Heathers oneshots

Unused whump stuff

just a lil warning, this is literally just like two thousand words of pure whump and torture, there's no plot. it's obviously gonna be graphic. Also none of these are at all linked together, and some are literally just scrapped bits from the dukesaw fic I didn't have time to work into the story and didn't want to not publish because hey I worked hard on them.

This is not a Jdronica shipper safe zone.

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Veronicas POV

How I ended up here, I sure would like to know. If you told me 4 years ago this is what my senior year would look like, I would've told you to fuck off.

But here I am.

The gun I hold in my hand is clammy as I sweat, my feet shaky as I stare at the girl in front of me. Another set of hands are clamped over mine, tightly, holding me in place. Not sure this is the right way to hold a gun, but hey, what do I know.

My finger is forcefully slipped over the trigger, his over top of it. But he doesn't shoot it.

I thrash my arms roughly, only to be held back. I'm not exactly the strongest, well with being very small, and thinly built.

"You're not getting out of this so easily." JD hisses in my ear.

"I'm not shooting her." I say, my voice breaking, "I won't do it."

"I'm not gonna pull the trigger for you, you've gotta do that yourself. I'll wait here all night with you if I have to."

"You sick fucking bastard," Duke starts to cry as she yells at him from her spot on the floor.

Her face is a mess, her hair is disheveled, and tears start staining her shirt. She looks as if she's been reduced to nothing. Her hands are behind her back, held with duct tape, but not tied to anything. She knows she wouldn't be able to get far.

"I'm not doing it," I whisper, starting to cry myself, "I won't do it."

"Yes. you will." He growls and grips my hand tighter and twists my wrist ever so slightly.

I look her over. Shoot her right in the head, then she dies quick. Shoot her in the side or something, she might make it, if I can get her to a hospital. But I doubt I could do that. And if that fails, she bleeds out slowly on the floor. I'm running out of options here.

I wince and bite my lip as pain shoots through my wrist. He twists it more. It's all I can focus my attention on. Trying to keep my hand steady is difficult. I can hardly bear to stand up anymore.

He holds me still as I continue to thrash about and struggle against him. The more I do, the tighter he holds on. I openly cry, and slow down struggling. It takes a lot out of me.

He twists the gun so I'm pointing it at myself, just around my sternum. I tilt my head, and look up, panicking.

"If you can't handle it of course, I can always shoot you both. Would you prefer that?"

"No." She cuts in, "no, Veronica just do it. It's okay, just get it over with."

"Yeah Veronica," he mocks her, "just get it over with."

I normally don't consider myself to be a very impulsive person, but I'd consider this a good exception.

While his guard is down, standing on my toes, and leaning my head back, I shoot it somewhere through my chest, near my neck.