TEMPEST
Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them. - Dalai Lama
Waverly University Campus
8:20 am
Sarah's class was due to start at 8:30 am, so Matthew, after having a hearty breakfast with his beloved, walked her into her study hall, leading her towards the Creative Writing class in room 206 on the second floor. He walks her to the door, and they pop their heads inside and see that only two other students arrived early for the class.
"Wait here, ok?" Sarah enters the room, leaves her things on her desk, says hi to her friends and leaves the room, grabbing Matthew's hand and leading him down the corridor.
"What are you doing?"
She smiles saucily at him, and climbs the stairs to the third floor. Once on it, they walk down the corridor to an unoccupied language lab. She checks inside the lab, sees that indeed her class schedule was right, nobody will use the lab until after lunchtime and drags Matthew, who has been docilely following her with a smile on his face, inside.
She locks the door from the inside after he enters the lab, and attacks him, kissing him ferociously. He smiles and proceeds to answer with the same hunger. After several minutes kissing, he feels Sarah's delicate fingers undoing his belt buckle. He stops her hands.
"Hey," he kisses her nose, "you have a class that started," he looks at his wristwatch, and closes his eyes as he feels Sarah licking his neck, "oh… oh… five… five minutes ago."
Sarah lifts her head, and takes a step back, "Professor Goldberg always arrives late." She takes her t-shirt off, showing an expanse of perfect skin and her delicate bra. Matthew opens his mouth, but no sound comes out of it.
"And I'm much more interested in another type of exercise," she unclasps her bra, and drops it slowly to the floor.
Matthew gulps, staring at the perfection before him.
"If you say so," he takes a step forward, and takes the young McGee in his arms lovingly, "I'm all for practice," he kisses her delicately, "lots of practice."
8:55 am
Fu Wang, a third generation Chinese-American who was studying in Waverly to graduate in his English major, slowly approaches the Wilburg Hall where he is scheduled to have a Creative Writing class in room 206. He's carrying a backpack, which in itself is not unusual, as jeans, a baggy shirt and a backpack seems to be the usual uniform of the students attending the classes.
He approaches the building, and he's happy to see that there's no one around the entrance of the building, as he is late for his class. He climbs the stairs towards the main entrance of the building and stops. He turns around and looks at the green grass that extends for several meters around the building, and sees no one. Everyone is supposed to be in class already. He puts his backpack on the floor, and walks towards the big hall doors, and struggles with them. After some precious minutes, the doors unlock and silently move to close. Once they are closed, he opens the backpack and gets a thick chain from it, and uses it on the door handle, effectively locking it. He puts a deadbolt on it, and slips a piece of paper, stating that anyone trying to open the door would set off an explosive device, under the door.
After locking the door, he closes his backpack and walks down the corridor towards the stairs, he has a class to attend.
9:02 am
"Ah Matt, I…" Sarah moans.
"Sarah, I… I think I love you." He groans, his breathing coming in gulps.
"Matt, I love you too."
9:03 am
Wang arrives at the second floor of the hall, and starts walking down the corridor. He hears the murmur of the students behind the closed doors, and he stretches himself on his toes to peek inside the rooms through the small window on the door. He looks first at room 203, where Professor Viviane Bittencourt is giving a French test. He counts how many students there are, and sees some students looking at him curiously through the small window on the door.
He then walks to room 204, 205, 206, 207 and 211. Rooms 208 up to 210 were empty that semester, due to faulty electrical wiring.
He lays his backpack on the floor, opens it, and grabs two semiautomatic handguns from it. He handles them with expertise and grabs extra magazines and put them on the pockets of his trousers.
He walks back towards room 204 and opens the door. Professor Dinesh Partha looks up from his text book, which he's reading out loud to explain the complicated chemical process of creating rubber, and he's caught by surprise by the appearance of a young man with a very mean gun pointed to his face.
"What is the meaning of th…" he never finished his sentence, as a bullet in his face kills him. The students are shocked, not even having the chance of screaming, before the armed youth turns on them and opens fire.
9:04:15 am
Both lovers freeze when they hear something that had no place in that calm morning.
"What was that?" The sound repeats, and Matthew immediately tenses up, releasing Sarah and immediately looking for their clothes. He throws her things at her, and looks around the room looking for anything that might be used as a weapon. She is getting scared, and she looks confused at his strange reaction.
"Get dressed."
"What?" she looks at him confused, "What's that sound?"
"Hurry, get dressed. No time for explanations, get dressed."
9:04:45 am
"911, how may I help you?"
Shots are heard through the connection, and the attendant immediately tenses.
"Sir?"
"HE HAS A GUN!" More shots, and the attendant stands up and gestures to his supervisor, indicating he has a grave emergency on the line.
"Sir, where are you?"
More shots and screams, and then no screams at all.
"Sir, where are you?"
"Second floor, Wilsburg Hall, Waverly Univer…" Another shot, and whoever was speaking is silenced forever.
The attendant takes his headset off, and immediately starts tracing the call, which is still connected and transmitting. He puts it on the speakerphone, and they hear sobbing and moaning. More shots.
The supervisor immediately calls the upper floor, and demands to talk with the Metro Homicide detective on duty.
"Detective Bechelli speaking."
"We have a situation at Waverly University," he looks at the computer screen, and the attendant points to the active signal of the still connected mobile phone inside Wilburg Hall.
"What kind of a situation?"
He rewinds the tape, and plays the few seconds of the recording to him. After the detective hears it, he stops the tape, and speaks sadly, "It's Virginia Tech all over again."
a/n: tighten your seatbelts, we're going in a rough ride...