Original Story by Damascus Mincemeyer, Remix by Chaoticprime with
Decon Falls High school has had its share of trauma. Murdered professors, disappearing students, it came as no surprise to Police Captain Jason Mills when they received the first call of the morning in regards to shots having been fired in the vicinity of said school.
Mills sat up in his desk at the news. Setting down his coffee, he cracked his neck and checked the clock, 8:20 AM, "Fucking great, I swear that goddamn school was built on a fucking Indian burial ground."
James Camden ruthlessly pounded his fingers against the steering wheel of his 89' Iroc Z Camero matching the tune of the KMFDM song blaring through the speakers. Angry work required angry motivation, and KMFDM was as angry as music got. James knew that what he had to do must be done, and if he were to fail the consequences would be worse than anything he could even imagine.
The duffel bag sitting in the passenger's seat adjacent to him spoke to his devotion. There was easily 20 felonies worth of illegal firearms in it, just sitting there, waiting to cause harm.
It had become almost like clockwork, first period beginning at 7:30 AM, James Camden rolling into the parking lot at 8:15. There was no degree of disrespect in the boy's action, as far as anyone could tell, it was just that perhaps James saw that he required a certain area of leniency, perhaps a bit more sleep, Assistant Principle Charles DuPont mused to himself as he stood out front of the school. Principal Kaestle enjoyed making a spectacle out of the Valedictorian. The boy had personality issues, he was definitely unbalanced, but as he had but a single month left of school, things could be arranged to ignore his transgressions
The loud rumble of a car engine alerted DuPont to the immediate forthcoming of the boy in question. Looking down to his watch, the time being sixteen past, DuPont laughed to himself, "He's later than usual."
DuPont himself was a tirelessly bitter man. He had been a biology teacher for twenty-three years, and then became Assistant Principal, a duty he had upheld for an additional eight years. Thirty years of his life devoted to those idiot kids, and not once had he heard a single word of thanks. He had never went out on a limb to reach out to any certain student, he was not there for the companionship, or the knowledge that he'd made a difference, he was there for the control. Plain and simple, he liked to control people, and those brainless teenagers were the perfect sport for such an endeavor. Perhaps the school board sensed this was his application in the teaching process, which is most probably why he'd never seen Principal. That Kaestle was still wet-behind-the-ears when he was brought in to ride herd on Decon Falls High.
With the recent death of the runner up for said job, one Professor Edwin Buikovic, the school board was thrown up in a huff over who would inherit the task of Principal. Of course their gaze never long lingered on the most sensible man for the job. Why, it would be far too simple to simply hire on the man of which had devoted three fucking decades to the betterment of future generations. Instead of choosing DuPont they chose Kaestle, a former professor of the language arts at Decon Falls Community College. The man had never held the job of a real faculty member; his only real experience was working with some retarded kids over in Kansas for a few years before he landed the Community College job.
It was probably because DuPont was a stalwart Catholic. Catholics and Jews had never been the greatest of allies, especially when this entire fucking town was run by the kike mother fuckers. To tell the absolute truth, when a bunch of skin heads murdered Professor Buikovic, DuPont was actually sort of amused. The man had spent his entire life reaching out to students, trying to convert them to his Jew way of thinking, and all it got him was multiple stab wounds and his head burned off.
DuPont was feeling especially warm this bitter spring morning when the sound of James Kamden's Camero bouncing off of the parking lot speed-bump alerted him to attention. Being Assistant Principal carried very little duties aside from chastising students, so DuPont began to trek his way over to the student parking with the full intention of dishing out a nice helping of discipline.
James took in several breaths as his car ceased motion. He had that strange sensation often described as jet-lag, when his body was not yet caught up to the stillness felt when the fast moving vehicle he sat in no longer rumbled along at full tilt. Ringing his hands along the steering wheel, he once more glanced over to his bag of tricks sitting alongside him. Shutting his eyes, he took in several more gulping breaths and then popped his door-handle, and began to egress from the vehicle. The sound of footsteps alerted him to the presence of another being.
The sight of Assistant Principal DuPont marching up to him, a steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee sitting in his hand, served to set into James' mind as a show of aggression. The bitter little balding man, who looked not un- akin to a rat or snake, had this look on his face that seemed to represent the man's own feelings of inner usefulness, who got off by bossing kids around. James smiled and grabbed the duffel bag. The dull-red satchel sagged heavily under its contents, and it took James more than a moment to get himself, and the bag out of the car.
No sooner had James emerged from the vehicle when DuPont reached him. The thin, balding man dumped out his coffee, dropped the cup, and then placed one arm over the ajar door of the Camero and his other arm over the hood, creating a mock-barrier before James.
