While watching the recent episode of Gossip Girl and tearing it apart with a friend, I had a great idea. Someone should write an episode inspired by Battle Royale, in which the characters are forced to kill each other. I'm too lazy to write a long piece involving everyone, but here is a short one featuring Serena and Vanessa. I should probably edit this and flesh it out some, but I'm lazy and tired. I guess I won't reveal any other ideas for a series in case I get motivated to write more. Please to enjoy:
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Serena’s grip on the tree trunk tightened when she felt the breeze sway its boughs. She had surprised herself by scaling the giant pine so quickly. Her talons proved useful renting the bark to scale to a point where her prey couldn’t spy her insectile form.
The wind brought a faint jangle of what could only be chunky Bohemian jewelry and the scent of patchouli. Squinting, Serena whipped her head toward the noise. She sharply exhaled the musky odor while watching Vanessa slowly make her way along the path below. Vanessa was dressed in earthy camouflage in order to blend in with the—wait, no; it was just her billowy peasant blouse and matching gypsy skirt that fit in seamlessly with the environment. Her ratty, teased hair matched the drab earth perfectly, but Serena’s senses were too keen to be fooled.
Vanessa felt inspired by the nature surrounding her and stopped, pulling out her small writing pad she kept on her person for just such occasions. She felt the spirit of Henry David Thoreau coursing through her as she jotted down the first line of what would be her masterpiece: “When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods. . .” Yes, she thought, I’ll call it Walden, by Vanessa Abrams.
Serena saw her chance to strike, but couldn’t resist toying with her victim before the kill. She silently removed her underwear with an internal thank you that the Plan B had worked and she wasn’t pregnant with Nate Archibald, Tripp Archibald or Carter Baizen’s child. Otherwise she wouldn’t be menstruating, which is the only time she ever wore panties; and she would be denied her fun. She let the silky couture undergarment flutter to the ground at Vanessa’s bare, Hobbit-like feet with a smug feeling of triumph that it would be the most expensive article of clothing to come in close contact with the gutter churl.
Vanessa halted her glorious writing process and bent down to get a better look at what had dropped before her. She turned the smooth material over in her many-ringed fingers with a confused look on her wizened, beyond-her-years face. Serena loosened her hold on the tree and let herself drop directly above Vanessa as she spread her legs in midair. The gypsy touched the dark stain on the underwear. Her eyes widened with realization.
She would recognize those blood clots anywhere. Vanessa heard the telltale whooshing of air rushing through a cavernous orifice and looked up too late. Serena’s gaping vagina swallowed Vanessa whole and was already beginning the digestion process. Inner teeth went to work gnashing brittle, osteoporotic bones (Vanessa was vegan and lacked a vital source of calcium from milk), and acidic fluids melted away at the scant meat available. In a matter of hours there would be nothing left but tacky jewelry.
Serena squinted and drew her mouth into a creepy smile with a rumble of her gut. She was still hungry, but that would have to wait. She had to prepare for a formal gala where she suspected all her family and friends might end up by happenstance. She decided that her next meal would be her brother Eric; no one cared about him anyway. Not that Rufus or their mother Lily would think to inquire about him, but if they did, she would just tell everyone that he went to live in Vietnam. Or died of super AIDS.
