Chapter Text
The bucket swung limply in the air, upside down and now completely empty of all it's contents.
The live band's music came to an awful janky stop, leaving only the dripping of the blood off the bucket to break up the horrified silence of the crowd.
It all happened so fast you'd have to play it back frame by frame just to understand what had happened, it was like it popped in by magic.
The blood was everywhere, it had splashed down hard on Jon, staining his blue velvet suit and ruining his hair worse than an egg to the face ever could.
He looked as if a giant had decided to use him as paint brush and dunked him in dark red paint.
The whole thing covered him head to toe, only tapering off near his hands and knees, and thankfully avoiding the spots around his eyes.
It smelled awful, Metallic like the monkey bars on a hot summer day, but filthy like a barnyard.
When the blood came down it ricocheted off of Jon, hitting everything in it's path from all directions.
It ran down the mural like a thick strawberry glaze, destroying all of the prom committees hard work and the front man for the band's pure white guitar was about 45% splashed red now.
Dani had staggered back when the blood fell, as the blood had hit her and covered most of the side of her dress, changing it from a shimmery honey yellow to a grotesque bloody orange.
Jon had instinctively shut his eyes when the blood hit his head, and he was still holding them shut when the blood was just puddles on the ground now.
The darkness was the only thing he could cling to to escape whatever humiliation had just happened to him.
If he opened his eyes he'd have to acknowledge it happened, he'd have to believe it no matter how much he denied it because it was right in front of him and unescapable.
Even though he could smell the foul stench of the blood, and the wetness going down his back and his clothes suddenly becoming heavy, he promised himself he could ignore all of that if he just kept his eyes shut.
He didn't have to open his eyes to face reality though, for the crowd was already gonna do that for him.
"My god." said Anna "That's blood." she said, astounded.
Hellucard tensely grabbed her arm, "That's not just any blood." He said, transfixed on the soaked prom king right in front of them.
They were close enough to the stage he could smell it from the second row, and the stench was both foul yet incredibly familiar to him.
Hellucard had been working at the Chamberlain slaughter house since he could legally work, and all those years of chopping up animals had made him able to tell the type of live stock just from the smell of the corpse.
If they ever made a game show based on such a grotesque premise he'd win it in a heart beat, that's how good he was at it, and now was no different.
He knew exactly where that blood came from, and had absolutely no reservations about shouting it out for everyone to know.
"That's pigs blood!" He shouted, and an evil cackle left Patryk's mouth, piercing through the back of the crowd, and prompting Jon to finally force his eyes open.
He dropped the bouquet of once perfectly white roses in shock, staining them even more than they had been when the blood initially dropped.
He stared down at his fingers, his trembling, bloody fingers, and let out a pained strenuous whine as the heart break began to finally sink in.
Then he let out an earth shaking primal cry that could cut through the heavens, more heart wrenching than any of his sobs in the boys locker room.
The horrible gut twisting cry of some one forced to relive a thousand cruel jokes all at once.
He put his hands to his face as the tears that were so happy just a second ago were now searing with shameful rage.
They did it.
They somehow made it happen.
After so many years of living an endless nightmare, they managed to break him even further.
They had gone to rock bottom and drilled a hole to the earth's center.
They had promised him it'd be okay, gingerly took his hand and lead him into the pearly gates, gave him everything he ever wanted and more, granted all the sad hopeless wishes he'd stay up all night praying for, built him up into somebody he'd never thought he could even dream to be, all so they could rip it away.
He was a hungry child who they had just given a loaf of bread, only to kick him and take it right back before he could get even so much as a nibble.
They'd brought him out of his cold hard protective shell, just to crush him.
Now the whole gym had started to laugh at him, laughing, pointing, hollering, so amused they might suffocate from it. Everyone was laughing, and there was no corner for him to back his way into and hide.
He walked back a few steps but nearly tripped over his own feet which made everyone laugh even more.
Bing shoved two fingers in his mouth and whistled "Soo-ee! Soo-ee!" Then imitated a pig snort, causing Matt to punch him in the face.
Matt and Dan bolted to the stage to try to calm Jon down, and once Dani got over the shock she tried to help too, but Jon was too far gone to process any of their kind words. Right over them was Tord, who was laughing the hardest out of all of the prom attendees, only stopping his laughter to yell out expletives and insults at Jon that nobody could even hear over all the panic and screaming laughter below.
