A/N Woot! Thus, begins cycle two of my new updating schedule, and I am actually sticking to it so far.

Thanks to all Reviewers!

Dedication: To usaprincess242 for her review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing beyond the plot.

When I think back to that dark day in April, I wish more than anything that I hadn't gone to the game that night, I wish there had been no game that night. I quit the cheerleading squad shortly after that. There wasn't much left that I thought was worth cheering for, and I couldn't bear to face the role I had been forced to play that night as a result of my so-called position of authority as cheerleading captain.

Garrison got his wish, a newscaster by the name of Kristen Hampton agreed to broadcast the story, and although a camera was brought in the gym to record Garrison's words it was not played live. The news station was unwilling to display such carnage, and they were also prohibited from showing the recording, as the police were not sure who had been injured or killed so far, and they couldn't have families informed by seeing their relations lying dead on the gym floor. So it was that channel seven was given the dubious honor of interviewing one of the biggest sociopaths ever to hit Port Charles, New York, which was saying something given the usual residents and guests known to inhabit the town.

-Flashback-

Garrison grabbed me by the arm and dragged me once more toward the door of the gym. Mac had called to inform him that the camera was waiting outside. As I was dragged in Garrison's desired direction I looked up into the stands to spot Jason and Sonny. Sonny looked enraged, Jason appeared calm, although something glittered in his eyes that clued me into the fear he was feeling, which I knew was mirrored in my face. He also appeared calculating, he was surveying the gym as though trying to decide whether he could manage to take out the gunmen before they managed to kill any of the civilians. For the moment the answer to that questioned seemed to be no, but I knew that Jason would be watching for an opportunity to turn the tables.

The camera was brought in, Garrison made one of the basketball players hold it. He had the teenager, whose name I later learned was Mark, pan the camera across the crowd, and across the pile of dead and dying people on the gym floor. And, then he began to speak. Garrison had a good public speaking style, full of pathos, and if not for the fact that he was a raving lunatic you could almost be drawn in.

"I attended this school, years ago." He began. "They didn't understand my genius back then, didn't understand the flaws of the doctrine "all men are created equal." You all tell yourselves that we're equal, the same. Deep down, you know that is not the case. Some people are inherently better than others, and some people are not worth the oxygen they breathe."

I wanted to reply, yeah, like you, because if anyone wasn't worth the air they were breathing it was clearly him. I said nothing though. I simply stood off to the side and listened with growing horror.

"It is time, that we, the people who understand this clear fact, take action and seize control. It is time to restore leadership to the superior beings in this nation. And, that will start today at this school." He paused for effect. "Look around, you will see the bodies of unworthy people in this gym, they have been disposed of, taken care of, and I think you will find that we're all better off for it." He concluded his long monologue at this point as Robin's cell phone began to ring. He indicated that I should hand it over to him and I did.

"Hello?" Garrison spoke into the phone.

"You have your camera, now release the thirty hostages." Mac's voice sounded through the phone.

"What about this newscaster who is supposed to interview me?" Garrison reminded.

"I will connect you with her as soon as the hostages are released."

"Fine. However, if you double0cross me, Commissioner you will find that your niece will pay the price."

"Understood." Mac replied tersely.

Garrison indicated that the people in the next three rows of bleachers should rise. They did so and were made to file down and line up single file. He counted them after this and found out that instead of the desired thirty people there were thirty-two. He calmly proceeded to shoot the last two people in the line. I heard a muffled sob from the gym floor, and looked over to see Robin's tennis partner crying. The people Garrison had just shot were her brother and father.

I felt my hands start to shake as I watched Garrison shove the thirty hostages out the door.

-End Flashback-

I learned what a real monster was that day, and found that I much preferred the make believe monsters of my childhood, the boogie man and such creatures, were much less scary than this real life horror.

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