"What's in that bag, Camden?"
James did not even look at him before sending his free hand into DuPont's stomach. The thin man coughed several times, let loose of his hold on the sports car, then fell to the ground, vomiting up his breakfast of coffee and donuts.
James placed his foot on the retching man's back and lightly gave him a push. Rolling over, DuPont looked up at James with dazzled eyes. Probably still living somewhere a few minutes ago, the wretched little man most probably had not realized what had happened. This served to anger James even more, and with a sudden unzipping of the bag, and the withdrawal of a handgun, he aimed the weapon at the head of the sniveling man and spoke out, in harsh, grating tones, "You fucking disgusting puke of a man! Get up off your faggoty pussy ass!"
The last couple of seconds seemed like long hours to DuPont. Shaking, he felt the pain of James' punch still echoing within his gut like a drumbeat. The pain throbbed, and DuPont felt like he would throw up again. Hearing the demands of his assailant, he made his best attempt to fight back tears as he wrestled with the ground to find his footing. Pushing himself up, he warily tottered on his feet as he looked at the student who had thusly caused ruin upon his teacher.
James looked at the man before him and pressed the snub nose of the 38. caliber revolver up against the side of his head. DuPont then let out a dull whine and pissed his pants. James coughed slightly, the acrid urine smelled like stale coffee.
James retracted the fire-arm and shouted, "Turn around, we're going inside!"
DuPont stuttered, his words were shaken and morose, "Wh-where? The School?"
James sighed, "Of course the school, you stupid fuck-wit."
DuPont nodded, it seemed it was not worth his while to even get out of bed today.
Captain Mills banged his fist against the top of his squad car as he shouted out at the top of his lungs, "Come on you bastards! There's been a shooting, get your faggot fucking asses in gear! We don't want another bullshit hostage situation! Let's fucking go!"
Mills had every intention to bring out the entire force on this one. Whoever was responsible for this had better be bulletproof, otherwise there was gonna be one dead fucking terrorist. Decon Falls was not gonna be a town that put up with shit like this, not so long as Jason Mills was in charge of it.
Initially, DuPont had moved of his own accord, drudging along in front of James like a slave on his was to the quarry, however, James soon grew dissatisfied with the man's slow pace, and took hold of his arm and began to drag him along.
As James kicked open the front doors, a small group of students standing in line in front of the office window turned to face him. James' eyes widened at the sight of them, and let loose of DuPont as he screamed out, "You can't take me, you fuckers!"
The students looked at each other, and then took a few steps towards James. James opened fire with the , each round tearing into the flesh of the encroaching students. The foremost student doubled over in pain and fell to the earth, his mouth agape like that of a fish, scarlet froth foaming over his lips. The three other students turned to run, their apparent bravery dead with their comrade. James began to laugh out loud, his voice booming over the panicked roar, "You can't run from me! Judgment has come!" He opened up on the fleeing students, the pistol blasting out death from afar. James was a crack shot, even under pressure, and the bullets cut through skull of the first, splattering his brains all over the back of the student running ahead of him.
His second and third shots tore into the fleshy back of one, and the upper shoulder of another. However, though grievously wounded, the two continued to run.
James roared out, "Damn you, come back here! You can't warn him!"
James let loose of DuPont and quickly tore open the satchel. His hands came out holding an AR-15 assault rifle. Taking a second to make sure it was loaded; he flipped off the safety, dropped to one knee, and took aim. With two quick bursts, the heads of the fleeing students exploded like rotten fruit. Smiling widely, James slung the machine gun over his shoulder, then tucked the pistol into his pants. Looking to DuPont, he spoke, humor floating on his voice, "Carry my bag, do what I say and I won't shoot you."
DuPont nervously reached down and slung the hefty bag's shoulder strap around his collar. Nodding, he reached up and wiped tears away from his cheeks.
Principal Daniel Kaestle sat in his office staring intently at the monitor of his computer. Having the day before seized a CD-Rom from one of the students, he now vehemently gazed at two girls on the Cheerleading Squad. Misty Myers and Jane Phillips were both top students with no where to go but up, and now Kaestle was watching Myers fellate some unknown phallus while Phillips committed acts of cunnilingus upon her classmate. Kaestle was a rather prominent man in the community, and such material in his possession could be extremely damaging. However, this contraband was worth at least one good jack-off before it was destroyed. And that thought truly pained Kaestle, for such beauty was only destroyed through great remorse.
Reaching into his pants, he began to knead himself, when he suddenly heard gunshots. Letting lose of his genitals instantly, he barely managed to both zip up his pants and close the window on the pc when his door burst open to reveal his personal assistant, Betty. The girl was barely out of high school herself, her lovely heart-shaped ass often being the object of Kaestle's masturbatory fantasies. The young girl dashed into his room in quite a panic. No sooner had she cleared the threshold of his office when her head, quite literally, exploded.
