Freshman Year High School
Steam from the running shower filled the locker room as I closed the door quietly behind me.
No one would know I was here. The rest of the team had left long before the starting quarterback began his shower.
He wasn’t quiet about his routine both before and after practice. The superstitious, arrogant meat head.
Setting a trip wire outside the shower door was almost too easy; his rap music was playing loud enough to cover any sounds I made.
Fishing line was easy enough to come by to tie across the lower-level lockers.
With how hot he was running the showers, the steam would still be thick in the air when he came out, concealing it completely.
I hid myself behind the laundry hampers at the end of the open hall.
There was no door leading from the showers into the rows of lockers; there was just open space.
From my position, I’d easily be able to see him exit.
My hands tightened around the tools I had stolen from the woodworking shop.
Sometimes, the benefits of going to a small town school were worth it when the overly trusting teachers kept the doors unlocked.
Josh finally emerged from the showers, rap music still blaring from the Bluetooth speaker he set up on top of the lockers.
Cocky prick walked out without so much as a towel covering his junk.
Sure, he was traditionally good looking on the outside, but on the inside, he was rotten, worse than the thrown out fruit that lay out spoiling in the sun.
He deserved it after what he did to all those girls, manipulating them into pleasing him and then spreading their naked bodies around for the entire school to see.
He took it one step too far, much farther than the damage a photo could ever do, when he failed to listen to the word “stop” the other night.
He never saw the trip wire I had set out, as his ankles made contact with it, pitching him forward into the bench between the rows of lockers.
I sprang into action, even though he hit his head on the bench, I couldn’t waste any precious seconds to keep him down.
If he was able to get up, if he was able to gain his bearing, then he’d have the upper hand.
Gripping the hammer with both hands, I came out from behind the hampers, the music covering the sound of my rushed footsteps.
I left the saw behind, not needing it just quite yet.
Josh had rolled over on all fours, one of his hands gripping his head where he was cut open from hitting the corner of the wooden bench.
He never once looked up, never saw me coming as I swung the hammer as hard as I could and made contact with the back of his skull.
He screamed, his agony a symphony to my ears, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I wondered if he thought the same thing when girls would cry and beg him to get off of them? My hit was hard enough to send him flying to the side, flipping him over, where he landed on his back.
I didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow my swings as his eyes opened and he saw me.
My aim wasn’t just toward his head; I wasn’t too picky with where the hammer made contact with his naked body.
Swinging at his less-than-impressive dick wasn’t an accident; hearing his screams made it worth having to get close to the STD infested anatomy.
One final hit to his temple was enough to knock him out, his eyes closing, his hands dropping, no longer trying to defend himself.
I didn’t check for a pulse, didn’t care if he was still alive for this part or not.
I wiped the back of my hand across my face, smearing the blood that had splattered all over me.
Its warmth spurred me on, reminding me that my job wasn’t finished yet.
Leaving him where he was, I dropped the hammer and went to retrieve the saw.
He was still flat on his back, his head tilted to one side, not that it mattered.
I straddled his naked body, my thighs on either side of his chest, as I gripped the handle of the electric reciprocating saw.
The blade was brand new and sharp, just begging to cut through something.
Cutting through his flesh was easy, the blade sliced it like butter, the serrated teeth tearing him into strips, slinging them in every direction as I cut deeper.
I never let up the force I held against it, even as it struggled to cut through the vertebrae of his neck.
Bone dust shot into my face with chunks of gore, and I regretted forgetting to steal a mask earlier.
My blonde hair was starting to stain red as his head finally separated from his useless body.
Never again would he lay hands on another girl.