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The Heathers continued to laugh.
Veronica just weathered it. Mocking laughter wasn’t anything new in her high school experience, and, well, she’d already decided that her dignity wasn’t part of the equation when she’d first approached them.
“It’s not that simple,” Heather Duke said, derision dripping off every word.
“Shut up, Heather!”
“Sorry, Heather.”
Heather Chandler stepped towards Veronica. She resisted the urge to step back as Heather circled her and – there was no other word for it – appraised her, sharp and intense gaze focused on a lump of rock to see if it had something valuable she could grind out of it.
“How badly do you want this, little miss nobody?” Heather said, finally. She continued before Veronica could answer. “A bit of forgery isn’t going to cut it in my world. But a girl who wants anything badly enough, that, I can use.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you want to prove to me that that’s you, meet us after school, and maybe we can make something of you yet.”
Well. Veronica had already come this far. So what if it sounded like the queen was going to chop off her head and leave her in a ditch?
.
.
“Creepy abandoned building. Classic.”
Veronica was fully expecting some kind of prank, of course. But they could’ve been a bit less obvious about it.
She kept going. As she’d said, her dignity had left the room hours ago, and if she had to endure the Heathers’ hazing for a night then it was still worth it if meant a reprieve from everyone else. One night of torment for a year of peace, and then she would be free of high school forever.
At worst, nothing would happen. Veronica would walk around a creepy building jumping at shadows while the Heathers were off somewhere else doing popular girl shit and laughing about the pathetic nerd they’d tricked into thinking she had a chance. And nothing would change.
Admittedly, the other possibilities weren’t any more appealing, but at least things would (hopefully) be different at school. Any moment now, one of the Heathers or their minions boyfriends would jump out at her, maybe dump something disgusting on her, and spend the rest of the night humiliating her. Veronica shuddered as another horrible possibility occurred to her – would the Heathers go so far as to...offer her up? That wouldn’t be worth…
Wait.
What had just happened?
They slipped me some acid , Veronica thought, even though she couldn’t fathom how . But the world around her had undeniably changed, shifting and twisting on itself and making a hair-raising noise . It almost resembled a library, if a library had ridiculously tall wrought-iron fences criss-crossing the middle of the room surrounded by mismatched and misshapen bookshelves, with books with colors that weren’t quite right as they faded and renewed themselves. It certainly didn’t resemble the abandoned building she had been lured to, at any rate.
Should she even keep moving when she’d apparently taken a temporary leave of reality?
Something moved, crawling out from in between the books and underneath the twisting gates. Not an insect, but still too many legs for comfort. Followed quickly by another. And then another.
Then as their number grew, they started skittering towards her.
Fuck no. Acid trip hallucination or not, Veronica was getting the fuck away from those things. She bolted, but there was no clear path with fences in her way, and there were more of those fucking leg things every place she turned.
Maybe she could climb the fence? (But where to go after that?)
Not much time to think about it. Veronica threw herself against the fence, scrambling for a foothold as she grasped the iron bars and pulled herself up with surprising strength. If only she had this kind of adrenaline in gym class, huh?
She grasped the top, finally, and panting heavily, hauled herself up into a crouched perch between ornate and vaguely threatening spikes. Only then did she dare to glance down.
Her shoulders sagged even as she kept her grip on the nearest spike. It had worked – the...creatures? weren’t able to climb up after her, their spindly legs slipping uselessly against the iron and tumbling through the gaps as they reached up towards her.
But crowds of them stretched out on either side of the fence, no exit in sight.
Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.
The bookcases started to tip. Books began slipping out of their shelves, crashing against the ground as they opened to wordless pages. Veronica braced herself against the onslaught, but they thankfully spared her as they rained down, the creatures fleeing to avoid being crushed. Maybe if she was quick, she could…
The books were melting. Merging into each other into a great mass that began to rise up towards her as it shaped itself into another, much bigger creature, towering above the bookshelves, the fences, and Veronica.
Okay, hyperventilating time.
This is a bad trip. This is just a bad trip.
Fuck if she didn’t feel sober as hell though. Fuck if she didn’t think she was going to die here.
A sound, like a supersonic jet flying overhead, came from behind her, as the thing in front of her reared back, struck by...a red croquet ball?