Kaestle's mouth quivered in shock, he managed to stutter out the words, "B- Betty!" as he stood up and staggered to the door, his head almost in a daze.
He cleared the doorway in time to see a single assailant firing on his clerical staff. Joyce, his head secretary, made an attempt to stand up and run, but a quick burst of automatic gunfire caught her in the mouth and face, liquefying her head. Red curls of hair exploded everywhere, and one such piece landed at Kaestle's feet. Shocked, he reached down and picked up the fragment of his former assistant.
Stuttering again, he looked at the attacker and squinted his eyes, "James Camden?"
James was knee deep in the dead. Having stepped into the office directly after having slain the first four of the enemy that he had seen, he wasted no time eliminating another three of the enemy located inside the office. Surprisingly, the Principal was still human, so James overlooked him while he finished gunning down the current transgressors.
Having sent the last of the evident enemies into the oblivion, James turned to DuPont, "Sling that bag on the desk; I don't have a lot of time!"
DuPont shook in his steps as he frantically did as he was told. Principal Kaestle suddenly recovered from his shock as the horrible reality of what was happening came flooding in to drown his happy little world. The room in which he stood was made unto an abattoir. Three of his secretary's lay in ruins, their bodies flayed out like slaughtered cattle. He forced back the urge to vomit as he approached the artist responsible for the tapestry of death hung about his office.
James reached into his bag and pulled out a large sheaf of rolled paper. Holding down one edge with his right hand, he unfurled it with his left, displaying a blueprint of the school in which they all stood. DuPont crept up behind James and snuck a look, "Jesus Christ, you're gonna kill us all!"
James back-handed DuPont sending the weasel of a man crashing to the floor, crying out, the small man clutched his hands to his nose, as blood began to seep from it.
Kaestle walked up to James, a harsh tone in his voice, " sick son- of-a-bitch!" He thought of the dead body of his secretary, who an only moment ago was the object of his fantasy. Rage built up inside him, if this little punk wants to cry out to the world with violence, and then I'll bring it right to him!
Kaestle marched over to James, his spirit adamant that he would either end this fiasco, or be killed in the attempt. James, however, saw his approach, and pulled the pistol from his pants. Aiming the weapon level with Kaestle's head, he growled out, "Back the fuck off, Jew. This doesn't concern you."
Feeling his bladder weaken, this was the first time Kaestle had had a weapon pointed at him in such a manner. Biting down his resolve, he managed to speak, "Whatever you are trying to express with this vile act, I am sure it can be dealt with on another medium."
James hit him in the mouth with the 38. Kaestle cried and held his mouth. Kicking DuPont as he walked by, James stormed towards Kaestle, forcing him against a wall. Jamming the pistol in the principal's mouth and cocked back the hammer, "You listen, you fuck! I have a lot of work to do, and not a whole lot of time to do it. This school has been infiltrated! None of you can see it, but they're here, and the time has come for someone to deal with them!"
Principal Kaestle seemed confused, despite his overwhelming sense of fear filling every last inch of his person. "I don't have time to explain, but look at their eyes, that's how it gets them! Now, I am not here to kill innocent kids, I'm here to save them!"
With that, James withdrew the weapon and walked back over to the map. Certain classrooms were marked with an 'X'.
DuPont clutched his stomach and whined, he was quite sure that today was the last day of his life.
Mr. Palencar's classroom was at the far end of the student campus, and thusly did not hear any of the gunshots. Mike Spencer was hurried in his attempt to finger fuck his lab partner, a girl who had transferred into the class a week prior.
Mike, being one with an esteemed knowledge of manipulating female affections to best serve his needs, had been laying it on fairly thick these past few days, and finally they saw fruition as his middle finger rigorously rubbed the swollen clitoris of the cute little brunette virgin who'd just recently taken up sitting next to him.
His hand under her skirt, she was leaning forward onto their lab table; which was the last on the right. Her hips thrusting forward as she began to orgasm, her heavy breathing suddenly hit a rapid peak and Mike's hand was then filled with her sexual fluid. Reaching up and washing his hand of her cum in the lab sink, he smiled to her and leaned forward to bite her lower lip, "See, I told you that it would feel great. Now, I bet you cannot wait to have my prick deep up inside you?"
She shuddered as he placed her hand on his erect penis filling in the front of his jeans. He pressed her palm down on it as it throbbed causing her to shudder again. She leaned forward to him, he tongue flitting about his ear, "Take me into the girls bathroom and fuck me right now."
Mike shrugged, "Now, I simply cannot argue with a lady."