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"Beyond The Edge of Sanity" A Short Story

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She was around here somewhere. She had to be. A person doesn't simply vanish into thin air. Especially not one who had just murdered twenty people in the same building during the last hour. But, damn, she was hard to find! To Mark it felt like he had passed through these blood marked halls at least fifteen times now, and nothing had changed. No new footprints, no new bullet holes, or screams...

Or bodies.

Mark ran up the next stairwell he saw, hoping that he would find his target on the third floor. Again he tore throught the hallways, peeking into each and every classroom he passed looking for other survivors, but only finding more of those same forty pound containers of homemade ANFO that haunted the school. Wondering how and when she had gotten them in the building, or how she had made it were questions for another time. He had to find her fast. He didn't know if she actually would destroy the school, but he didn't really want to find out, either. At least not from this distance.

He finished checking the last room, still finding nobody, and ran straight towards the last place left to check: The roof. It wasn't very probable seeing as how the police were outside in huge numbers, but she wasn't anywhere else.

His feet pounded on the stairs as he put the last of his might into making it up. At the top, he stumbled through a door that should've been locked and right into the barrel of a shotgun.

"You should've listened," was the last thing he heard before a hideous crack sent him back down the stairs, blood trailing from multiple holes in his gut. Straining to move even his eyes, he looked up to the top of the stairs and saw the one he had been looking for. The one who had just pumped him full of lead.

"E... lz... a...." He rasped. His head sagged to one side, bringing him face to face with yet another container of ANFO. For some reason, he still feared that stuff. Even though he was about to die from excessive bleeding, the thought of a painful, fiery death still had weight. He began shaking. It was getting cold. Thought after thought began to race through his mind. Each one held a common theme: Why?




"Because I hate you. I hate all of you. Every single person down to the last unborn infant. Everything you people do, and everything you have ever done." Mark realized that he'd been mouthing the word and stopped. He looked out the side of his eyes and saw Elza staring right back at him, her face so beautiful even when stained in blood. Elza conitnued: "And I hate you because nobody sees the real issues, nobody tries to fix things, nobody ever cares. It's all about me, me, me! If they want a world where people only look after themselves, then I'm here to deliver it!"


Elza backed away from him and out of sight. She chuckled, no, she laughed, a cackling the likes of which belonged to one who was far from sanity. "Why am I telling you this!? What point is there in telling someone so close to the end!?" Her laughing continued. To Mark it seemed that she was moving away, and she probably was. She wouldn't have any intention of staying behind and dying if she was going to turn the world to anarchy. Tears welled in his eyes for the first time since this whole ordeal began. He didn't want to die. He had never wanted to die; he never even thought to plan for the possibility, either. All he had ever wanted was a good life, a girlfriend, eventually a wife, a good job. And all of that had been taken from him by the very person who he had hoped to share it with. As he wept, a new sound could be heard; the din of people screaming, gunshots being fired and cars moving away. Then it was quiet.

And then nothing... Nothing at all... Had Mark lived longer, he might've been able to witness the split second after an ANFO explosion. Perhaps it was a mercy that he didn't have to. Nobody shall ever know.



I don't know why, but I have a distinct love for stories that don't always end well. Darker themes in general are just more interesting to me, so it comes as no surprise that much of what I write ends up that way. Not always, but a good deal of the time it does. It'll be some time yet before this starts to leak into Square-Headed(it won't be this extreme, don't worry). I know I could prevent it, but I write what what I like and I think it'll be great.

I should've posted this earlier. It would've been more timely. Better late than never, I suppose

"Beyond The Edge of Sanity" is owned soley by Jeff Hackmann, AKA Dark-NESS. The beliefs and ideas of Elza are not endorsed by the afforemention party in any shape, way, or fashion.