June 06, 2022


It had been a year since Gunther's mother had died, and half a year
since his father gave up and died as well.  Gunther's mother had been
a heavy smoker, and when she had died, Gunther had been too angry at
his father to support him in their mutual grief.  Gunther had been so
angry, then full of regret when his father had died too.  His father,
an ex-marine, had quit smoking years ago, but his mother never did.
Gunther had been so angry.  All his father ever really said to his
mother was that smoking made her gross, but he had always stayed
faithful to her.

Gunther had sunk into sadness, anger, and negativity.  He pretty much
wanted to die, too, but he didn't want it to be pointless.  Seeing the
news that a controversial mass shooter club had been formed in his
city had been like a Godsend through his pulsing red rage.  They would
all be gathered in one place, he could mass murder them all at once,
and probably die himself in the act as a hero.

He quietly went to a few meetups, gathering information and making his
plan.  Over a couple of months he gathered everything he needed, and
finally went in to mow them all down.  It went too perfectly, he
survived it in the room full of corpses.  He looked up at the
whiteboard with a bit of blood spattered on it, and sagged a little
bit, then began crying in unbearable remorse at what was written on
there.  They had been outlining a plan of attack to mass murder big
tobacco executives.