Jon's mind was slipping down into somewhere else, somewhere where his worst memories played on an infinite loop. The memories began to screech at him, and suddenly even the most positive ones twisted themselves into something worse to mock Jon.
A flood of teenage boys chanting in unison "Plug it up! Plug it up!" Over and over and over drowned out all the genuinely kind words of his Matt and his friends.
More thoughts followed, over lapping each other like some one had switched on a load of tv's to a bunch of different channels then cranked it to full blast. "Trust me Jon! You can trust me-" "-We're all awfully sorry Jack-" "-An eagles just another bird, until it can spread his wings-" "-Plug it up! Plug it up!-" "-they're all gonna laugh at you! they're all gonna laugh at you!-" "-Open your heart! Let jesus in!-" "-We're all awfully sorry Jack-" "-they're all gonna laugh at you! they're all gonna laugh at you!-" "-Plug it up! Plug it up!-" "-Trust me Jon! You can trust me-" "-An eagles just another bird, until it can spread his wings-" "-they're all gonna laugh at you! they're all gonna laugh at you!-" "-We're all awfully sorry Jack-" "-An eagles just another bird, until it can spread his wings-" "-Plug it up! Plug i-" and so on and so fourth. Constantly screaming, constantly looping, never taking even one second to give Jon a moment to breath.
His clothes suddenly felt tighter than spandex, and a heavy invisible force pushed on his chest and made it hard to breath.
Jon thought he might hysterically choke to death on his own tears in that moment, yes oh yes, that sounded very possible, in fact he was almost certain it was happening right now.
Oh god papa, if only you were here, oh god oh god oh god, if only you were here, but papa was here wasn't he? Yes, he could see him, beyond the bright spotlights and pretty prom goers he was running between all of them with his bible, cast in shadow and wickedly smiling at Jon's divine comeuppance.
He had gone too far from the light of heaven and fell from the towers just like jezebel so foolishly did for her sinful nature.
He'd sinned and this was his punishment. This was his hell.
Oh god oh god oh god this was HELL.
He was in HELL.
Matt took off his suit jacket to try and cover Jon up and hide his shame but he pushed him away, fleeing in a fit of rabid and hysterical panic.
He covered his eyes with his forearm as more tears fell down, too embarrassed and furious to look at any of the beautiful students anymore.
Their ball gowns and perfectly tailored tuxedos weren't so wonderful to Jon now, and only felt like they were there to accentuate the joke.
There they were, perfect, smiling, happy, beautiful, a part of the joke, accepted and free, and then there was Jon, screaming, crying, covered head to toe in gore, and stinking like a slaughter house.
Matt reached out his hand towards him and tried to follow him, but before he could, Tom and Tord started to get in a scuffle above him.
Tord just kept sitting there watching the whole ordeal despite Tom's insistence that they needed to get out of there.
He was tugging on Tord's arm, trying to pull him up and away but Tord just kept sitting there laughing maniacally at Jon's misfortune, until eventually he tugged him too hard and Tord accidentally let go of the rope.
Both Tom and Tord stopped their fighting and stood completely still as they waited for the inevitable crash.
The bucket fell down hard and fast, hitting Matt right in the back of the head, The impact sending him right down to the floor. Tom and Tord gasped in unison then rushed out the door, their feet making loud clanging noises on the platform as they tried to run away from their crime scene. The crowd laughed some more at Matt being hit, not realizing how seriously injured he was from the impact.
Even Dani and Dan, who were so preoccupied checking on Matt they couldn't chase after Jon, didn't fully understand what was happening.
There was just too much blood and too many hysterical people for them to notice he was injured that badly, to them, it looked as though he'd just been knocked out unconcious like one of the three stooges.
He wasn't just knocked out though, there was a huge split in the back of his head from the bucket that had damaged his brain and was making him bleed out super fast.
His conscious was slowly fading, his thoughts becoming more child like and simple until he could hardly construct them into full sentences anymore.
Within the next ten minutes, Matt would be dead and gone, his last few thoughts being a disjointed garbled mess of concerns about Jon and innocently wondering why his brain hurt so badly.
Jon couldn't notice this either though, for he was still running through the mob of students, who had now begun to side step him like he had the plauge.
