Marc Lépine's Gendercide: The Montreal Massacre
Two women tried to get out a door near the platform and were shot for their efforts. The gunman then aimed at other students attempting escape through a second door and fired, hitting them. As people hid beneath desks, the madman strode up and down the rows as if looking for something. He shot until his clip was empty, reloaded, and shot again. People who had been hit and were still alive groaned in pain. Others gasped in terror.
The man hopped onto a desk and went from one desk to another, shooting as he went, looking specifically for females who were hiding. He hit four students.
Maryse Leclair was down, but still alive. She pleaded for assistance, which attracted the gunman back to her. Those who survived this bloodbath recalled for the newspapers what he did next. The strange young man sat down next to the wounded woman, quietly pulled a knife from the sheath strapped to his body, and used it to stab her in the heart. She screamed in surprise and pain. This violent act shocked those who were watching. The man had no mercy, but there was nothing anyone could do. He pulled the knife out and then plunged it in twice more until the girl lay silent, blood gushing from her wounds.
No one dared to move. No one wanted to draw his attention. "We were trapped like rats," one student later told the papers. "He was shooting all over the place."
Clearly this crazy man was bent on absolute destruction. For all they knew, he might kill them all. Canadians knew little about such incidents, but it was clear that this angry man had an agenda. Every movement was full of purpose. He rose to his feet and walked over to the professor's desk. They waited to see what he would do next. Without a word, he laid his knife down, along with his remaining ammunition. He removed his cap and placed it on the table. The room was deathly still. People hardly dared to breathe. This man was up to something but his actions masked his intent. Still, he seemed emotionally spent, as if he had done what he came to do.
Even as the police prepared to enter the building downstairs, he removed his parka and wrapped it around the rifle's barrel. Someone in the building pulled the fire alarm, which jarred everyone.
The gunman said, "Ah, shit." He turned the rifle's barrel toward his own face, pressed the muzzle against his forehead, and pulled the trigger. The rifle exploded, blowing off part of his skull and he fell to the floor. No one moved. The place smelled of hot metal, gunpowder, and fresh blood. But clearly it was over.
The professor moved out of his hiding place and in a shaky voice told the class it was safe to leave. He suggested they not look at the man. Many fled, but a few remained to see if those who had been shot could be helped. Four were dead, including Maryse Leclair and the other two women. Another young man was wounded in the hand.
In the corridor, those who filed out encountered others who needed assistance. Many would have trouble forgetting what they had seen.