|
|
|
Tadase | 18 | Japanese Heritage | Adopted | Charged 'not guilty' on the plea of temporary insanity
When he came to he was straddling a body, a cafeteria knife in his hand. Brown eyes focused on the body slowly, mind taking note of his own rapid breathing, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the faded feeling of endorphins. Oh, he knew this person, they were in his orchestra class, the person didn't quite pick on him, but Tadase could have lived without it. As his eyes scanned the face, he noticed that they were gasping like a fish, why? His mind was still so foggy, but as the eyes traveled lower he saw his hands clenched tightly around his neck, oh, Tadase as choking the person. Long fingers relaxed, grip loosening and the faint sound of the person gasping for breath his his ears, tears rolling down the person's face. The images were becoming sharper, however the sounds still seemed muddled, and as the high school senior slowly stood up, doors slammed open to his left.
What was gong on? Tadase didn't understand. The cafeteria was eerily quiet for being lunch time, and looking away from the open doors he was soon to understand why, senses sharpening so fast it made his head hurt. The smell of iron, sweat, food flooded his nostrils to such a sickening degree, eyes took in the amount of limp bodies on the floor, some faces he knew, bruised and bashed in, beaten to such a point he couldn't recognize a few, his body was exhausted to such a degree, everything from his legs to his fingers were sore. In the background he could her the PA system and students yelling, screaming, mumbling. A teacher was slumped against a column while students on the ground planked, ha, wrong time for a joke. Dark red pools of blood underneath them, other pools were turning a shade of purple, some people were still crying out, or the one in front of him spluttering to life, utensils sticking up from their body, food and trays on them. Any other situation, like if it was a movie, it would have been hilarious, Tadase cracking a soft joke on how the school food killed them and such. Instead he covered his mouth to keep from throwing up, people yelling in the background, students, but as his hand touched his face he pulled it away, feeling something warm and thick. Blood, or at least on the sides of his hand, but he lifted the other one to find the exact mess. Tears welled up, trembling as he looked down on himself, body shaking just as bad before he doubled over, stomach and intestines tightenign to such a degree hot bile poured from his mouth, sour and smelling sickly sweet.
He was cold, so cold. Had he done this? There were teachers around him, just as horrified as he was. He tried to speak, voice croaking instead before footsteps reached his ears. Turning he saw the police uniform, the adrenaline kicking in, but this time fear before he backed up, trying to speak, to defend himself. His body was frozen to the ground, shakes and trembled now furiously making his body convulse. They were talking to him slowly, softly, trying to calm him, but tears were running down his face. Why? What was happening?! "I,' he tried to say, gritting his teeth as the man brandished a pair of handcuffs, the others behind him having tasers and guns. Another step back, nearly slipping in his own pile of vomit. What were they saying? Why? Did Tadase do it? No, he didn't do it, he couldn't have, he didn't. Tadase didn't do it. "I plead temporary insanity!" He screamed suddenly, backing up even more, the fear in his eyes raw and wild. "Temporary insanity! I wasn't in the right state of mind! I didn't do it! Get away from me it wasn't me! Let me go! Temporary insanity! I have a right to an attorney! I have a right to a fair trial! It was temporary insanity!" He screamed as more tried to keep him from struggling, dragging him away by force. He was screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kevin | 18 | Mexican Heritage | Immigrated to the country at the age of 3 | Charged 'guilty' on the account of rape
It's always so thrilling to rape, letting raw sexual desire take control. We are only animals to our own desires. The letter read at the police station. The cops could almost see him grin. But after giving you guys so many clues and hints as to where I am, it gets boring and disappointing when you can't even find me. So many women have been raped due to your carelessness. It makes me angry, that you can't find me. I might take it out on the women, the last one was an accident, I can say so truthfully. She practically begged me to do it. The last girl had been branded with an iron horse brand in multiple areas, her pelvis having been the worst when they came across her, unconscious and tied spread eagle to a bed. By the time you have gotten this letter, it has already been three days. Do you know how many ways I can rape someone in three days? It's exciting just thinking about what I'll do, my skin crawls with anticipation. But I'm afraid to say, if you don't come here within the next twenty-four hours, I can't promise she'll be alive. Waiting for you to find me has grated down my patience to a fine thread. 452 Patience Road.
And the letter ended there. They were immediately dismissed to find the street and the rapist. They couldn't find the road after hours and hours of scouring the city, no one had ever heard of it. So seven hours into it, they were stuck clueless, left with nothing but an address. Nine hours into it they got their information from an elderly woman. Patience Street had existed over twelve years ago, but soon they tore down the entire neighborhood to replace it with an restaurant, long since abandoned. The search started up, looking for any abandoned buildings, once again combing through the buildings among buildings of the city. ten and a half hours they got a call, saying where the street used to be and what it was now, and the police were gone. 11 hours into it they surrounded an old and abandoned Pizza Hut, this side of town rough. Swat team entered silently, finding him after only a minute or two of searching. he was in the old walk-in freezer, the freezer itself having been shut down years before.