Mark ran at him with wide open arms, blocking the exit, his face horrified yet sympathetic.
"Jon come here! Let me-" Jon didn't wanna hear anyone's pity right now, he threw his arm up and Mark was suddenly pushed backwards into one of the tables. Headmaster McCoy quickly ran and helped him to his feet, but Jon was not given such kindness from any of his class as one person demonstrated by rudely sticking their leg out to trip him.
He fell down, skidding forward and leaving a gross bloody stain as he injured his knees from the fall.
He got on all fours and crawled the rest of the way out of the gymnasium, only standing back up when he knew for a fact there was no one around who would trip him again.
Jon had half expected some one to kick him in the ass right after he fell as the cherry on top to an already humiliating experience, but they thankfully spared him that humiliation.
He left through the hallway doors and went out the school's front entrance.
It had no people in it and the gym's outer door's were still locked tight to keep Edd out, who was still very much there, and still very much screaming to be let back in.
He ran and ran until he flung open the main entrance doors with his mind so forcefully the glass almost busted, then rushed so clumisly down the school steps he lost both of his shoes and had to run the rest of the way barefoot.
He kept on running until he came to the edge of the school yard and his feet suddenly tangled together, making him fall onto the grass.
He flipped himself over, letting the itchy cold grass and weeds brush against his hot panicked face.
He was in the midst of hyperventilation, but laying in the grass seemed to help slow it down.
The tears however, did not cease in the slightest, if anything, they flowed even harder now that he could sit alone and stew on all that had just happened.
The cruelty, the humiliation, the sheer wickedness of such an awful prank.
Who on earth could do something so vile? He'd been bullied for so long and had been bullied by so many, yet nobody was ever like this.
Were they all in on it? It seemed like it, he certainly wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing was a horrible twisted joke from the start, just like he'd thought it was.
All of them were in on it weren't they? All of them just did it to make him suffer more, didn't they?
Well they suceeded, they got their little freak to go to the prom and they got to point and laugh at him one more time before they graduated.
They'd done him in for good this time, and totally beaten him into submission.
They were all probably still laughing now, wiping away their happy tears with their fancy hankercheifs before they went right back to their party.
He wanted to know who did this to him, what sick twisted son of a bitch thought of something that nasty? Was it Matt? Jon didn't wanna think that was a possibility, he could believe it was Dani or Dan or even Mr. Desjardin and Mr. McCoy but he could never let himself think it was Matt, that could be the only thing to make it worse.
Was it Edd? It would make so much sense if it was him, he'd never talked to him before and now he suddenly wanted to act all buddy buddy like the past never happened, but if he did then why did he- WAIT.
Jon shot up from where he was laying and remembered something very hazy. Everything prior to this moment was a total blur for him, all he could recall was the awful panicked rush in his tummy and the screeching laughter, everything except for one key moment: right between the the second the blood splashed him and the niave moment of bliss, he caught a glimpse of some one far above him, grinning evilly with a pair of perfectly curled hair horns sticking out from under his hoodie.
Jon heart skipped a beat in shock, he KNEW who had done this to him, and it was so obvious he almost wanted to smack himself on the side of his head for being so clueless.
Of course it was Tord and some nameless accomplice, who the hell else would it be? He laid back down with a traumatized whimper as new tears rolled down his cheeks and landed in the dirt below him. Everything was so perfect, a fairytale right out of a disney movie or a picture book you'd read to a precious child.
They were beautiful, the dance was beautiful, HE was beautiful, but it was all gone down the drain now.
The fairytale had melted into a viscous green ooze, like some one stuck a painting in the oven and watched the paint dribble down the canvas.
Jon was far too emotional to think clearly about what to do next, all he could think to do really was just roll onto his side and sob.
He wished somebody would pick him up and carry him home.
He wanted to go back to his papa.
He wanted to go back to his blanketless bed. He wanted to listen to the sermons on the radio and sew and hear his papa go on long nevet ending rants about the gospel. All he really wanted was to go back, back before this all began and he'd known how amazing acceptance felt.
A sudden pang of sorrow hit his chest, as he realized now was probably the que to crawl his way back home.
He'd walk carefully through the neighborhood, sobbing quietly and avoiding any people he saw until he got back home.
He'd get down on his knees and grovel to his father, plead for forgiveness and admit the cold harsh truth that he was totally right.
