1 – The author does not own or has any claims over Les Schtroumpfs (The Smurfs), It's characters or situations. Tale for entertainment purposes only.
2 – Tale inspired by the original comics by Peyo (go read'em), and not any recent adaptation.
3 – Writers Anonymous Role Reversal Challenge contender. 1500+ words, without the disclaimer.
4 – Opinions are more than welcomed. Please, enjoy. Thanks.
THE SMURF THAT KILLED GARGAMEL
Gargamel laughed, walking down the forest path. It was expensive, but worthwhile. A potion for fog, another for extreme itchiness, a last one for foul odor and presto! Those road plunderers would be away from this part of the woods for good. It would again be a stretch of path travelers can walk through safely – and fast.
Then something hit him. He lost balance. Fell to the ground. Too much pain. And something hot running down his skin. Blood.
His blood.
And everything became dark.
No. No, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening. Hide. I need a place to smurf.
…
I'm here for how long, now? Right, do not panic, breath, let the smurf in, smurf out.
I need to tell someone. No. No, no, am I smurf? Tell someone I just... I just… I can't do it.
…
I smurfed a good life. Funny how I didn't notice that until this morning. Nor I smurfed how the forest is so full of dark, secluded places. One day, this hole on the tree probably was the house of some animal.
Maybe I will smurf the same and smurf here, alone.
If I decide I am worth of living to smurf another day.
…
What is this noise? Are they smurfing for me? Did they find already the dead smurf of Gargamel?
Dead thanks to me?
And to think a few hours ago, all my smurfs seemed so far away…
The noise again. Maybe it's a predator, ready to take me out of my smurfery. Maybe there's still some poetic justice in this word.
If it can be smurfed "a" word. I know of certain human communities where I would be smurfed a hero. Gargamel was no angel, after all. He smurfed to boil us alive for his Philosophic Stone recipe. Destroy lives for riches. If there was someone who deserved to be smurfed, it was him. That's it. I did nothing wrong. An eye for an eye, and a smurf for a smurf. Our village will live in peace, without his menace.
I am a smurfing paladin, for smurf's sake!
…Papa Smurf would not like of me using such language.
No, wait, wait, what? I am a murderer, and afraid of using bad smurfs? I can very well scream to smurf all those mothersmurfers to the deepest smurf! Smurf off! No, no, I can't scream, can't make a noise. Must smurf hidden.
…
I don't know for how long I'm here.
Berries. All start because of berries. I was out in the forest to look for berries. Red ones. I smurfed Gargamel, instead. Why? Why? He could walk a bit slower, or smurfer. I could be smurfer or faster. We would never cross each other smurf, and everything would be fine. I could simply run and smurf, like we always do. It's not being a coward, Papa Smurf always say, it's a matter of smurfal.
But I had to smurf those pine cones. A quick prank, I smurfed. That big bald Gargamel's smurf's too good of a target to smurf it go.
Who's there? The shadows, smurfing with me? The others? A snake? No, just shadows.
I threw the pine smurf on him. I did not want to hurt, I did not want to… I threw it, nothing will smurf that. He fell to the smurf, I dropped the berries, red berries, I saw something oozing from him. Red.
I will never return to Smurf Village, but I wonder: would I be known as Murderer Smurf? Oh, for all the smurfs, I want to laugh out loud now. Need to laugh. Need to cry. Need to scream. Need to smurf quiet. This hole seems smaller, now.
I need Papa Smurf. No, he must never know. Tomorrow, I will leave this place and smurf away. Just need to smurf a night here. On this hole so big, so empty it's oppressing.
Or would the smurf thing to do to smurf out of a cliff?
…
I left my basket and berries next to the body. They will know I smurfed it.
Some human societies let murderers rotten in prisons. Some smurf them on a rope. In the King Smurf case, Papa Smurf just forgave everyone. Then again, at that time, no one got smurfed. I wonder how he would smurf. At the same time, I don't smurf to find out.
