On Monday, Samara Morgan had walked out of a well into the ocean, and out of the ocean into a haunted house. She'd expected, from the way the ghosts with STAFF badges talked, to find herself back in her well on Tuesday night, with the cover firmly shut just the way that woman who was not your dirty-word mommy had left it.
Not so much. So much not
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Comments 15
The dead? They might spot those buckets getting filled by a solemn, silent little girl in a bedraggled dress with a stolen usherette cap on her head.
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She tried "Halloooooo!"ing a couple times to find whomever was working here -- someone had to be working here, right? -- then gave a little pony shrug at the lack of answer and picked up one of the popcorn buckets, dumping the entire contents into her mouth at once, expanding her cheeks like a deranged chipmunk. She picked up another bucket, balanced it precariously on her hindquarters, and -- with her mouth full -- called out "Thanks, whoever!" before heading for the theater doors for the double feature.
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Annnd then she actually made it inside. And things... just didn't feel right to her. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, but it made her turn on her heels and walk back out.
She didn't need a distraction that badly, anyway.
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Hmm.
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Yeah, once she'd figured that this was not what she came here to see, Gwen'd just see herself out.
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Lowering the temperature to much chillier temps, for a start.
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OR WHEN A HORSE CAME IN TO WATCH HER MOVIE WHAT THE RARRR.
Samara kind of had a thing about horses.
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