And there was just a kid, straddling the hips of a woman and an metal camping steak in his hand, tongue touching the metal, the police having interrupting his lick. Beneath him the girl was naked and bruised, gagged but not blindfolded, crystal blue eyes swollen from crying. The tanned teenager broke into a grin, ripping the cloth from the girl and squeezing her cheeks together. "See?" he said, words slithering from his mouth like honey. "They did come for you. Say thank you, Kevin, for telling them where you are. Thank me, and then thank them, they kept me from stabbing you with this." And jerked her head over to them as they walked in. "Say it." And aimed the metal piece at her shoulder. She shouted a loud thank you and Kevin was yanked away, laughing and trying to dance had the police not been surrounding him, some untying the naked female. "This is o wonderful! Perhaps you aren't as stupid as you thought you were! Oh I'm tickled pink!" Black hair was shaggy and in his face as he laughed, dancing and swaying out of the building, having the time of his life. "How thrilling! How exciting! Had it not been for me she would have been dead! I am so entertained!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Matthew | 17 | German Heritage | American born | Charged 'guilty' on the plea of being guilty
He had gone to the police, trying to turn himself in that he'd been in a gang, he'd been apart of the arson, yet for some reason they wouldn't take him, lack of evidence, and the fact he looked like a well-to-do straight A student didn't help, disregarding him almost immediately. Matt didn't know what to do, his conscious and sanity slowly diminishing as she remembered those people's faces. He had stood in the background of a gang bang, being watch out. The screams and pleas, the fact he couldn't do anything, and after they'd been killed it was his job to get rid of the evidence, and he sure as hell did it rather well. he was an arsonist, a pyromaniac, but his guilty conscious couldn't take it much more. Many thoughts went through his head of burning down the police station for not forgiving him, but then thoughts of burning the gang alive eased into his mind, making him feel better, less guilty, less angry. A small warmth seeped into his stomach as he thought of it, their screams of agony as they burned. Chances are they wouldn't let him quit, so he had to force them to allow him to quit.
The next day, early in the morning Matthew was dumping CaO all over the ground of the usual meet-up of the gang. CaO, calcium oxide, quicklime, a liquid that once it came in contact with enough water would give off heat and combust into a flame. The teenager had a truck full of the stuff, having stored it over the years for no reason except to light small fire, now he had a reason, a purpose, to erase his history and let him start anew, like a phoenix or something just as lame. It went everywhere, the ground, the grass, the trees, the walls. He even found a ladder and poured a rather gluttonous amount on the roof until it was soaked with it, the metal of the ladder being drenched on his way down. The clouds overhead were darkening, and Matt could hear the oncoming thunder. Running a hand through his red hair he sent a quick email from his phone, calling them together for a quick get together, he had good news. More emails went out, to the fire department and police, telling them what he did, what he used, and what they should do. When the fire started, they shouldn't put out the fire on and around the building, no, if it went to other buildings around it they should put those out, but adding water to the quicklime would only worsen the situation. Looking up at the sky through glasses Matthew could only pray that the weatherman had been correct.
And they all came, Matt greeting them cheerfully like he always did and excited for his plan, telling them it would be the best one yet, and his clean-up would leave little to no trace unless he told the police how he did it, which he wouldn't. It was always hard to take him seriously when he was an excited idiot, and they liked him for that. One good kid from the good part of town joining them. Of course Matt was hurrying them all inside, and soon it started to rain, a small sprinkle at first, but the ground was heating up under his feet. Then it started getting harder and harder, and soon the roof was coming alive with light, small at first, but it started getting brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter. Before the others could complain he ran out of the building, closing it shut and running to the sidewalk, taking off his shoes and tossing them onto the grass. Within minutes the rain drops themselves fat with water and the area was ablaze with fire, the yelling from the inside as they ran out, soon finding their soaked shoes on fire, stopping to drop and roll, covering themselves further. He walked over, picking up an empty quicklime container and stood there, watching them dance. Minutes later the police showed up and he turned, smiling so carefree. "Ah, good. You came on time." And quickly had himself arrested, humming to himself, tapping his wet, socked feet on the floor of the car as they drove him to the station, firefighters quickly doing their best to keep the fire off the other buildings while saving those inside the fore, covering them with sand the best they could to get the fires out.
Matt was free, no longer in a gang, he no longer had to burn people or evidence, no longer had to see rapes and murders. He was free, and it was a breath of fresh hair.
 Your Missing Period · Tue Sep 06, 2011 @ 12:44pm · 1 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
