William Rose - Cry Havoc

He was moving so very slowly now. The life draining out of him. Sprays of blood coming up with his weak coughs. The wheezing sound of chest wounds as he struggled for breath.

She leaned in close to his ear and whispered.

“How bad do you want me now, Richard?”

He tried to say something, to form words, but there was only a gurgle from somewhere within his chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

She gave the knife in his chest a little twist.

“… dick .”

She’d watched him die in that classroom. Had waited to make sure there was nothing he could do, no way that he could wiggle out of this one. But she didn’t have to wait long. By the time two cigarettes had been smoked down to the filter and crushed out on his stomach, he was dead.

Outside, the sun had just begun to rise above the horizon. Time to move on. There had to be a way out of this town. And she would find it, even if it meant swimming ten miles upriver. She would find a way out and would try to reclaim her old life again. Or at least as much of it as she could. Be she would never be the same. She had changed. She knew this.

She reached for the black t-shirt on the desk and was getting ready to pull it back over her shoulders when she paused.

Instead of putting it on, she laid it flat on Mrs. Haversham’s desk and walked to the blackboard where she picked up a piece of chalk. Returning to the desk she scrawled a quick message across the front of the shirt, bearing down so hard that she snapped the chalk twice.

Then she pulled the shirt over her head and walked away from Richard’s mutilated body. He had no eyes to read this particular message, no brain function to interpret it. But that was okay. It wasn’t meant for him anyway. None of it ever was.

Polly stepped out of the school and into the morning sunlight.

The long night was over and, oddly enough, the birds were singing.

But she could still hear the gunfire. Could still smell the smoke and see the out of control flames licking at the skyline.

And she walked toward this warren of chaos, armed only with her knife and a black t-shirt with words scrawled in chalk across the front. Words which gave her hope and reassured her that, no matter what happened, she would find a way to make it out of this hellhole alive. She was smart. She was strong. And her t-shirt said it all: BE YOUR OWN HERO.

“ Bring it on, baby. Mamma’s comin’ home.”

William Todd Rose is a speculative fiction author currently residing in Parkerburg, West Virginia. His short fiction has appeared in magazines such as Macabre Cadaver , OG’s Speculative Fiction , and the now-defunct Twisted Nipples as well as being featured in various anthologies. His experimental horror novel, "Shadow of the Woodpile" was released in 2009 and he is currently at work on his next project.