Fatal Attractions

Chapter Eight: Playing Cat and Mouse

Juliet was the mouse, and she had fallen for the tomcats tricks.

As she watched Bryce squint through the small window, she wasn't sure how she had never noticed it before. Plainly visible was the cold, hostile glare of a sociopath. In horror movies, when the naive girl befriends the kidnapper, the audience roars; "What are you doing? Don't you see the crazy look in his eyes!"

The violent gleam that was so palpable in movies didn't exist in the real world. The serial killer could look utterly normal, completely human, and that was petrifying.

Outside the classroom, Bryce relished in the fear he was causing. He could already have broken in, blown the heads off the ostentatious students, and tortured Chase to death, but he was enjoying observing their reactions. The longer he stood in the hall, the more fearful they became. He didn't need to worry about the school officer stopping him. He had been the first to die.

After yesterday, everything had changed. He had finally found the inner strength to make his dreams come true. Over the years he had perfected this scheme in his imagination. Back then, it had only been a fantasy, something to pass the dull hours of daily life, but now it was time for him to solidify it into reality.

Only one thing wasn't going as he wished, and this irked him terribly; Juliet.

The shooting had played out in his mind in a specific fashion thousands of times. First, he would break into the school and gun down the Greeting Entourage. Anyone in his way would be shot without hesitation. He would make his way to Juliet's classroom, and upon seeing him she would prance towards him, unlock the door, and together they would make everyone pay. When the names were all scratched off the list, they would drive East towards Utah, hiding out in a western hotel together. He had even brought her a gun. There was a beautiful, sleek revolver in his duffel bag. A gun with a feminine touch. Together they would be Bonnie & Clyde; unstoppable lovers, flinging civilization to pieces one person at a time.

Except that wasn't happening.

Not only was Juliet not joining him, but she was hiding. With Chase. Chase was so close to her that their sides touched.

The only thing that made Bryce feel better was the fact that Chase was sobbing, clearly fearing for his life. Even if his plan wasn't unraveling smoothly, he was still in control. Playfully, he smiled, raising a finger to his lips. Hush, everything will be okay.

Juliet -his love- squeezed Chase's hand, placing it in her lap. Consoling him. Rage coursed through Bryce's veins. Chase had stolen his notebook, but apparently that hadn't been enough for him. Now, he was stealing his girl. That motherfucker would suffer.

He backed away from the door, momentarily returning to the shadows. Raising his gun high above his head, he slammed the grip down with jarring force. Students screamed their way towards death. With the small window broken, Bryce shoved his hand inside and fumbled for the lock.

Juliet watched Bryce's hand locate the lock and snap it off. Almost casually, Bryce Colgress strolled into the room. An M1911 Pistol dangled from his right hand. The duffel bag that held Juliet's gun was swung over his shoulder, steel bullets clanging inside.

He wore a black tank top that showcased his bulging muscles. Juliet had no idea he was so shredded. The dull Waylord uniform had hidden his figure well. Compared to Bryce, Chase looked like a meal-worm against an osprey.

The only safety net the students had was compromised. They were now at his mercy. The shooter closed and locked the door. Clicking into place, the lock sounded final. It was the music that played during the credits of a movie telling the audience "the end."

"Alright," Bryce snarled, "let's have some fun."