He'd beg to be saved once more, confess that all his desires and lust for independance were ridiculous, hopeless, and utterly blasphemous.
Then would come the preaching and the beating and screaming and the horrifying pit of darkness that was the praryer closet and then he wou- "NO!!" Jon's mind screeched.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!! NEVER AGAIN!!!" And suddenly Jon's mind went completely blank.
No thoughts of going home, no self pity, no more sobs or whimpers, there was nothing.
Nothing but a scorching hot rage that was beggining to trickle through out his entire body.
He was really slipping away now, not just his mind, but himself as he knew it.
As the rage continued to spread, and his heart began to throb like the worst migraine you'd ever had in your life, Jon was becoming a third party in his own body.
The thoughts he'd usually have enough consciousness to push away or feel ashamed for were running wild inside him, and any chance he might have gone home was thrown out the window.
It wasn't over, they might have had their fun but nothing was over until Jon got to have his.
All the anger that had been brewing inside him for seventeen years was ebbing away at his sanity as he stood there seething on the grass.
They'd all had their turn to laugh and they'd taken more from Jon than he could ever get back, nothing would ever repair the pain and agony he'd been suffering.
But Jon didn't wanna repair it anymore, repairing it all was a dream that died the second that bucket poured.
No, no, no, what Jon wanted now... was to DESTROY.
He wanted to break, snap, take, push, shove, bend, stomp, and CRUSH.
He wanted to BURN.
He wanted REVENGE.
And Jon was supremely lucky enough to have just the power to do it.
He stared forward at the school he'd once wandered and spent some of the worst moments of his life in.
He blinked a few times, imagining the whole place erupting into a fiery inferno, with busted windows and screams emitting from inside.
Then Jon began to softly chuckle to himself.
Then that chuckle turned into a giggle, and that giggle turned into a full on laugh, and then that simple laugh broke into deranged out of breath cackle.
He cackled and cackled and cackled until he had to stop to take a deep breath.
Jon was gone now, slinked back into the corners of his mind while some one else took control, the overwhelming stress and trauma of the situation practically forcing him into the back seat.
But there was no reason to fear, Jon had no reason to fear anything anymore.
He had flung Mr. Desjardin into a table with just the raise of a hand, imagine what he could do if he really tried!
But Jon didn't have to imagine that kind of stuff anymore, he no longer had to sit idly by and just wait for the next inevitable punch or kick me sign to be taped to his back.
Jon could do much better than imagine. Jon could do!
He looked down at his own twitchy wriggly little fingers and grinned, then balled them up into tight furious fists.
A cold chill filled the air as wind pushed through his blood soaked bangs and Jon shivered with delight.
He grinned even wider and carefully took his first step back towards the school, filled with so much rage he simply couldn't keep it all in his body anymore, so his legs became just as shakey as his fingers.
He stomped inside and thrust open the doors, his face purposefully vacant of any life or emotion, making him almost look like a corpse that learned to stand up and walk on it's own.
At first they didn't notice he was there, for nearly everyone in the room was so focused on attending to Matt's corpse they forgot Jon was ever even here at all.
They had just lifted him up and taken him off the stage a few minutes ago when he didn't get back up after repeatedly being shaked, and now they were all pretty sure he was either on the brink of death or already died while they were busy laughing.
Jon didn't particularly care whether or not they noticed him now though.
They'd notice him soon enough, they'd notice him and they'd never be able not to notice him after this.
Jon creeped onto the stage, making sure to take his sweet sweet time getting to the center of it.
He wanted this to go on for as long as humanely possible for them to make up for the seventeen years they'd made him suffer through, but even an eternity of torture and revenge wouldn't ease his burden.
Whispers carried through the swarms of students upon noticing Jon, no doubt wondering why and how he would ever come back after such a humiliating ordeal. He closed his eyes and slowly raised his arms up, letting his awful thoughts run rampant and scream inside his head as much as he wanted.
More bad thoughts came, but they only served to fuel Jon's wrath at this point.
The thoughts swirled around inside his already quite disorientated brain, layering over top one another and merging into even worse thoughts until he couldn't even make out the words anymore.
As the thoughts kept swirling around students began to gasp in horror as they noticed the blood that had been dripping down Jon's juxedo this whole time, had now miraculously started to drip upwards, but that was not the only thing that began to float.
