All characters, plots, and incidents portrayed in this story are entirely fictitious and are in no way intended to resemble those of the real world.
We just had to add this disclaimer, because we are like that. YYEEAAAHH!
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Prologue: An Abrupt Ending
'Well, well, well...'
'How did I end up in this mess...?'
The mahogany office was shrouded in a monotonous darkness with only a sliver of moonlight catching on their tired faces, cutting through the gloom like a knife, as the two men stood opposite each other.
'You should know, you asked for this...'
The man stood, about to protest and then stopped himself. He knew the other was right. Again.
'Well?'
'Well, what?'
'Any last words then, Herr Principal?'
'AHAHAHAHA, you are so very funny.' said Anton, sarcasm oozing in his voice.
'Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Anton, happy birthday to yoooouu... ' He said, in a sing-song voice, whilst the man called Anton stood looking no less amused.
'And...? Have you finished your celebrations?' he asked.
'OHO, NO. No, no, no, no. We still have to pull the party popper! No party's a party without a popper. You know, right?'
'What on earth are you on about?'
'Happy birthday... Herr Anton. Or should I say, in actual fact, happy death-day?' said the man clothed in black and white, a sick smile now appearing on his face. He adjusted his bow tie, and pulled out from his left breast pocket a sleek, shiny black double-barrel revolver, and pressed the muzzle right up against Anton's chest.
'It's loaded.' He said.
Silence greeted his words. The atmosphere in the room was becoming tenser by the minute.
'Hurry up...'Anton said, his voice now sounding mechanical with no life to it. 'More or less as it would be in a couple of minutes', he thought grimly.
'If you say so.....I really am so sorry, Herr Anton...' the mans voice trailed off, as his finger closed in on the trigger.
'Hope you have fun, when I'm gone.' Anton said, his voice barely above a whisper.
BANG.
....
Anton's eyes were glazed over as he stumbled and fell backwards, hitting his head on the bookshelf behind him. He landed in a sitting position with his neck at an awkwardly impossible angle.
The killer walked over to Anton's desk, and leant over to press the button of the intercom down. He steadied himself and cleared his throat.
'The principal of Hertz Academy, is dead. I repeat Principal Anton von Hertz is dead.'
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A/N YOU MUST LIKE THIS. WE'RE CRAP, AND UNKNOWN STILL HASN'T GOT A NAME YET. This took 2 months of pestering to do.
