Shot Through the Heart
Sebastian was late to school that day. It didn't matter too much to the world, though it meant everything at the same time. He planned it this way, and it brought a smile to his lips as he shot two very late fags holding hands on their way to class. Students and teachers poked their heads out the door, and the bullet that left their brains splattered across their horrified classrooms surely satisfied their curiosity.
He made his way to French, his sister's first hour. He shot down most of the kids around her, the teacher, their blood staining the desks a similar color to her fiery hair. Some of the kids ran past him, and he let them run, like pigs from a gun and terrified of him. He was in complete control, and he shot as many of them as he could, having to change guns for a full round once. He didn't come ill-equipt, he learned at least that much from his bastard father.
There was a stupid boy there, covered in red and trying to protect her, but bullets tore through the once golden teenager with ease and not-so golden insides splattered across the floors and maybe even making it to the walls. She cried out for the boy, but he was already dead.
Sebastian, the character Jonathan had been playing from the beginning, fired a shot into his sister's heart as she begged for the dead, then one into his hollow chest cavity. Too many people had said he didn't have a heart, and as the bullet ripped though him, he couldn't help but think that they might have been right. This was his turn to outshine all of Clarissa's little friends.
If he couldn't have her, no one could.