Veronica dared a look behind her, and choked.
The Heathers, dressed so ridiculously elegant it made their everyday high-fashion look like a Kmart bargain rack, stood there as unaffected and untouchable as if it were another day at school. None of them even spared Veronica a glance as they leapt over the fences and encircled the melted-book creature.
And then the Heathers raised their croquet mallets and – there were no other words for it – beat the everloving shit out of it.
And this strange place still seemed bound by at least one rule of the real world – nothing and no one could stand against the Heathers. As it succumbed to their blows, the world shifted again, and Veronica found herself crouched no longer on a narrow iron fence, but the cold floor of the abandoned building she had been in what seemed like an eternity ago.
Only then did Heather Chandler’s attention turn to her.
“So, you survived.”
“What the fuck was that‽” Veronica demanded, slowly getting to her feet. Drugs? It couldn’t be. The world was back to normal, all the other strange things vanished in an instant, yet here the Heathers stood, still in those outfits.
“You wanted a taste of our world, Veronica. Well, you got it,” Heather said, not a single hair out of place despite...all of that. The other two closed rank behind her, fixing Veronica with their own evaluating gazes. They couldn’t compare to Heather Chandler’s, of course, but they made an effective backup to put Veronica under the microscope, as she awaited her fate.
Something jumped up on Heather Chandler’s shoulder, and stared at Veronica with unblinking red eyes. The Heathers barely glanced at it.
“Hello, Veronica,” it said, words echoing only in her head. Veronica valiantly managed to keep herself from screaming. “Make a contract with me, and become a magical girl!”
.
.
Veronica made the contract. Of course she did. She’d said she’d give anything to escape the crushing life of a high-school outcast, and while supernatural bargains hadn’t exactly been in serious consideration, she was hardly going to turn one down when they turned out to be real. Once the Heathers’ whole arrangement with Kyubey had been explained to her, Veronica jumped at the chance to sign up and accepted the contract without a second thought.
It hurt like a bitch in the moment, but it was so worth it. Veronica’s life completely turned around in an instant. No one pushed her around at school anymore; they even smiled at her in the hallways and were glad to work with her on team assignments. As a bonus, Veronica got a crash course in fashion and makeup and all that from the Heathers – Veronica’s wish might have meant that their classmates wouldn’t have cared what she looked like anymore, but the Heathers certainly did. Veronica couldn’t say she minded much; it felt good to look good. And she got to not only sit at their lunch table, but generally pal around with them and reap all the benefits of that, soaking up the admiration and adoration of their peers.
And after school, she went witch-hunting with the Heathers.
In truth, for Veronica, that was just another benefit. Alright, the Heathers weren’t pleasant company; they weren’t really Veronica’s friends as much as she was their lackey junior partner. But there was a thrill to it; Veronica felt powerful, beating down witches, in a way that even now she didn’t truly have in her everyday life. There were still cutthroat hierarchies even if Veronica had moved up in them, still unwritten rules she had to follow lest she step out of line, still drudgery and homework and teachers just waiting to retire. But in her other life, things were different. Heather Chandler was still their leader, of course, but when they faced a witch, for a moment those distinctions faded to the background, overtaken by the primal heat of battle and their united goal to take down their enemy.
Veronica had never thought of herself as a violent person before; she’d always tried to avoid getting too close to the schoolyard fights, let alone get into them. But now that she’d tasted it, she found in herself a secret craving for it that had always been there, unrealized, for the freedom it brought, the way it just cast off all the bullshit of life and society. That allure of violence thrilled her, and in quiet moments when she could be honest with herself, it scared her a little too, but she was usually pretty good at ignoring that. And against witches, she could freely indulge that part of herself without remorse. She could even feel good about it, knowing that she was actually improving things around here, getting rid of creatures that spread nothing but misery and despair.
She didn’t know for certain if witches were to blame for how awful everyone was to each other at Westerberg – the cynical part of her said that they really didn’t need any help with that, but another part of her said that it made a lot of sense, and clung to the hope that if they took care of all of the witches, people would be kind again.
I should forge us some absence notes so we can get more hunting done during the day , Veronica thought as she put her things away in her locker at the end of another day. Ugh, but too many absences looks terrible to colleges…
It’s funny. Her school life had gotten so much better and yet she looked forward to that last bell more than ever.
