(Hi! This is my first Heathers fanfic! I really love to think about AUs, so I hope that this is okay. Please don't be afraid to offer critique, because it betters a writer. I don't own anything of Heathers.)

"Please, don't do this," she begged, her voice croaking and breaking. Her face turned red, and she felt her stream of tears dry as she clawed at his ebony trench coat. The fabric was stiff, heavy and felt really weird against her low-cut nails. Her eyes pleaded with him to show some compassion. He stifled out a laugh and looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Darling, the heart has to harden eventually over time—it's a sign of maturity and adaption within this cold world, and boy, you turned hard for a minute. I was so proud of you…and you know what they say. Carpe diem…" He let out a chuckle upon looking at her furrowed eyebrows. "Seize the day! But clearly, you don't want to seize anything, so allow me to be your substitute. I know what the fuck I'm doing," he rashly spat. She saw him reach for something, but didn't care-as she did something outrageous.

It happened so quickly, but she opened up the shutters and stepped up, a little bit too dramatically—rightfully confusing the perpetrator behind her as she glanced at him—and she tried to look down at the grass and pavement to find a good aim. After balancing herself, she felt a sudden adrenaline rush as her feet left the old, chipped surface as she looked at the sudden, distorted world that seemed to stretch and morph into minimalism. She winced upon landing on the border where concrete ended and the grass terrace began. Her cheap leggings ripped around the thigh, and she felt her knees scab and hands slightly break open, but she swallowed the pain. A loud clap echoed from the window, but she refused to look back.

"Oh, man! You did it right this time! Why don't you bottle up that energy and save it for our little mission, eh? Let's tag team!"

"I'm not doing shit with you anymore!"

"Stop fighting me! You know you want it, this isn't daytime television, darling! You don't have an audience; nobody's here to support you. Nobody is here to save you, but me. I know how discombobulated your mind is and I know that you want a fresh start. I'm giving you the opportunity to have one, we just need to delete all of the filth from our records to give ourselves a clean slate."

His speech was always so eloquent, yet so freakin' eerie. He loved to mess with her brain, and she hated it. Taking a deep breath, she clenched her fists together as she started to feel fatigue.

"I wish I had met you in kindergarten. Then you wouldn't be so damaged. Then this wouldn't be happening."

"You know, sweetheart, you should look at someone when you speak to them."

She buried her hands in her face and groaned. She was so tired. Her life was already bad enough, and she thought that this new guy would be a Godsend, but he was really like Satan—appearing to be so beautiful and suave, when he was really grotesque and erratic. He wanted to use her for his own selfish gain. He wanted to destroy them both, slowly and sickeningly and if he couldn't do it after he purged himself in his insanity, he'd do it now to dispose of any waste of time. Fine, then. If he wants to do crazy things, I'll play along, and I'll humor him, she thought as she wiped her tears before her feet began to bolt, picking up the pace as she heard fabric whoosh and footsteps follow her.

She would leave, but she wouldn't let him have his way. She was going to take the pacifist route so that nobody could suffer. She was submissive her whole life and she allowed him to show her how to meld that into evil, but not anymore. She wanted the next action she took to be a big middle finger to him, and if she was lucky, though it was not planned, maybe she could bait the cops to him, too. Her mind played all of the events up to now in her head, and eventually she began to grow hysterical. She yelped and sobbed; her heart was aching. Her legs also ached, and she felt her body urging to give up, but she saw her destination ahead…just one more block. She began to tune everything out, including the psychotic man chasing her. She was so good at this that she could not hear a voice say, "I love to have a girl that plays hard to get. I love the chase!"

As she slowed down, she felt herself in a daze. She stepped onto the olive brick, looking out into the horizon. She could have sworn that she saw fog, and blushed as she saw a familiar face smile up at her from below. He was so kind and beautiful—he wasn't like the others. She knew him best and saw the façade he hid under, knowing that. Maybe she was hallucinating, but she didn't care. She felt safe, and decided to converse with her unexpected company.

"The other night, I had a dream. You were in it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! You came into my room, on a white horse with wings!"

"Oh, Peggy the Pegasus!"

"Yeah…and we sailed into the sky. I know it's childish, but I want to do that again."

"We can. Just jump into my arms."

"But…you're down there. I'm not sure."

"Do it, sweetheart. Trust me—look, I have my arms wide open."

She felt nervous, and her heart raced. Such an ultimatum brought her to freeze in order to regain some form of sanity, and compose her thoughts. There was no going back to a normal life at this point.

It's crazy to think how a "hello" brought me here…

(I hope that this was alright for a prologue. Please let me know what you think. In the next chapter, we're going to rewind back to the beginning of the school year to see how everything came to this.)