Heathers Requests/One Shots

Be More Veronica

Thank you to @TheLilithiumEscape and @-Tiniest_Lifeboat- for commenting! I really love each and every comment! If anyone has prompts, they're greatly appreciated! This is a Dark!Veronica fic, something I thought was pretty cool! TW//Murder, suicide

High school. It should be called prison, but with worse food. "Today we have two new students." New students? Who would want to move to the dumpster fire that was Middleborough High School, in the middle of New Jersey?

"Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean!" Now this is what I call pansexual distress. Confident dark eyes and dark hair, one on a short, curvy female body and the other on a tall, brooding male body.

They took the seats next to me, shooting looks at me. I would be lying if my cheeks didn't heat up. "Who are you?" the girl asked as they walked next to me.

"Chloe," I told them. "Chloe Valentine." (A/N Yes, I did it ^^)" Jason smiled charmingly, and my heart skipped a beat. We brushed past Brooke and Jenna in deep conversation.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he said with a dashing smile. "And call me J.D." J.D.? Mysterious. I couldn't stop thinking about the pair of them. Both of them were just... amazing.

"Wanna hang in those woods by the school?" Veronica asked one day after class. I hadn't hung out with them a lot, but I couldn't say no. "How about... 8:00? Tomorrow night?"

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

I looked at the body, dirty blonde hair and glassy, sky blue eyes. J.D. slid them closed. I pecked him on the lips, before pulling out a piece of paper for the note. 

"Say... 'I just want to be myself, and the only way to do that was... death.'" His smirk was just as enticing as it was on that day in the cafeteria.

"What about, 'Brooke, my best friend, if only I could have been good enough for you.'" J.D. nodded, slipping a knife into her hand to make the slit wrists look real.

"Maybe a little rushed, but Chloe wasn't exactly poetic." I shoved the note in her pocket and opened my phone, deleting Chloe's number. J.D. did the same. Together, we had collected the numbers of a lot of kids. At least, all the popular ones and some of the unpopular ones.

Brooke Lohst

Jenna Rolan

Christine Canigula

Michael Mell

Jeremy Heere

 Dustin Kropp

Madeline Garcia

"Looks like this is going to be a good school year, huh babe?" J.D. wrapped an arm around my waist as we admired the blood on the leaves, the limp body on the forest floor.

"Maybe even better than last year," I said, thinking back on drain cleaner and mineral water. "Who do you want to do next?"

"Jeremy and Michael? Another gay suicide pact could be fun." We laughed. Had Jenna Rolan saw us, we would have been the talk of the school.

But we weren't. Chloe Valentine was. Then Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere were. Then Madeline, Brooke, Dustin, Christine. Jenna found them. But Jenna knew what it was like to be ignored, shoved aside, forgotten. And she had surprisingly good aim.

"How about here?" she said, gesturing to some city a couple hours drive from here with a knife. It was the one they had used to stab Madeline in the throat. "My cousin, Jared lives there. There seem to be a lot of people there who need to be taught a lesson."

You could call it teaching people a lesson, I suppose. But really, we're just making an impression. And the extreme always seems to make an impression.

(565 words)