“Veronica?”
“Oh, hey Martha!” Veronica shut the locker, wincing as the hinges complained, and turned to face her best friend. They hadn’t been hanging out much lately, for obvious reasons, and she felt a twinge of guilt about that. “What’s going on?”
“Are you busy tonight? It’s been a while since we had a movie night,” Martha said.
The twinge grew a bit stronger.
“Sorry,” Veronica said, trying to be delicate about it. “I’ve got some other commitments this afternoon.”
“Oh. With the Heathers again?” Martha asked. She smiled, but it looked forced. “Have fun!”
“Ah, you know how it is,” Veronica said awkwardly, “when Heather says ‘we’re doing this’ then, can’t really say no!” She tried to ignore the little voice saying Liar, liar, you look forward to it. “Maybe some other time? Hopefully soon?”
“Yeah, hopefully soon!” Martha echoed, seemingly cheered up. They said their goodbyes and Veronica buried the guilt in her heart as she went off to meet the Heathers.
She’d make it up to Martha later.
“You’re late, Veronica,” Heather Chandler said.
“Sorry, Heather,” Veronica said. “Got held up a bit at my locker.”
Heather Duke rolled her eyes. Veronica ignored her.
“We’ll hit the north side of town today,” Heather Chandler said.
“You’re not going after ‘the big one’ today?” Kyubey asked from its usual perch on Heather’s shoulder.
“No. After Veronica’s little mishap yesterday, I don’t think we’re there yet.”
Veronica winced. She had messed up in that fight, and Heather had had to save her ass. Unsurprising that she was going to hold that over Veronica’s head for a little while.
‘The big one’ in question was Heather’s words (Kyubey had seen bigger, apparently) for a particularly powerful witch that the three of them had attempted to take on on multiple previous occasions, but had been forced to retreat each time. The whole reason Heather had been willing to recruit Veronica, she’d been told, was that a fourth girl would make that battle winnable. But first, Veronica had to get some experience in, or she’d be worse than useless to them.
Fair enough.
They had a good hunt that night, finding and defeating several witches easily. Heather called it a night early and divided up the spoils among them, tossing each of them a grief seed.
“Not the worst you’ve done, Veronica,” she said. “But you need to be faster.”
“That was a good hit on the second witch,” Heather McNamara said. “Crumpled just like a boy kicked in the balls.”
“Not worth her getting an equal share of the grief seeds, if you ask me,” Heather Duke said.
“Shut up, Heather,” Heather Chandler said, the warning clear in her voice – she was the queen, she was the one who divvied up their fortune among her subjects.
“Sorry, Heather.”
It almost felt like camaraderie, on the good nights like this. The bad nights were harsher, when their hunts went later and there weren’t enough grief seeds for everyone, they’d be at each others’ throats and even Heather Chandler’s iron grip only barely kept them all in line. If her power over them had been any less, Veronica thought that it might’ve come to blows on more than a few occasions. There were times when they only got two grief seeds, and Heather Chandler had to choose which of the rest of them would get it. Veronica, of course, was the lowest on the pole, so she was never the recipient, but it alternated between the other two Heathers, and Heather Duke in particular hated being passed over in favor of McNamara. If ever Veronica did become the recipient...well...she didn’t think Heather Duke would take that, even from Heather Chandler.
.
.
There was a clear separation in Veronica’s days with the Heathers. At school, she was their elevated servant – fetch this, forge that, play the popular girl and help us bully our inferiors. She’d swallow her misgivings and stamp down the parts of herself that didn’t fit the mold. On hunts, she was as near their equal as she could ever be – fight, kill, smack down the forces of evil with croquet balls and mallets. There were no doubts, no misgivings, no mold to bend herself to.
But then those worlds started to blend.
“We’ll go in, make ourselves seen, pretend to have a few drinks, party a bit,” Heather Chandler said. “Then we’ll slip out once it’s fashionable to disappear and everyone’s too drunk or stoned to notice much anyway.”
“Pretend?” Veronica asked.
