PROLOGUE

The first shot was a warning. A bullet pierced a student's temple, crashing through brain tissue, shredding it. Everyone just stared, wide-eyed. He stood there, the semi-automatic handgun poised and ready. Disbelief quickly set in, in the situation, in the person committing the atrocity, in the possibility that such a normal day could be shattered like the glass of the window the bullet exited through.

For a split second, there was silence. Most just sat there, still trying to comprehend what was happening. A few took the initiative, jumping from their seats. Someone screamed. This was the signal. Others screamed, shouted, finally began to move, hurriedly running any way they could. Then a second shot rang out. And a third. Again and again he fired. With each blast, another person fell to the ground, taking others with him or her as people tripped over the bodies. When his clip emptied, he released it, grabbed another from his pocket, and reloaded.

He walked slowly towards them. He made no real attempt to aim, there was no need. A wall of people, students scrambling back and forth, was before him. Exits surrounded them, but trying to find one in the mob was difficult. Panic quickly took over. His job was easy.

After enough gunfire and screaming and running, the cafeteria quieted down. An intricate lattice-work made up of streams of blood spread across the black and white faux marble floor. There were bodies strewn about. Most were dead, a few were still trying to hold on. He stepped over them as he made his way toward the back, to see if he had missed anyone.

He heard sniffling, and turned. A girl had her back planted up against a wall, next to a vending machine. When he came into her view, she sucked in air. Tears streamed from her eyes. He smiled at her.

He raised the gun, and pulled the trigger. The girl jerked and collapsed suddenly. The cafeteria was now empty. He was the last one left.

He turned the gun towards himself, and fired the last bullet.

Mark Rogers' alarm blared, waking him up.

His breathing was short, shallow, and rapid. After a few deep breaths, he managed to calm down. Everything felt so real... it was as though he knew that was how it was going to happen. He saw it clearly: today, at school, they were all going to die.

He smiled.

He hoped things would go that perfectly.