Chapter Text
*Boom!* *Crackle~* *Fwoosh!*
At the Volcaldera national cemetery, dark clouds gathered, raining down thousands of tiny little raindrops at the resting place of the dead.
Somewhere, in the middle of the cemetery, were the gravestones of newcomers. One borne from an awful event that left many families distraught and scarred.
This event, now known as the 'Volcano High Shooting', would be remembered as one of the most gruesome school shootings in the history of America; forever tarnishing the reputation of the school, and the family of the shooter, the Aarons.
Ripley Aaron had immediately resigned as police chief soon after the shooting, offering no comment except 'I am sorry.'; his public presence had considerably decreased after.
It is suspected that he and his wife, Samantha Aaron, are currently hiding within their house and refraining from public view.
But this was not the only resignment given after the shooting.
Spears, principal of Volcano High, also gave his resignment last Friday.
He commented about how deeply apologetic he was to the families of the victims, and how ashamed he was that he was not there to prevent it.
Forever held under the contempt of the public, it's unlikely that these two figures will ever regain trust, especially not to the families of the victims they had failed.
Meanwhile, there was a hero that was celebrated for trying to stop the shooting.
The lone human student of the school: Anon Y. Mous.
Believed to have pushed the shooter down from the roof and ending this terrible nightmare that even the police couldn't manage, he was regarded as an example.
An example of bravery, courage, will, and good, the media was all over this young human, hounding him day and night even while he was accepted into medical care.
It took a few months for everything to die down and for everyone to move on.
Still, public curiosity remained: What will this young hero do now?
Everyone wondered.
They all thought of their own theories and possibilities of what this hero will do moving forward.
*Step* *Step* *Step*
But what none of them thought, however, was him returning to the grave of the killer he had so fiercely delivered to their doom.
.
.
.
*Squelch!* *Squish!* *Squelch!* “Hero.”
The word slipped past my lips, reminding me of the events that transpired after the shooting.
I pulled my dark hood down further, shivering as the freezing rain of the night soaked through my jacket.
Even here, miles away from the Volcaldera city center, surrounded by nothing but the dead and the pouring storm, I kept my head down.
What started off as a habit had become a reflex now.
A pathetic survival instinct.
If I had to step outside my apartment, I hid.
Sunglasses, face mask, hood up, head down.
I remembered the media circus after the hospital; non-stop flashing lights, shameless vultures with their microphones shoved in my face, demanding an interview or statement from the “Lone Survivor” who bravely stopped the tragedy.
If only they knew what a massive pile of bullshit that was.
I wasn't a hero.
I was a coward.
I was just an pathetic, miserable loser who thought he was too cool and too cynical to care about anyone.
Tried to hide behind layers of irony and detachment, thinking it’d protect me from anything…how wrong I was.
That toxic mentality didn’t help me, nor did it protect me, and instead of helping me pass through high school unscathed, it just pushed a broken person over the edge to do something horrible.
Because of me.
The shooting happened because of me.
I handed them the means and reason to burn it all down because I was too dense and too selfish to see what they were going through.
…And now, here they are.
My boots sank into the muddy soil as I got to my destination.
.
- Naser Aaron -
2003 – 2020
Beloved son and brother.
.
.
.
- Naomi Chen-
2002 - 2020
Too dear to be forgotten.
.
Naser’s grave was immaculate, adorned with fresh flowers that were being swept away in the downpour.
The golden boy, forever immortalized.
And Naomi was here, too, with her own set of flowers and much more.
She was placed right beside him.
Sometimes I wondered if this is what she had in mind; a funeral for the two of them, together in life and death.
Though, I doubted she planned for it to end as suddenly and as shortly as this.
Had the shooting not happened, would they have stayed together?
Would they be wedded, had kids of their own, lived a good life, despite all the difficulties they had?
…What a useless thought.
They’re dead.
It doesn’t matter now.
And over there…was theirs.
.
- Lucy Aaron -
20XX – 20XX
Heaven restored you in light.
.
Lucy.
Not Fang…not anymore.
Unlike the others, their tombstone was desecrated and vandalized.
‘MONSTER’
‘BITCH’
‘BURN IN HELL’
There were quotes like that all over the marble.
Some were spray painted, drawn, painted, and someone had even taken a chisel and carved it deep to make sure no amount of cleaning could wipe all of it away.
They really made sure that even in death, this killer wouldn’t find peace.
“They really hate you…”
“…Can’t blame them, I guess.”
It’s just that their hate is directed at the wrong person.
Falling to my knees, I let the rain, soil, mud stain my jeans.
On that day…
…The old Anon died on that roof with them.
What was left was just a hollow, guilt-ridden husk going through the motions, haunted by the echoing screams and gunshots.
“They think I’m the good guy, Fan—Lucy.”
“They’re thinking I’m the one that stopped you…that ended the tragedy.”
…
“We both know that’s a lie.”
…
“If there was any right in the world, my name would be right beside you. Mocked and shamed just like you.”
“…But if there was right in the world, then maybe what happened would have never…come to pass.”
…
“It’s my fault.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
…
“I should’ve been there for you.”
“I should’ve listened.”
…
…
…
There was no response.
It was just the rain, howling and thundering.
…
I didn't even want to come here today.
I had felt a pull—some strange, inexplicable, maddening sensation dragging me from my dimly lit bedroom out into this miserable storm; all just to see them again.
But standing here, staring at the proof of my greatest failure, I realized I couldn't do this anymore.
It was destroying whatever fragments of a soul I had left.
“I…think this’ll be the last time I come here.”
“Lucy.”
…
“I have to move on.”
“I have to try.”
“…Goodbye.”
…
…
…
Giving her tomb one final regard, I got up and turned my back.
I took one step away.
Then another.
And another.
I closed my eyes, hoping that this time, I could finally leave them behind.
*CRACKLE!* *BOOM!*
Suddenly, a clap of thunder shook the ground beneath my feet.
The rain got heavier, effectively blinding my sight in the dark night.
The wind shrieked and became stronger.
I could barely see, hear, or even stand.
I threw my arms up to shield my face, gasping as the freezing downpour battered on me.
“What the—?!”
Before I could even begin to process the sudden change, a brilliant purple lighting struck the graveyards behind me.
First, it came for Naser’s.
The entire stone was obliterated, with the flowers and candles and everything being thrown away.
Then came Naomi’s.
And finally…Lucy’s.
Nothing was left of them.
Then a strange, high-pitched ringing pierced my ears, making me deaf to even the dreadful rainstorm.
I didn’t know what was going on—I couldn’t stop to think—it was—
The lighting struck directly in front of me.
The violent violet glow swallowed the gravestones, the storm, and everything else in my periphery.
I reached out blindly, trying to grab onto anything to steady myself—
- And then, there was only darkness. -