Molly’s Picnic Gone Very, Very Wrong

    “This is stupid,” Rane hissed angrily. “I can’t believe you forced me out to a picnic, in, what - the middle of the woods? Emos, I tell you, emos..”

    “Still not an emo,” Molly said, setting down the bag she’d brought. She opened it, pulling out a black blanket and laying it on the ground.

    “Says the one who brought a black blanket on a hot spring afternoon,” he scoffed. “I’m only doing this because Heather said she’d be friends with me if I made an effort to reach out to you and ‘realize how cool of a person you are.’” He made air quotes as he said that.

    “You think I’d want to go on a picnic with someone who beats me up daily?” Molly responded, tone utterly emotionless. “Heather said I should ask you.”

    “Of course she did. You do anything she asks.”

    “Hypocrite.”

    “Wh- hey!” Rane’s face flushed red. “I don’t understand why she’d be friends with someone like you. Emo little gay sh-”

    Molly raised her hand in protest. “Mm. I never said I was gay.”

    “Well, I think everyone knows!”

    “And I think everyone knows you have a crush on Heather,” Molly said, glancing up. Her eyes still lacked light, any sign of human emotion. She pulled out a turkey sandwich from the basket, holding it out to the other. “Eat.”

    “You didn’t poison this, did you?” Rane met her eyes suspiciously.

    “No.”

    “Mkay.” With a huff, the blondie bit down. His eyes gave a slight hint of surprise, though he didn’t say anything. “..Tastes like a normal sandwich.”

    “That’s what I was aiming for,” Molly responded, biting into her apple. The juice dribbled onto her chin, and she slowly brought her tongue over it before she retracted it and closed her mouth. It was a long, extended motion, and she let out a slow breath once she had finished.

    “Is that all you’re going to eat?” Rane asked. He didn’t sound worried or mocking, just genuinely curious.

    “For now, yes.” Molly glanced up again, noticing Rane had already finished his sandwich.

    “..Why did I agree to this in the first place?” he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “On what could be generously considered a date with my worst enemy.”

    “Why do you hate me so much?” Unlike Rane earlier, Molly’s tone lacked the morbid curiosity, and instead just sounded like she was reading something off of a script.

    “You haven’t heard the rumors?” His eyes widened in surprise. “The woman herself hasn’t heard the rumors?? Must be doing a bad job on spreading propaganda if she herself hasn’t heard. Good going, me..”

    “So you spread the rumors about me?”

    “Ddduuhhh. Who else would?” Rane grinned. “Wanna know what they’re about?”

    “Yes.”

    Rane lifted a hand behind his head, holding the other out in front of him, as if to count on his fingers. With each new statement, he held another up. “Let’s see… You’re gay, you have a massive crush on Heather, you consider everyone at school your plaything, you’re a serial killer, you cut yourself for attention.. I could go on and on if I had more fingers.”

    Molly glanced at the watch positioned squarely on her wrist. “Why don’t you, then? We have time to kill.”

    Rane grinned wildly, beginning to speak again. Time seemed to drag on incredibly slowly, and eventually, his eyes began to droop.

    “Wh.. at.. san.. ch..”

    “What did I put in the sandwich?”

Rane tried to nod, but his head stopped halfway, his chin hitting his chest with silent pain.

“Simple. Rohypnol. Wrapping the drug in turkey and letting it dissolve works surprisingly well.”

Rane’s eyes tried to widen, but his central nervous system had rendered useless, and he slumped over, completely limp. Molly opened her bag again, brandishing her knife. Unlike you’d expect, it was a simple, sharp knife, rendering the cutting easier. She placed a hand firmly on Rane’s shoulder before shoving him to the ground in a swift motion. If his nervous system hadn’t shut down, Molly was sure he’d feel terrified. She lifted his shirt off, and placed her knife into his chest, bringing it down in a slow yet sure motion. She then reached into his body, removing each of the organs with a sharp tug so they disconnected from all the things holding them in place. Throwing every organ to the woods, Molly felt generous knowing the wolves would eat well that night. Along with the organs came the bones, which were a pain sticking in her bag. Molly had to break quite a few just so they’d fit, but she figured it was fine since they’d be 6 feet under in her backyard soon enough. She couldn’t bury them here, since people would notice the upturned soil. She then cut off the top of Rane’s head, almost like you would in a surgery, and extracted the skull and brain.

Eventually, Rane’s body was a fleshy mass of skin and muscle, which Molly folded like a blanket and set inside her actual blanket. The best thing about black was that you couldn’t see blood stains all that well. Equipped well, she headed home, being sure to duck through the trees so people wouldn't notice the blood stains on her hands and clothes.

Once she was home, Molly threw the bone bag to the side with a satisfying crunch. She would deal with that later. Right now, she was hungry.

Walking to the kitchen, Molly severed the body parts from each other, gently laying them on a tray. The meat could last another day, so Molly put the legs and torso in the freezer. She then set the oven and let the head, arms, and neck cook. She smiled as she smelled it and heard it sizzling.

While it cooked, Molly went and changed her clothes out of the bloody ones. If she moved fast enough, they might not stain. Throwing them into the washing machine, Molly took her bone bag and lazily dumped the bones into a pre-made hole that she’d dug before leaving. The bag and blanket then joined her clothes in the washer.

Eventually, the oven let out a satisfying “ding”, and Molly eagerly grabbed her fork and knife, setting the medium-rare skin and muscle on her plate. She carefully cut off a finger, shoving it into her mouth and melting as the taste infected her senses. It had been so long since she’d last had a good meal like this, and she was ecstatic.

Rane was a bad kid, but a dang good supper.