A good portion of the decorations started to levitate as Jon's thoughts continued to whirr.
The students whispers became louder at the incredible sight, many of them turning to ask their dates if they were also seeing this or if they were just hallucinating.
Now the lights were starting to flicker on and off and buzz loudly, and Paul decided he'd had enough of this and tried to tug on Patryk's arm to get him to leave.
The thoughts were now at that absolute loudest, the loudest they'd ever been, a never ending barrage of fanatical religious rambles and torturous taunts, but one stood out among the rest and shot it's way through the darkness of his subconcious. From a voice deep within himself came words that his father had beaten in him long ago, but had taken on an entirely new meaning now: "GOD HAS SEEN YOUR SINNING JUST BEGGINING! PRAY FOR YOUR SALVATION FROM DAMNATION!", the screeching thought hit Jon's psyche like a rock being thrown through a window, shattering into a million little shards.
Then suddenly, with out any warning, Jon flung his hands down and opened his eyes to let it all go.
And for the Ewen high class of 1979, the whole god damn world seemed to explode.
An incredibly fast and unstoppable thrust of force sent all the decorations Jon was lifting, aswell as all the students below him, flying to the back of the room with the strength of a seven nation army.
The crowd could hardly understand what just happened, but before they could get up Jon popped all the blue prom lights above him, sending glass shards tumbling down to the floor and basking the entire prom in a hellishly pure red glow.
A surge of students raced to the locked door, assuming with all their strength combined they could break the lock and escape, and although they were correct, they only got to see a smidge of freedom before Jon slammed that door, as well as every other door, shut with him mind.
Edd, who was still banging on the door and screaming for some one to open it jumped back in horror at the sudden sight of his screaming class mates.
Larry desperately poked his arm through the door and screamed out "Help!! Help us!! Call 99-" before Jon slammed it, snapping his forearm in half.
Horrified, Edd scrambled to the dumpster again and climbed back on top to peek through the windows once more.
He watched on in terror as the sea of students who had been laughing like mad men only five minutes ago were now screaming and begging for mercy.
Bing looked around desperately for any kind of exit, only to be spotted by Jon who quickly picked up one of the tables and threw it at him from across the room.
The last thing bing ever felt in his short life was the cold hard crush of his body between the gym wall and the table, and the feeling like his organs were gonna pop righr out of him.
He and the table slid back down from the wall, and Bing slumped over like an old dummy with out an owner, with a similar dead glassy look in his eyes, causing his class to scream even louder.
Jon looked up towards the fire sprinklers ans twisted them on, sending a flood of rain down from above to ruin all their fancy clothes and hair, just like they had done to his outfit.
Jon's one and only regret was that the water couldn't have been blood.
Now people were slipping and sliding all over the hard gym floors, with Anna Shyres even falling face first into a punch bowl. She tried to pull herself back up but couldn't, something was stopping her and making sure she would never resurface from the pink sugary liquid.
At first she was just trying to get out, then when she couldn't she began to wildly flail her arms like a child drowning in the deep end of a pool, and making very similar sounds to it too.
This went on for a bit until the flailing stopped suddenly and her arms fell back down, limp and lifeless.
His next target was the big disco ball that was still spinning in the center of the room, completely unharmed by the sudden chaos around it.
He closed his eyes again and imagined the dark hollow interior of the ball, a pair of strong imaginary hands with out a body appeared, carressing the enterior with odd delight.
Now the hands were pressing on the inside as hard as humanely possible, and when that didn't work they pressed down even harder.
The pressure inside the ball was rising now, and mild cracking noises began to come from the inside, until eventually the whole thing spontaneously combusted, sending a shimmery cascade of disco shards down into the students faces and arms.
As the glass and water continued to rain down on them, Headmaster McCoy tried to desperately scream "Turn off the amps! Turn off the amps!" At the live band, but by then it was already too late to save them. All four members of the Dark Sides began shake with deadly high voltage electricity until they all suddenly dropped down dead in a mess of sparks.
"The bleachers!" Hellucard shrieked and pointed, running towards the closed beachers with his friends to pull them out so they could run up them and break a window.
Ten more students followed suit, but the bleachers began to rumble and shake just before anyone could get to the top.
Jon was repeatedly slamming them shut now, over and over until the bleachers looked like the great gnashing jaws of a giant monster.
