t he simply pick out another one that marked his damned fancy?!
Michael Raine was simply standing there with flames dancing all around his body, his eyes remarkably cold and stoic. Under his breath he simply muttered a mantra so intensely that he seemed to be emitting steam with each breath.
“It’s her…it’s her…it’s her…it’s her…”
Thomas guffawed and drew his blade, trembling a bit from the terrible madness of this all.
“What? ‘It’s her’?! What’s her? Have you gone mad! We are both servants of Mr. Lihin, are we not?! Michael!”
The two fists clenched once more, opened into two terrible palms of hellfire, and hurtled straight at Thomas McDonald.
“Part Nine B”
We had run for a long while now, that is all I knew.
It had me huffing, puffing, falling down on my knees, but we had no choice. Gunshots were scattering all around us.
I never asked for this, y’know. I’m just Ryan, the college student, the security guard, the meatbag about to be filled with bullets.
I heard them, chink, chink, chink, not the slur, the noise, ripping apart pieces of girls and boys.
I couldn’t help but cringe, dragging Anna down with me as I heard a bullet hole rip materialize in the bathroom door next to us.
Anna screamed and I slipped and careened onto my back, groaning. Quickly I glanced left and right.
The gunfire hadn’t come from around us, it’d come from INSIDE the room whose door had been shot.
Damn! They were everywhere!
As the door opened outwards, I didn’t feel my life flash in front of my eyes or see any lights or anything like that. Just a click of the door.
Open. Open.
There.
Thank god.
I smiled in exasperated rage at God toying with me. What a clumsy director of some cheesy horror film. Outside the bathroom stood a student I recognized, Andrew Michelson, I always called him Andy.
He always had a smile on his face, y’know? A real bright smile, friendly guy.
He was smiling as he strode out of the bathroom, looking rather normal I must say. Maybe someone had been shooting at him from inside? Or maybe something far worse?
I froze as Andrew Michelson strode forward.
Far worse.
In his hand, little Andy held a black little gun, and he was smiling his smile, sure, but he was aiming it in the general direction of the both of us.
Not like this…not to some disgruntled bastard kid.
Maybe he was just confused, rattled, jarred, maybe something else, I really didn’t care.
It didn’t really matter. Because death out shadowed everything, it out shadowed morality, mercy, madness, anything. Death was supreme.
Maybe this kid had just stumbled outside confused, but it didn’t really matter.
Pop. Pop.
He fell, spiraling and cart wheeling bloodily on the ground like some drunken acrobat as I held my smoking gun raised.
Who knows, maybe this nerdy fucker had been behind it all. I couldn’t afford not shooting with Anna so close to my side, so prone.
I could hear Anna’s screaming, but I knew we couldn’t afford to stop. No, not because of some wasted life.
We had to save ours first of all before we could worry about the lives of others.
Survivalism is absolute.
We kept moving, I kept moving her, I didn’t want to leave her to die. However, I had left Andrew Michelson to die, hadn’t I?
Oh well. Hoes over bros. My charity would be my undoing.
With a snide remark and rapid footsteps, I had left Andrew Michelson’s bleeding body.
Left it behind.
Though nothing is ever really left, it would simply be buried in the catacombs of my skull.
We all have graveyards there full of aborted memories.
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catherinespark reviewed Version 1 -
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Have confidence – you don’t need this much marking criteria! Thomas Macdonals seems to have a chilling psycopathy when watching the destruction. If this was the intention then this was achieved extemely well. I loved the lack of dialogue at the beginning, this detatched the reader, and added to the coldness of the scene. I found the layout a little confusing at times; two sentences together, and then a random paragraph space. I think the dialogue was alright, but it got a bit bland sometimes – if the conversation could move on a bit faster and add to the plot more this would make it much better. Overall this looks a very interesting and original piece, with promise of a good voice.
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Sparkles reviewed Version 1 -
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I don’t want to be rude, but your story doesn’t seem very believable. It reads like a Saturday morning cartoon. Is this the outline? It really needs some fleshing out and a bit more reality. Also, I wondered if your computer pasted your story wrong…there don’t seem to be solid paragraphs. If not, I think you could use a little help on composition and form.
”...engaging in these riffraff…” OK, not quite right. Do you mean “engaging the riffraff ” or possibly “engaging in this riffraff” Or what?
Well, it is an interesting start and I didn’t pick up on any obvious spelling errors.
snopes reviewed Version 1 -
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wow awesome! I’m gonna have to read the other parts but this is really cool…the different sections make it cool and as a teenager i love the dreaming and wishing stuff, the action and weirdness, it’s so creative and imaginative, it actually reminds me of kill bill with the sword fighting (no offense) but then it goes off on all kinds of tacks! keep going…
changes reviewed Version 1 -
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I really loved this. I felt as if I were watching this instead of reading it. It was wonderful. I wish you the best of luck with all of your endeavors.
We all have graveyards there full of aborted memories.
This is a wonderful line and it says a lot about life. It shows me that you have been paying attention to life and you have added a piece of it to your work.
You are a powerful writer and I truly hope to see more of your work. I’d like to see you put more into this piece. Maybe turn it into a screenplay or something.
Good luck.
carolinahermit reviewed Version 1 -
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31 part 9
It felt as if it couldn’t possibly be real-or not
Sadistic satisfaction-or not
Quick-thrill fantasies of a video game-like animated violence
Actually engaging in these riffraff skirmishes
This trusted role
Out of the bored to death/tears universe of mediocrity
Disgusting than that. To be just one of the crowd; to not stand out, that was indeed a fate worse than death
Important now, he mattered, and as he
I know katana is a sword, but a description would be appropriate since he takes such pride in it
Some mass-produced firearm
The alpha male he always dreamed of
Great Samurai graphic novel
Dreams were dreams. And he wasn’t about to give up on his
Presumably stampeded or slaughtered anyone close by
Physical limitations
“mediocre” does eventually get old-inferior/substandard/inconsequential/irrelevant
one smooth draw of his blade
“Death before mediocrity!” That was/would be his battle cry.
Suddenly his nostrils filled/flared with a familiar smell
That he had been humiliated into rolling around
, he too had a katana at his hip,
Thomas straightened up gathering his pride, and then smirked
Not reaching for his blade
Deserves to be spared!
You’re controlled by your lust
It’s dragging you down
Grunted fiercely
Pitifully annoying gnat
And right then and there
That this cold calculating monster actually had the same emotions of a human being as well, was terrifying
The terrible insanity of it all
Bullet hole puncture materialize
had a beaming smile on his face, grinning form ear to ear, y’ know
He wore his usual smile as he strode
Bleeding body to bleed out.
Aborted memories-nice
Writing about school shootings is a touchy subject-I have no idea how it will be received-at your age people are apt to give you funny looks
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