“You want to try fighting a witch while you’re not sober? Sucks balls that we can’t get properly fucked up like any other high schooler, but no one said this magical girl bullshit was all sunshine and roses. No drinks, no weed; you’re coming out of that party cleaner than a Mormon wedding or else you’re benched for the night, and I’ll make sure you regret it afterwards.”
“Sacrifices must be made,” Heather McNamara agreed solemnly.
“Got it,” Veronica said, though privately she wondered what the point of even going to the party in the first place was if they were barely going to be there and not even partake in the main attractions. Couldn’t they take off a night of hunting if it was so important to keep up the popular girl appearances?
Heather was in a mood, though, so Veronica didn’t voice any of that. She’d just try to enjoy herself at the party, what little of it she got to have.
And she did, basking in the compliments from the guys and even dancing with a few. She couldn’t help but wish she was dancing with the mysterious new kid, though. But guys like him didn’t get invited to parties like this, and didn’t dance with girls like her. They’d flirted a bit, though. There was a violence in him, too, that promise of freedom – from constraints, from what others thought of you – that Veronica was drawn to. But she already had an outlet for all that shit, and it wasn’t like she had time for a boyfriend with this magical girl gig, either.
So flirting was all it could be.
Their short stint at the party flew by too quickly, and for once Veronica was a little disappointed to be getting out on the streets. The disappointment didn’t last once they found a witch to take down, the joy of the fight taking over, and another witch destroyed.
They continued to roam the streets in search of more, Heather Chandler’s soul gem pulsing as she led them across town. Until Veronica saw…
“Martha?”
That wasn’t like Martha, to be wandering alone at night? What was she doing? Veronica dashed over to her, ignoring the Heathers’ shouts. Martha was moving oddly, Veronica thought. Something was wrong.
“Martha, hey.” Veronica stepped in front of her. Martha didn’t even look at her, and tried to just walk around her until Veronica grabbed her arm. There was an empty expression on Martha’s face, and on her neck…
“A Witch’s Kiss,” Heather Chandler said. “There must be one nearby, come on, ditch Martha Dumptruck and let’s go.”
Veronica looked back at Heather’s impatient and uncaring expression. “I can’t just leave her, she’s under a witch’s influence!”
Heather narrowed her eyes.
“Are you part of this team or not, Veronica? We’re here to fight witches, not play nanny to their dregs.”
Veronica tightened her grip on Martha’s arm. “She’ll die if I let her go.”
“It happens, weak people succumb to the witches all the time. It’s not like Martha Dumptruck is much of a loss.”
“Fuck you, Heather.”
“Really, Veronica? After everything I’ve done for you, you’re going to throw it all away for her? You’re only here because of me, because I asked Kyubey to give you a chance. I made you,” Heather said, practically spitting with fury.
“What is the point of what we’re doing if we just let innocent people die for it?” Veronica cried. “No. I’m doing this my way, you do it your way, but I’m not going anywhere until Martha is safe. If that means I’m out, then consider this my resignation.”
“...Fine,” Heather said, and Veronica shivered at the promise of retribution in that single word, but never loosened her grip on Martha in the slightest. “We’re done, then. If it weren’t for your wish rendering the effort moot, I would ruin you for this. But don’t think you’re off the hook. If you ever come near our hunts again, I will destroy you. You’re on your own against the witches from now on.”
Veronica hesitated. “But, the big one, you need me –“
Heather grabbed Veronica by the front neck of her dress, and Veronica desperately clung to Martha, refusing, still, to let her go.
“I don’t need you.” Heather hissed. “You need me. You’ll see that soon enough. You’re nothing without me. And when you come crawling back, don’t expect any mercy.” She dropped Veronica roughly, and turned to the others, watching silently. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go.”
Veronica didn’t watch them go. She curled around Martha, hugging her as tightly as she could.
Martha spoke, but the voice was empty and not truly hers. Veronica hardly listened, didn’t want to listen to the words of endings and heaven and the hard, cold earth.
“I’m sorry, Martha,” Veronica said, tears slipping free now that the Heathers were gone. “I’m sorry I left you alone.”
Agonizingly long moments passed as Veronica held Martha, pinning her in place against the terrible curse that controlled her and forced her to struggle against Veronica. Until finally, finally that awful mark faded from her neck.
The Heathers could be thanked for one thing, at least.