Everyone who had climbed up was now tumbling back down and falling in between the smashing rows, where they were almost instantly crushed to death with out a second thought.
Hellucard had very nearly made it out, and even manage to catch Edd watching all it happen, but just as he screamed for him to help, his foot slipped and he fell between the last two rows.
The bleachers crushed him from from the upper body down, breaking all of his bones and pressing all his organs together until he couldn't do anything but cough up blood.
Jon was still standing on the stage during all this, scarily still aside from his rabidly twitching hands and his mouth, which was still cackling even now as people rushed around and screamed for their lives.
Larry grabbed a chair and ran up to the stage to break Jon's limbs and hopefully his concentration, but Jon made sure he never got to do either.
The second Larry even touched the bloody stage Jon snapped his neck with out hesitation, then flung his body in the air with a great big push.
His body landed right on the window, leaving a massive bloody smear and cracking the glass.
Edd was so startled and frightened he stummbled back and fell off the boxes he was standing on.
When he picked himself up Edd was almost entirely sure he'd fractured his wrist, but was too terrified to even process the pain.
He ran to the nearest payphone and frantically called 999 with his newly injured wrist.
He honest to god couldn't even tell what was happening in there, how the f*ck do you describe something like that to somebody over the phone?
So, when the operator asked what his emergency was all Edd could do was stammer out some nonsense about an explosion and screaming kids at the Ewen prom.
Just then, a warm orangey glow emitted from every window in the building, and Edd had to drop the payphone in horror as he the realized that the whole gym had suddenly burst into flames.
A few minutes ago Jon flipped all the tables, causing the candles on top turn into flaming projectiles that soon hit all the curtains and ignited them in a wonderfully grim inferno.
The fire spread quickly until the whole stage was covered in flames, and yet, Jon still showed no fear or loss of focus as the fire grew behind him.
Dani had taken off her high heels in an attempt to run faster, but the only thing it made easier was slipping on the floor, so her brother had to grab her hand and try to pull her along out of there.
One of the large carboard stars attached to the ceiling fell on the stage and immediately ignited into flames, startling everyone.
Jon picked it up and hurled it towards the frightened siblings, making them both let go of one another and jump back.
The object missed Dan completely, but Dani wasn't nearly so lucky, as the flaming star had caught her prom dress on fire and quickly spread.
She screamed and twirled as the flames spread all through out her dress and body, flailing her arms just like Anna had done when she drowned in the punch.
She flailed and screamed some more until she collapsed into a badly burned corpse on the ground in front of her brother, but Jon still wasn't done with Dan.
Even though he had dodged one star, Jon knew he couldn't possibly dodge another, and ripped one right off the ceiling to throw at him.
The massive star soared through the air at such speed Dan didn't even stand a chance at dodging it.
By the time Dan could understand he was about to die, it was already too late, and the large star had driven one of it's points into his chest, pinning him against the wall just like Bing.
Then, Jon's eyes landed on Mr Diwi, who was with Mr. Desjardin cowering in fear from all the chaos around them.
An evil little smirk formed on his face the second he spotted him, and a rope emerged from the stage, the very same rope attached to the bloody steel bucket that started it all.
It lunged out at him, and although he tried to dodge it, his squirming wasn't very effective against Jon's godly power.
The rope wrapped itself tightly around his neck, twisting into a nearly inescapable knot that gave him rope burn, then began to pull him towards the stage as he dragged his feet and screamed.
Mr. Desjardin was forced to watch on in horror as his dear friend and colleague was hoisted far up into the rafters, where he would stay until he finally strangled to death and his body gave out.
Jon laughed at the sight of his frantic kicking legs, no doubt likening it to a funny uncoordinated dance in his mind.
Just then, a horrible feeling pressed against his throat, almost like some one had just grabbed him and dug their nails into his skin.
Jon was picking him up know, raising him up high and choking him just as he did to Mr. Diwi.
Mark was near certain he was about to die, but then something incredible happened.
There was a change in Jon's expression.
It wasn't very noticeable, and Mark wasn't even sure what he saw was real or if his brain wanted to pretend it was more comforting than it really was, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of concern in his eyes.
A brief moment of sanity and rational had crossed his mind for some reason, and suddenly, Mark's throat didn't hurt anymore.
