17. STRANGERS
THE SUSPECT:
MY “REAL” NAME IS NOT IMPORTANT. YOU MAY CALL ME The Suspect, as I undoubtedly will be branded as such in the coming days.
From this day forth, my deeds shall be my namesake. Grim though it may be, we must destroy this world so that the next shall prosper.
It is without remorse or hesitation that we undertake this journey to salvation.
We do this without fear or doubt, for we are a great legion of Strangers united in our pursuit of the greater good.
Let it be known that this day marks the birth of our Final Solution.
Onward and upward,
—THE SUSPECT
I STARED AT THE LETTER THAT I HAD WRITTEN FOR A MOMENT before folding it and placing it back into my hip pocket. It was perfect. Soon those words would spread across the globe, bringing more willing subjects to my command by the second. All that was left to do was execute the plan.
It had been almost three years since I assumed control of the Legion of Strangers. Before me, The Strangers had been nothing more than a loose knit collective of internet ‘hactivists’ who lacked vision or purpose. Before me, they were nothing. Through my vision, they came to understand that it takes much more than simply hacking a few popular websites in order to incite real change.
The next few moments would be the culmination of four months of careful planning and calculation. Dressed in full military grade body armor, my six comrades and I kneeled within the darkness and peered at each other through night vision goggles. The chalk-white expressionless masks they wore upon their faces seemed to almost glow as they contrasted with the all black combat gear they all wore. I couldn’t help but wonder how badass the Greek Tragedy mask that I wore on my face looked with my own gear.
It was almost time for us to emerge from the dark storage closet in which we hid. Every hair on my body stood on edge as the thundering applause from the gym floor filled the room. The gathering of 600 plus prospective students and Fox Valley State University employees had no idea what I had in store for them.
In less than one minute we would make our entrance. In less than one hour they would lose count of the death toll. In less than one day we would have vanished without a trace. And in less than one week we would be unstoppable.
The six Strangers that accompanied me cradled their assault rifles as they patiently awaited my signal.
Inside the gym, the clueless occupants had no idea why the shutters to all the windows slowly started to retract. They must have thought the flickering lights were nothing more than a technical glitch. When the lights went out completely and the entire gym was engulfed in blackness, they literally could not have seen what came next.
The first pipe bomb that I hurled into the crowd hit a guy in the face and fell to the floor. I quietly laughed, as I watched the idiot kneel and pick up the crude device.
As he pulled the bomb closer to his face, I flipped up my night vision goggles so as not to miss the imminent beauty of the explosion in the darkness. I was not disappointed as a brilliant fireball erupted from within the blackness, lighting up the entire gym. Before the blast dissipated and plunged the gym back into darkness, I locked eyes with a confused female student standing less than five feet away from us. The fear in her eyes was ineffable. I thought she would scream, but she simply stood there frozen in terror.
I stood aside and motioned towards the exit behind us. She darted past me, no doubt thankful for what she thought was my compassion. The spray of automatic gunfire that I unleashed upon her back just as she reached the exit brought her to her knees. She quivered with fear as I approached her and withdrew the .50 caliber handgun holstered on my right hip. Pipe bombs deployed by my Strangers drowned out the sound of the final gunshot that put her down.
The hysterical crowd stormed away from the ensuing explosions and rushed toward the main exits. The realization that the main exits were chained and therefore, inaccessible, forced them to turn and rush toward the back exits where we stood waiting with our assault rifles thrust before us.
There were only seven of us, and six hundred of them, but we packed more than enough bullets to go around. We were gods among men as our bullets sank into their flesh and extinguished the lives that none of them rightfully deserved. Despite their overwhelming numbers and influence, they were powerless to stop us.
Their bodies fell to the floor at the same rate as our bullet casings.
It was beautiful.
I stopped shooting for a moment to revel in the magnificence of my greatest masterpiece.