“Ver...onica?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“I...I think I was having a nightmare,” Martha said, looking around blearily.
“Yeah,” Veronica said, her voice rough and hoarse. “Let’s get you home, now.”
.
.
Veronica didn’t regret saving Martha, of course, but the dread of Heather’s wrath hung over her all weekend. It seemed to choke her from the inside, filling her nightmares, and just generally putting her in a foul mood. How dare Heather just carelessly dismiss Martha’s life like that? Someone needed to knock Heather off her throne, and how unfair was it that no one could?
Ah...her soul gem was getting awfully dark, wasn’t it? Veronica tapped a grief seed to the side of it, and as the black faded from it and returned to blue, she immediately felt more at ease. She flopped back on her bed, and sighed to nothing in particular.
That was another thing she was going to have to worry about. She still had a few grief seeds on hand, but she was going to have to hunt witches on her own now, and make sure to stay away from wherever the Heathers were.
The easiest thing, Veronica decided, was to go hunting at a different time. The Heathers had claimed the afternoons and evenings for themselves. Veronica would just have to take the pre-dawn and early morning hours. Ugh. But the Heathers wouldn’t be caught awake at those hours under any circumstances, so 4am it was.
4am on a Sunday was particularly miserable, but Veronica dragged herself up and set out. Using her soul gem to guide her the way she’d seen Heather do.
Finding a witch didn’t turn out to be that hard. Fighting a witch, however…
Veronica was used to fighting in a team, having someone to watch her back and to back up her attacks. Fighting alone, she was completely out of her depth, although Kyubey did show up to...encourage her, she supposed?
She barely scraped out a win over her first solo opponent, bruised, bleeding, and battered, and in no shape to go hunting for another one.
To make matters worse, she didn’t even get a grief seed out of it.
“This is going to be fun to explain to my parents,” Veronica said, as Kyubey watched her wrap up her bleeding arm. “But what about you? Aren’t you with the Heathers? They kicked me out, you know. Or I guess I quit? Same thing.”
Kyubey tilted its head.
“I have a contract with each magical girl. Alliances and rivalries come and go; it makes no difference to me.”
“Huh. Neutral party, then? Don’t think Heather will like that.”
“Heather Chandler is just one magical girl,” Kyubey said. “You have your own power, Veronica.”
“I suppose so,” Veronica said, looking up at the sunrise creeping across the sky. “Even if it looks just like theirs.” Because it did – she, and the Heathers all had the same powers, the same outfits, the same croquet mallets...just palette swapped. But Veronica had always been smart and resourceful. Even with the same tools, maybe she could use them in a different way, and learn to fight on her own.
.
.
Veronica sat next to Martha at lunch.
“What about the Heathers?”
“Fuck the Heathers,” Veronica said, and Martha let out an incredulous giggle at Veronica’s blunt language. “I’m done with them. I’m sorry I ever got involved with them. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness for how I’ve acted over the past month, but if you’ll have me...I’d like things to go back to the way they were, with us.”
And Martha smiled as bright as the sun.
.
.
Of course, things couldn’t go back the way they were, not entirely. By hunting in the mornings, Veronica could spend the afternoons with Martha, but she was often worn out by then, and she knew it worried Martha, that and the injuries she couldn’t fully hide.
She was getting better on that front, and if she’d faked a few absence notes to get a little more time for hunting, then, well, she thinks she has a bit of leeway there before it starts hurting her chances at the Ivy Leagues. She’d hoped to get to the point where she wouldn’t need the extra time, anyway.
At school, no one seemed to notice, or if they noticed, they didn’t care that Veronica was persona non grata with the Heathers now. The benefits of magical bargains, she supposed. She was still popular, and respected, and found that she could use that to protect Martha as well.
Heather was wrong. Veronica didn’t need her. Not for this, not for the peace at school she’d wanted all along.
She made sure to steer clear out of their way, however. It was surprisingly easy – people loved to gossip about the Heathers, so finding out where they were (and where they weren’t) was as simple as paying attention. Even their afternoon escapades – people had a good sense of at least what direction the Heathers were headed in, so Veronica could even take a few afternoons to hunt, if she wasn’t spending them with Martha.
