AN: Okay, so the story thus far - Gary's just gotten expelled and is presently waiting out his time in Happy Volts. Petey and Jimmy are back at Bullworth and everything's returning to normal; or so Jimmy thought. Petey is depressed, borderline suicidal, and it's all because of Gary's absence. Meanwhile, Gary hatches an evil scheme (wow, what a surprise!) to break back into Bullworth and start the riots all over again.

Whew!

By the way, I just thought I should clear that up because in every chapter now there are going to be two points of view - the chapter will be split in half seperated by asterisks.

;p Happy reading! R+R people! Anyone who does will receive a free cookie! ;p

Gary wakes with a start.

His eyes snap open, instantly alert and awake. He knows that today is the day he will get out of this godforsaken pit that they call a mental institution and go and find him.

He gets up and springs, catlike, over to the shattered toilet bowl. He picks up a piece, weighing it in his hands. It's about the size of a soccer ball, with sharp, jagged edges and a lethal point. It shattered well, he thinks.

He takes position behind the jamb of the locked door, weapon positioned optimally in order to catch the wardkeeper by surprise. He's done this before. It comes easily to him, the swing of the ceramic piece, the sickening clang of ceramic against bone, the shatter on impact of both surfaces. He lets the pieces fall from his hands and onto the floor, blood streaming down his hands as he lets go of the dead weight of the orderly. A woman.

He probably didn't need to use that much force; she's slight and the blow completely fractured the back half of her skull. He can see fragments of what would seem to be her brain and knows he doesn't have to worry about her regaining consciousness.

Ever.

He watches as her blood gushes from the back of her head, perplexed by the stark contrast between the dark crimson and the grimy white tile.

An orderly's voice echoes from behind the door, a male voice. He must have heard.

Shit.

Gary hurriedly grabs another ceramic piece from the toilet bowl, bigger this time and with more serrated edges. He uses the door as a kickboard to gain explosive speed as he brings the weapon smoothly in an arc around to connect solidly with the side of the male orderly's face. Another bone-on-china clang.

He's no longer a concern for Gary.

Nothing is.

It's the sweetness of the hunt that makes it attractive to me, he thinks as he fights his way through the institution. The feeling you get when the prize's lifeblood is dripping onto your hands and you can hear their strangled cries for help. When you can feel the last surges of electricity flickering and dying in their nerves and synapses. When you know that you're the last person to see them alive.

He loves the hunt. He depends on it. The snap of a vertabrae, the crack of a skull, the gurgling cough when someone's drowning in their own blood, he loves it all. He sucks in every sensation, savouring the feel of warm scarlet on his hands and the sounds of chaos and death.

People say Gary's crazy.

But he just likes hurting people in whatever way he can.

* * *

"Wait, you're saying we've got to get the homicidal psychopath who tried to kill us out of Happy Volts?" splutters Jimmy, arms clenched into fists at his sides and legs spread into a fighting stance.

"Yes, Jimmy." says Petey quietly, staring at his thighs with his hands folded in his lap.

"You know I'd do anything to make you happy, Pete, but this..."

"Jimmy. We've got to get him out of there."