He tossed him off to the side, much more gently than the others but still hard enough it sprained Mark's elbow.
Now Jon was taking out the fire hose to spray everyone down, and with the powers of his telekinesis he could make the water rush out as fast as he wanted.
Fast enough it knocked people off their feet, and strong enough it even ruptured a kid's ear drum.
Next came the wires connected to the lights, which he ripped out all at once, creating more sparks that flew all around the stage.
The wires writhed around like girthy black snakes as they headed their way out to the dance floor, and the horrifying realization of what Jon was about to do hit Mark like a ton of bricks.
He began to hyperventilate as his eyes darted around at all the soaking wet attendees and cried out "GET OFF THE FLOOR!!!" Before hopping onto one of the few chairs that hadn't been flipping over.
Sadly, almost nobody heard his screams and just continued to run through the large puddles until the wires stuck themselves in it and the whole place lit up like the fourth of july.
Headmaster McCoy was one of many to be electrocuted, having died in the midst of screaming for everyone to not panic, ultimately collapsing on the floor when he did not heed his own advice and ran into a sparking puddle.
For most of the kids who did avoid being electrocuted though, they still were not safe from Jon's rage.
He curled the wires around some of their legs and yanked them towards the fires, with only a few escaping before they could be burned alive with their all their friends. Paul and Patryk hid behind one of the flipped over tables in absolute terror, Paul was violently sobbing while Patryk couldn't bear to look away from the atrocity behind them.
Jon noticed them cowering, and the mere fact that they had somehow manage to survive this long filled him with insatiable bloodlust.
He slammed the table against the wall and glared at them with a wicked smile, as if to say "You can't hide from me! I'll make you SUFFER for hiding from me!".
Patryk took Paul by the hand and attempted to lead him to safety, they made a break for it but were both stopped by the whip of one of the wires and knocked down to the ground.
When they tried to get back up they realized they couldn't, as Jon's mind was pinning them down with extreme force.
Itt felt like somebody had put two ten pound rocks on each of their backs, and the weight only grew the longer they stayed pinned down.
Paul and Patryk were absolutely terrified, and assumed Jon was planning to keep them there until they both popped from the pressure, but he had a much different plan for them.
The doors to the hallway burst open, leaving Paul and Patryk just an arms length away from escape.
All the students who had survived until now flooded the exit, completely ignoring that Paul and Patryk were still pinned to the ground beneath their feet.
The crowd trampled them, their sharp stilettos heels and shiney dress shoes digging their way into their spines and breaking their necks.
They screamed and begged for them to stop and help until their vocal coards went hoarse, with not even one person stopping to help them get back up.
Jon smiled at their corpses, then busted into another malicious cackle.
He flung the other doors open and slowly made his way down the stage and outside, sweeping any dead students that had collapsed in front of him right out of his sight like they were common litter.
A sick sense of pride and satisfaction was filling his broken mind now, and Jon didn't want it to ever go away.
He had never thought revenge could be so intoxicating, but by god, it was, it really was, and the thrill of the kill was the most intoxicating part of it all.
Stepping back into the cool may night was like being reborn, a whole new spirit was inside Jon, and this spirit wanted to go wild.
All of his enemies in the gym might have been dead, but the fun was just beggining. Tonight, hell was coming to Chamberlain, england, and every street was gonna turn into rivers of foul animal blood.
He snickered to himself, finding the mental image of a blood stained town simply delightful.
The sound of firetrucks suddenly filled the air and Jon's mood soured, knowing they'd arrive to extinguish the fires and ruin his all his hard work very soon.
There was no reason to pout though, all he had to do was destroy all the fire hydrants, and for Jon that was practically a walk in the park.
He crushed them all at once like they were empty soda cans, and giggled madly, then turned to leave.
He stopped walking for a moment though to take notice of a distinctly ugly pick up truck zooming away from the scene of the crime with a familiar horn haired passenger.
Jon wasn't sure if Tord saw him, but he sure as f*ck saw Tord, and the sight of him made him so angry he started to force cracks to form in the side walk with each new step he took.
"It's not over." Jon thought, imagining a million different deliciously agonizing ways for Tord to die as he and Tom drove away.
"No, not by a long shot." he giggled, picturing the entire town of Chamberlain, England crumbling into holy damnation, a damnation that would become a reality very soon.
And Jon just couldn't wait.