Although Veronica was picking up less injuries in her battles, she was only getting a couple grief seeds over the course of many fights. A lot of that was due to changing up her approach to something more cautious – something that left her less banged up but unfortunately resulted in more witches escaping her. Like the one she’d been chasing this morning.
“Did you hear? The Heathers left school early.”
Veronica perked up. They weren’t talking to her, so she slipped closer to listen in. Her blood ran cold as from the snippets of conversation, she realized just where the Heathers were headed.
There had been a bad traffic pile up this morning. Lots of casualties. Undoubtedly the work of a witch; probably ‘the big one’, so Veronica had steered clear. And if it was ‘the big one’, if the Heathers were going after it...dammit! Heather knew they couldn’t take it with just the three of them, what was she thinking‽ Trying to prove some stupid point to Veronica?
Heather would kill her for it if she tried to help. Veronica didn’t even like her or the other Heathers. And she had only just started finding her feet fighting witches on her own, how much could she really help even if she was there? She should honestly just let them be idiots and get themselves hurt, let Heather have her temper-tantrum and suffer consequences for once in her life. They didn’t care about anyone else; why should Veronica care what happens to them?
Dammit.
Veronica took off running.
The witch in question wasn’t hard to find, a strong pulse guiding her soul gem. The entrance to the labyrinth was, in fact, larger than normal.
“Fuck me to hell,” Veronica said, then charged in. Any hope that this was just a ruse by the Heathers to get her to rush alone into a situation completely over her head was quickly dashed to pieces, as Veronica entered a scene that she’d never seen before.
The Heathers, actually struggling. Heather Duke had a nasty gash across her cheek – I hope that scars, bitch – Heather McNamara was surrounded, and Heather Chandler actually had hair sticking to her face.
All three of them were flagging, overwhelmed.
Veronica started fighting her way through towards them. Heather McNamara was the first one to see her, eyes growing wide as Veronica smacked her way through the crowd, clearing the way for her. Heather opened her mouth – to warn the others that Veronica was here, or to yell at her for disobeying Heather, or something. Veronica never found out what, as at that moment, the witch struck Heather Chandler with a powerful blow directly in the chest.
She gasped, a horrible choking sound, as Veronica and the others stood frozen. Heather’s lips moved, caught somewhere between words and retching, but if she said anything, none of them could hear it. Then something cracked.
Veronica surged forward, driving a croquet ball exactly on target, forcing the witch to abandon Heather and pay attention to her, instead. She struck it again, and again, keeping her distance.
“You’re not supposed to be here!” Heather Duke shouted, as she brought an attack from the rear. “Heather told you –“
“I know what Heather said!” Veronica shouted back. “Save the bitching for when we’re done here.”
Ball after ball struck the witch, all three of them keeping their distance after what had happened to Heather. But it wasn’t going to be enough.
Veronica hesitated. She needed to take a risk. There’d been an attack she’d been developing, but due to her caution when fighting on her own, she’d never actually tried it. But what other choice did she have now?
She spun around in a circle, holding her croquet mallet out as she spun herself around faster and faster. Then she released her weapon, letting the momentum carry it directly into the witch.
And that, finally, was enough.
The labyrinth faded away. Veronica dashed over to the fallen Heather, crouching down to her and grabbing her shoulders.
“Heather? Heather? Come on, I know you’re pissed at me, say something. Make me grovel and shit. Heather, get up, please!”
Heather McNamara sank to her knees beside them. “She’s not breathing…”
“Oh, god…”
Heather Duke picked up the grief seed that had gone overlooked by Veronica and Heather, and rolled it around in her hands. “With Heather gone, I suppose it falls to me to tell you to fuck off, Veronica. You deserted, you knew the price.”
“Oh for...Heather is dead, Heather! Because of this stupid pissing contest! You three couldn’t have taken that witch without me, and Heather knew it. And now she’s dead!” Veronica said, half-hysterical. “The rest of you would be too if I hadn’t saved your asses! So, shut. up. Heather.”
Heather’s expression darkened. “No. I’m in charge now. And you are going to shut up and listen to me. We don’t need you. We don’t want you. And I’m going to do what Heather should have done and get rid of you.” She held her croquet mallet up, prepared to swing, and Veronica reached for hers…
...that she’d thrown at the witch. And therefore didn’t have. Fuck.
