"Good Afternoon students, take a seat and no need to get ready for the lesson. It's a verbal lesson, and its only short anyway."
"Im Mr Demarco and today I have an important thing to say." Mr Demarco continued
"Today, you will die." the teacher spoke. His tone was cold, serious and unwavering. "For those who didn't hear me or wasn't paying attention, I'll say it once more. Today, you will die." Uproar ensued. Curses and insults that made no sense flew at the teacher. It was a class of no more than 30 students, but it felt like a crowd of 900.
I sat there in the corner of the class, as unfazed as the teacher. 'He must be joking.' I thought, and others probably thought the same. The doors of the class locked. Students quickly crowded them and tried to force them open.
"There's no use, the doors are weld shut, you can't break through." The teacher continued.
"LIKE HELL THEY ARE, LET US OUT NOW YOU FUCKER!" a student called.
'Desmond Lloyd, pretty popular for his muscular build and athleticism, extremely tempered to the point he will even go after teachers.
"Around 6'2, 167lbs, very sluggish and easily agitated," Mr Demarco noted down. I watched Desmond barge through the students and towards the teacher. He towered over her.
"You're not very intimidating, take a seat and I'll explain." The teacher mocked him. By now the attention had shifted to Desmond and the teacher.
"You think just cause you're a teacher I won't beat your ass?" Desmond threatened. There was silence. For 3 whole minutes Mr Demarco stared into Desmond's eyes, with no movement.
For a moment, I caught his gaze. It was just like mine. Cold and solitary. Everyday when I looked in the mirror in the morning, that same gaze with no fear, no anger, no pain yet full of meaning. That look told me everything I needed to hear, without saying anything for me to hear.
'He's just like me.' I thought briefly. Desmond turned away and sat down.
"Now, let me explain myself." The rest of the class followed Desmond and returned to their seats. "I don't blame you for freaking out. The threat is very real." The same, monotone voice. No emotion, devoid of any feelings at all.
"We've selected this class, based on your overall physical and intellect, to be apart of a world wide program. This is one of the many classes chosen from the whole country." Mr Demarco spoke.
'Our school isn't exactly elite, but we are above average. But of the whole country?' I thought. My eyes were glued to the man at the front. "What has this got to do with us dying?" A girl called out.
"Questions will be answered after this final message." Mr Demarco began. "This program, is to create an organisation of the most elite agents on the planet. The peacekeeper project. You will go on a 4 year course, training you theoretically and practically to protect the world as it progresses further into the future. Of course you may decline."
'I struggle to believe this is true, it might actually be fake. It doesn't matter though, I would have said yes, add a little action to my life, or something.' I thought.
The room burst into laughter, but the teacher stayed as poker faced as before. "Any questions?" Mr Demarco asked.
"What do you mean by us dying today?" The girl from before asked. She had taken the situation seriously, and seemed scared.
"Anyone who decides to decline, will be shot and killed here, while those who accept will have their death faked with a series of bombs that were planted around the school building, enough to wipe all evidence and traces possible. We couldn't let you guys free, knowing about this of course, its secret."
I could feel it, the eruption of the class was about to happen. "Raise your hands if you're willing to participate, future peacekeepers." Mr Demarco continued.
"You can't be fucking serious." Desmond mocked. "You really expect us to believe you, huh?" his anger, was a representation of the rest of the class. "You say you'll kill us?" Desmond stood up. "SHOOT ME YOU BASTARD, I DECLINE YOUR STUPID PROJECT!"
"Is there anyone else who declines?" The teacher stepped away from the board, and came to the back off the class. "If you decline, please line up in front of me."
Chairs screeched on the polished wooden floors. Out of the 30 students in the class, 6 remained in their seats, waiting.
"I see, 24 students, 30 bullets." The teacher pulled out a standard glock, however it was matte black with a suppressor attached to the barrel. "Rest in peace children."
The first student dropped to the floor. The bang was quiet, and the bullet killed the boy instantly. Then another bang, more like a click sound, and the girl fell to the floor. Screams raged throughout the class.
It was a massacre, the teacher kept the same cold face, shooting down anyone who wasn't the 6 who had stayed sitting.
"PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU DON'T KILL ME!"
There was no turning back. No pleading, apologies. None of it would amount to a change of pace. One shot, one kill. Each and every one of them.
And last came Desmond. "You would have done well, Desmond. Maybe if you weren't such a little shit. Maybe if you had kept your mouth fucking shut, you wouldn't be clawing away at the door, surrounded by your dead classmates in a pool of blood caused by your 'rebellion'." the teacher cackled.
"PLEASE, I BEG YOU. FORGIVE ME. LET ME LIVE. I'LL JOIN YOUR CLUB. PLEASE!" Desmond begged for mercy.
"I felt nothing killing the others. But for you, this feels great. I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile." Mr Demarco laughed. His face had changed, he no longer was cold. A smile spread across his face.
"I'll take off the suppressor so you can all hear what a gun really sounds like." Mr Demarco slowly unscrewed the suppressor. The screech of it untightening, as if it was counting down towards Desmond's death.
It was a literal bloodbath. The red blood had dyed our school clothes and our hands. And far worse, our minds. This day would not be forgotten. And yet, within all this my face had stayed the same. No emotion, no expression. The same cold gaze.
"You didn't take me seriously. Today, you will die."
***BANG***