I didn't have the switch blade in my back pocket, but that didn't matter now. It was dark, pitch black in the tunnels. A couple of screams laced the darkness, but no one was about to do what I would. Something inside me had snapped, the edge of insanity I had been birding on for weeks had finally dropped me over. I didn't have gloves, I didn't even have a weapon. But I didn't need one. My brain seemed to shut off, and I ran, twisting through the labyrinth of black tunnels until I ran into the first person. I could hear her breathing, and didn't even wait to try and figure out who it was. It was a girl, I could tell that by the sudden pleas of mercy as I rammed her into the wall. I took a hold on her shoulders, about the same height as the girl, and rammed her into the cold stone wall twice before the screaming stopped. A slight trickle of warm liquid spilled over my fingers, and a smile crept onto my face.

It was wonderful, having this power. Over life, and death. Such a fragile little thing, that I could simply take into my own hands and destroy. It felt nice to be in control of something.

The girl, who's familiar red hair told me she was Mary-Kate Tesler, slid down the wall, leaving was I presumed to be a bloody trail against the cold stone. Her lifeless body slumped against it on the floor, and I stepped over her, towards the screams of panic and thudding footsteps. I could smell the blood, and feel the warm liquid that was left on my fingers. And it felt so nice. So nice to take this into my own hands- literally.

The second girl I came across- once again, I could tell from the screams- was pretty little Sabrina Longcape. I took my time with this one, dragging my long, sharp nails down her face, digging into her soft skin. She screamed much more than Mary-Kate, mostly in agony, less of a plead for help this time. Blood began to run down her face in thin little lines, dripping down the bridge of her nose, following the sharp, neatly manicured fingers.

I couldn't stop my jagged breathing, forcing her up against the wall as I drew my bony hand down her face. I just needed to feel this power, this ability to take someone's life and remove of it. I needed to know I had control over this. Blood was rushing to my head, although, ironically, it was rushing out of Sabrina's head. Her screams were dying down, into more of a whimper down as I backed away from the blond, letting her slid down the dark, cold wall. All I could see were her eyes, her deep brown eyes staring up at me out of the dark corner of the tunnel. They dulled, and I took another step back, hearing a light drip of blood. The worried voices had grown closer, and a loud thud followed by a shrill voice told me they had found my first victim of the massacre.

"Ohmygosh-Leo, there's someone here! She-she's dead!" I couldn't let whoever there's students were catch up with me, so I left the second body of Sabrina Longcape sitting against the dark dead end of the tunnel, and ran on. Footsteps grew louder all around, and alarmed echoes grew in volume and quantity. My own rushing blood echoed through my ears, as my crystal clear blue eyes caught sight of themselves in a glass shard. I grabbed it, trying not to look at my hollowed out reflection. My heavy boots make loud thomps as I continue to run, feeling a mixture of blood and sweet beading on my face. I needed to kill.

The next one didn't have time to scream- I inserted the shard of glass immediately into her stomach, right below her rib cage, and drew it downwards. Blood spilled like a waterfall, all over my bare hands and onto my socks and neat skirt. I didn't care, I only watched the woman crumple to her knees. I would later find out I had killed Gabby Caperealla, the school secretary, but at the moment, nothing but the feeling of blood and killing was running through my head.

I continued to run, feeling the warm blood start to dry in my fingers and socks and my blouse.

I felt light headed, either because of the rush of blood or the fact that I hadn't eaten in days, too stressed to do so. Most likely it was a mixture of both.

Ignoring the dizziness, and my blurring vision, I spotted a boy, breathing heavily against one of the turns. I rammed into him full force, digging my sharp nails into his shoulder as I pressed him up against the wall. My other arm, with the shard of glass, pressed against his neck, just nicking him so a fine dribble of blood starts. I can feel his breathing against my own neck, quick shallow breaths. It was hard to make out, between the darkness and my dizzying vision, but I concluded that my fourth victim would be Bryn Hafer, the boy they thought was the killer. How ironic, he'd be killed by what people suspected him to be.

I pressed the blade harder, drawing more blood, but Bryn didn't seem to like that. He was fast, hooking his leg around my own exposed skin and sharply pulling me down, so that my knees slammed hard into the cold tunnel floor. Pain shot up throughout my whole body, and a warm liquid starts to pool around me, although it was not as pleasant as when it was from other people. I use the shard to slash Bryn's thigh, and he stumbled against the wall with a audible gasp, struggling to not fall. He doesn't move for a moment, and I take that time to get back to my own feet, turning the blade over him my raw, pink hand. I ran my free arm into his chest, forcefully holding him up against the wall, an lean closer, bringing the sharp of glass- which at this point, I have figured out was once an actor's mirror- to his neck. The sharp edge touched his jawline, and I press the cool flat back of it against his throat. I want to take my time with this one.

My eyes flicker over to the shard, which is in just the right position to show me my horrific face. And I freeze, unable to look at anything other than my shallow reflection. My once straight, pretty dirty blond hair is wet with blood and sweat, sticking to my neck.

My light skin was even paler, making me look like a ghost. My face seemed hollow, the skin thin and ghastly. My lips were cracked, with droplets of blood beading on them. My eyes are sunk into their sockets. I look insane.

The only thing that remains of my old self is my eyes, although they are full of insanity as well. My crystal clear blue eyes are teetering on the edge of complete insanity.

In my silence, staring at the thin, hollow shadow of my former self, Bryn forces my arm of his chest, and Rams me into the opposing tunnel wall. Warm blood drips down my neck, and the shard of glass falls from my hand, lightly slicing the top layer of the skin on my exposed leg, next to my bloodied knees. As it hits the ground, I catch sight of my thin body, no longer pretty supermodel thin. Now I was thin like a skeleton.

I look up, stating Bryn in the eye. He doesn't move either, looking confused and horrified at my shallow, contorted face. Finally, he speaks.

"Hamilton?"

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Sadly, "Macbeth" must leave the contest snd this is her last murder scene and also exposure.