“Heather, what are we going to do?” Heather McNamara interrupted, wiping tears away from her eyes. “Heather...everyone saw us leave with her, they’re going to think we did this.”
Heather did pause at that, and Veronica seized on the opportunity and scrambled out from under her swinging range.
“I have an idea,” Veronica said hurriedly, before pausing to catch up with her thoughts. “How about this. Heather doesn’t kill me, and in return, I’ll forge a letter from Heather explaining that this was by her own hand?”
Heather Duke considered it, for much longer than Veronica was comfortable with. Finally, she lowered her weapon.
“Fine, deal,” she said. “But stay the fuck away, after this.”
With pleasure, Veronica thought, and then got to work putting her forgery skills to good use.
.
.
Heather’s “suicide” was a shock to the whole school. But it served its purpose – not a single soul suspected Heather’s death had anything to do with the other Heathers, or Veronica, for that matter. Well – except for one person. JD, for some reason, seemed to think Veronica had gone and murdered Heather herself. But he was, if anything, impressed with her for it. It was concerning and a bit flattering, and it wasn’t like Veronica could properly refute it. In a way, Veronica did share some responsibility in Heather’s death – if she hadn’t quit their group, Heather wouldn’t have been so reckless.
The school insisted on daily assemblies about suicide and mental health awareness. It all felt a little hollow when Veronica knew full well there had been actual suicides at their school before, and only now that it was Heather instead of random nobodies, did anyone pretend to care. Now that they could make a spectacle of it. There were cameras, and reporters, everywhere, and Veronica hated all of it.
Heather Duke seemed to love it, at least, soaking up all the attention as the late Heather’s “best friend”. For everyone else, the nonsense just pushed them closer to their breaking point.
And for Heather McNamara, it pushed her past it, and humiliated her in front of the entire school.
Veronica, once again, couldn’t stay away.
“Heather, put the pills down.”
Heather slowly turned her head to look at her. “I haven’t taken any,” she said.
“Good, that’s good. Just put them down, okay?” Veronica said, slowly approaching her. “Heather’s just an asshole; no one wants you to kill yourself.”
“I haven’t taken any,” Heather repeated, “but I still feel like I’m dying, Veronica.”
“You’re not, you’re not dying Heather, you’re going to be okay…” she trailed off.
Heather’s soul gem was black, no trace of yellow left in it.
“Heather’s been keeping all the grief seeds for herself, hasn’t she?” Veronica realized. “Look, here, I’m sure I have one to spare…”
“I think...it’s too late.”
And then the world exploded.
.
.
Veronica ignored the fire alarms, and shoved her way past fellow students, uncaring of their protests, until Heather Duke was in her sights. She grabbed her, roughly.
“What the fuck, Veronica‽”
“Heather just turned into a witch.”
Heather ripped her arm out of Veronica’s grip. “What are you on about? I told you…”
“Heather turned into a witch!” Veronica raised her voice, “And it’s your fucking fault, so you’re going to fucking help me, Heather.”
“I’m not going to…”
“Listen to me! I don’t care if you believe me or not that it was Heather. There is a witch. In this school. Right now. And if we don’t do something about it now, there’s going to be a hell of a mess to clean up. So come fight the damn witch. Heather.”
Something in Veronica’s intensity must have gotten through to Heather, who scowled and reluctantly followed Veronica to what was left of the bathroom, and into the witch’s labyrinth.
Black water lapped at their feet, growing deeper as they walked, until they were trudging through it up to their knees. If they went much further, they wouldn’t be able to fight.
Something swam under the surface just ahead of them. Heather took aim, and the fight began.
They traded blows with the witch, getting knocked back and scrambling to get back up before the waves overtook them.
It was a hard fight, and when the battle was done and the two of them were standing once again in a ruined bathroom, neither of them moved for a long while.
“So,” Heather said, uncharacteristically subdued. “That was Heather.”
“Yeah. It was.” Veronica didn’t even have the energy to shout at Heather about it again.
“...We got played, then.”
“Yeah. We did.”
.
.
They tracked down Kyubey to the edge of the graveyard, a fragile temporary alliance as they demanded answers.
“You didn’t say anything about us turning into witches,” Heather said.
