The room was filled with cries from the innocent mouths of the children, the screams and tears echoed through the village until the floor ran red and silence was heard. A small child came out from hiding, he took the weapon from the dead murders hands that has massacred his little playmates, he keep the weapon hidden until he reached the age of thirty where he then took the weapon out of hiding and did the same as what had happened to his school mates. Their cries were once again echoed through the village, only this time after the floor ran red once again and the cries had stopped one continued.
It was the cry of the memory the killer had of his when he saw his friends bleed to death, this was the scene he saw before him only this time they weren’t his friends but some where his children. He did the same thing the killer before him had done, place the gun to his head and did what he thought was the answer. Once again a child found and keep the weapon till his thirtieth birthday. He once again followed the now begging of a tradition only this time this killer was more perverse than the two before him, he shot the children in the legs and arms and watched them as they bleed slowly to death upon the cold hard floor that was now being stained red again like the times before it. As tradition would keep once again a child would find and keep the weapon. Once more as tradition would have it he kept the weapon a secret and brought it out on his 30th birthday, once again traditionally the children at the same school had to die, only this time more perverse than before, he shot them a few at a time so their friends had to watch them die slowly and painfully. For five year children this was a mental pain they could not handle, but it didn’t matter as they would soon follow their friends and the children twenty five years before them did, the path that lead them to a better life.
The same as before always traditionally the killings went on every 25 years, the cause was a child that had managed to escape when his class mates had been killed those many years ago. However their was a difference each time, the killings became more perverse each time. More slowly, more painfully, until the killer had to reach a new level of perverse so he raped the teachers in front if the children and watched their faces as horror came upon them, the next killer not only raped the teacher but the children as well. Every 25 years as tradition would have it the killings continued becoming more perverse and sick as each time passed by. Hundreds of years passed, the killings still happening each 25 years with the same weapon, in the same school. This was until 1000 years after the first killing, the killer of that year walked into the school placed the barrel in front of the scared children and pulled the trigger however rust had set upon the gun and it now ceased to work. The killer in a passion of anger and rage through the gun and himself off a near by bridge into the river below. Stopping there and then the horrible tradition that had lived for many years.
There were many mysteries about the killings when the outside world found out the secret that the small village had kept for so many years but the two mysteries that got the most people was why did parents continue to send their children to the school and why did the police not get involved. Who knows, Who cares. Its not your life, its not your world.