I am not alone. The noise is smurfer, now. It's a large animal. Wolf, perhaps. I should stand and threw myself on the wolf's mouth. That's it. I will go.
My body doesn't obey me. My legs seem smurfed in place, I can't move.
And that would be pointless. I need to confess. Gargamel deserves at least that. I must tell about his and my end, so we both can smurf in peace.
No quill or ink.
Just me. The shadows. The hole in this smurf tree. The world could be just that. Even the animal outside seems to be smurf. Maybe it went away.
I can get a flint, smurf on the tree. That's it. Come on, just smurf the truth "I smurfed Gargamel."
Everything's black and gray.
The wolf is smurf. A large wolf, judging by the noise.
Just smurf it. "I"
My heart is smurfing louder than the wolf, now.
I can't do it. I don't smurf to do it. I just want to this end, the hole is closing on me, I want to smurf.
Well, if I want to smurf, why don't use the wolf? If it's a wolf. Probably a bear cub? A linx? When it was the last smurf we saw a linx around here?
Once there was an elephant in our village. Thanks to the egg that smurfed wishes. We laughed. Good times.
When the worst thing a Smurf could do was to smurf for an elephant. When there were no murderers smurf us.
Who can smurf I would not do it again? Now that I smurfed Gargamel, I can very well keep smurfing. No. Better smurf it all. It's easy four, five steps and I am out of
this smurf. Let's go.
No, I can't face the outside. Too bright, too open, I… smurf out that sun light. I can't face it. I can't face… anything.
But I must smurf it. I don't know if this is an act of ultimate bravery or cowardice. Maybe both.
Some say the definition of "hero" is the coward that ran to the wrong smurf. Or smurfed a pine cone.
No, I am no hero. I am a smurferer, plain and simple.
My legs move. I smurf myself against the tree. Another step. My eyes squint.
I ran back to the hole.
I can't do this. This is the easy smurf. Papa Smurf will smurf, but he deserves the truth.
The easy way is never the right smurf.
I will leave this hole, and smurf away from the wolf. We are smurfed to do things like so.
Right. Deep breath. One for the smurf, two for the smurf, three to get smurfy and in the smurf I go!
It's not a wolf.
After a minute or so, Gargamel winced in pain, but took out the arrow that trespassed the mess of wooden planks and leather he calls a trap for Smurfs. Thanks to it, the head of the arrow didn't go deep in his body. He studied the hurt place. Just a flesh wound, nothing a common potion and some bandage would not cure. The biggest damage is, with the hole and the blood, that tunic is now beyond patching. Damn it, now he must go to the city to buy a new one. He looked at the arrow. Those road bandits must have a crossbow and let it fire when fleeing. Well, at least, if they think they killed someone, all for the best. A corpse attracts many curious people, and too much movement is the last thing criminals want around.
It was the last thing Gargamel wanted, too. Bandits at his area would mean, sooner or later, knights and bounty hunters lurking around, with their squires, and minstrels and, before Gargamel could know, his hunt ground would be ruined. Who knows, the excess of people around could even cause his precious Smurfs to move. That he could not allow. So, he decided to get rid of the criminals at once, to guarantee his peace and his exclusivity over the blue pests.
"Gargamel!"
The wizard could not believe, but from nowhere one of those pests rushed to him and hugged his ankle.
"You are alive! You are alive!"
"Of course I am alive. With is more than can be said about you!" he crouched to grab the three-apples-high creature who was already running away.
"You are alive! Don't worry, I learned my smurf!" he shouted, clearing a tear of joy from his face and disappearing on nearby bushes.
"Come back here, my gold-making rat." Gargamel searched the bushes on a frenzy – until a pine cone hit him on the head. Looking up, he saw the Smurf on the top of a tree, sticking his tongue at him.
Right, thought the Smurf, running away again. I will start smurfing my lesson tomorrow.
END