“You didn’t ask,” Kyubey said, unperturbed.
Veronica huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah? Try that one in court, asshole.”
“Is this going to happen to all of us, then?” Heather demanded.
“Only when your soul gem is corrupted,” Kyubey confirmed. “You can stave it off with the grief seeds.”
“And you really didn’t think this was important to mention earlier?” Veronica said. “Forget it, I don’t want to hear it, and I’m guessing you won’t take our deals back, either.”
“No.”
“Asshole.”
Kyubey wisely left, leaving Veronica and Heather alone and at the end of their alliance.
“This town is mine,” Heather said. “If I had known that sharing those grief seeds was hurting us all along…”
“You hated sharing them anyway,” Veronica pointed out.
“Just get the fuck out, Veronica. If it’s a competition, then I’m the one who’s going to survive. If I have to eliminate you, I will.”
.
.
Veronica didn’t skip town. Not yet, at least. She wasn’t going to let Kyubey off the hook.
There were better ways to do this, she supposed, but Veronica wasn’t going to waste any time with social niceties or wait until school went back into session after they finished investigating the explosion in the bathroom (they wouldn’t find anything), so instead, breaking and entering it was.
She pulled herself through JD’s bedroom window.
“I need a gun.”
JD choked. “Veronica, what?”
“I need a gun,” she repeated. “I need to kill the fucker who did this to me.” She took a breath. She didn’t know if this would work, if he would be able to see anything, but she took out her soul gem and transformed into her magical girl outfit, willing him to see it.
Apparently, he did see something, because he sat up straight and said, “Shit, Veronica, that’s one hell of a trick.”
“Yeah? Well, trust me, it sucks.”
She told him everything, not caring if she seemed crazy. It didn’t matter right now. She needed revenge, and she needed to tell someone, and she didn’t care what the consequences were.
JD only asked for clarification once.
“These witches cause unexpected suicides?” he asked, a dark expression passing through his eyes.
“Among other things, yeah.”
JD stood up, and within moments was tossing her a gun that Veronica scrambled to catch. “You know how to use it?”
“I’m a quick learner.”
.
.
JD couldn’t see Kyubey, of course, so the crash course in shooting he’d given her was worthwhile as they chased it down. She still missed the first few shots. JD fired a few times, blindly, but none of them hit until Veronica got a lucky shot in.
And it was for nothing.
“Fuck you,” Veronica said to the “new” Kyubey. “I don’t care what your game is, but I’m done playing it. I’ll go find other magical girls; I’ll tell them everything.”
“What do you think that will accomplish?”
“Heather Chandler didn’t become a witch. She just died. So there’s a way out.”
“So you’ll encourage them to kill themselves?” Kyubey asked. “How does that make you any better than a witch, already?”
Veronica shook her head. “It’ll just be foolish girls like me who pay the price, not innocents.”
“You can try,” Kyubey said indifferently. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
He turned tail and vanished into the night, and Veronica laughed until she cried.
.
.
Goodbye Mom, Dad, Martha. Goodbye, Harvard. She’d lost all of it when she’d first made her contract, even if she hadn’t yet realized it. She couldn’t even explain it to them, either, why she was going to disappear without a word. She hoped they didn’t spend much time looking for her.
Veronica tossed the last bag into Heather McNamara’s car (she wouldn’t be needing it anymore, after all).
“That’s everything,” she told JD. “We can look for disreputable dealerships to swap out the car for once we get a couple hours out, and then we’ll double back in the trade-in. I think we’ll head for West Virginia first. And then...I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
“Sounds good,” he said, strapping himself into the driver’s seat while Veronica took the passenger seat. She leaned back, looking up at the car roof.
“Kyubey will probably warn the other girls that I’m coming. Poison them against hearing me out, say I’m lying.”
“Then we’ll just have to be a little more persuasive,” JD said, patting the side of his trenchcoat where Veronica now knew he kept his handgun.
Maybe JD had been a little to eager to drop everything for the death crusade of a girl he barely knew, and maybe he’d been just a little too quick to promise to kill her before she became a witch. Maybe there were worse things in this world than witches and Veronica had unleashed another danger onto the world. But right now, she couldn’t afford to care.
She had work to do.