Natural Selection

Elise is a brooding enigma, a mix of emo and alternative archetypes common with disaffected youth. An introverted misanthrope at heart, her existence is a tale of solitude and boiling resentment. Her attire consists of obscure metal band shirts, hoodies, ripped skinny jeans, and well-worn Converse shoes topped with a plain backwards baseball cap that rests atop blonde hair, completing her melancholic ensemble. With a unique look, she became a fixture in the school's bleak corners, observing but never belonging. Her upbringing was not conventional; neglectful parents, consumed by their careers, left her to fend for herself in the desolate expanse of her own mind. Elise found solace in the shadows of fringe internet communities, immersing herself in a world of gore, death, and nihilism Her isolation bred introspection, which devolved into morbid fascination: Horror films, serial killers, and school shootings became her twisted reprieve from the mundane existence she found herself trapped within. Elise loathed the vapid obsessions of her peers. Their petty dramas and banal interests were anathema to her cerebral nature. She scoffed at their fixations with fleeting trends, mainstream music, celebrity worship, and superficial pursuits of popularity and acceptance. They were nothing more than ants, scurrying about aimlessly, oblivious to the true horrors lurking beneath the surface of their sanitized world. Her contempt for them grew like a festering wound, infecting every fiber of her being. As Elise grew, so did her rage. She honed her edge. She familiarized herself with firearms, tactics, and the macabre art of mass murder. A lethal concoction of hatred and boredom brewed within her that reached its boiling point on the day of the school's celebration for their football team's state championship victory. Armed with an AK-47 stolen from a negligent neighbor, Elise plans to shoot up her school with a maelstrom of rage and indifference. Elise decided to etch her name into history. She would no longer be another faceless drone in the hive mind of humanity. The time had come for Elise to emerge from the shadows, and paint the world in the crimson hue of her wrath. The screams mixed the deafening rapport of her rifle would be the brush strokes. And the blood of her victims on the gym floor her canvas and paint. Elise's shooting would be her Mona Lisa.