"She Just Wanted to be Heard Days 4-6," PG-13, The Ring/Supernatural
She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 4: Suffer the Nightmare
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 4 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 2,590
Summary: Quinn's dog, Mukluk, senses the curse overshadowing his master. Quinn and Svetlana have another synchronized dream, but this time, they are rescued by a blond stranger.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series.
Beta Thanks: Thanks to KaijaWest and Meredevachon for their betas of this chapter.
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #4 Blood and coclaim100 prompt #4 Sight.
Author's Notes: This chapter is a cross-over with Supernatural (Dean Winchester makes a brief cameo.)
The scene with Janet and Kelsey playing cards is based on true events, hee. My niece and nephew were both under ten and I was teaching them to play poker with "Sailor Moon" cards. We played for candy and pennies. Within an hour, they were both royally kicking my ass at poker. It was a scream. XD
"Purple monkey dishwasher" is a phrase from The Simpsons. The characters were passing a message from person to person, like you'd do in the Telephone game, and as always with Telephone, the message got screwed up by the time it reached the last person. The cryptic phrase "purple monkey dishwasher" got added onto the end of the message.
The next morning, while Quinn brushed his hair in the mirror and Svetlana worked on her make-up, she confronted him about the night before. "Are we ever going to talk about it?"
Quinn didn't immediately get what she meant. "Svet, we were hollering and screaming bloody murder. Jodie had to come check on us. She didn't know we'd both be sitting there naked on the bed with the covers thrown across the room." He moved his head from side to side to narcissistically check his hair from different angles. "I'm sure she's just as embarrassed as you are."
"That's not what I'm talking about," she replied. "I'm talking about us dreaming the same thing. That's really freaky, Quinn."
"I know it is. But what do you want me to do about it?"
Svetlana thought about that for a moment, and finally shook her head. "I don't know, I guess just admit that there's something weird going on here. Stop pretending that Jodie made the video."
"If she didn't make it, then who did?" Satisfied, Quinn put down his brush, turning to her. "Are you ready yet?"
"I don't know, and no." Her tone was irritated. Svetlana didn't like being rushed, and she liked Quinn's stubborn denial even less. "Don't you believe in anything... outworldly?"
Rolling his eyes, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. "I think you mean otherworldly. Svet, we've got to get to my parent's house and pick up my dog before they leave for work, and you're slowing things down by praddling on about cursed videotapes. Okay, Svet, out with it. What's your big theory?"
Not appreciating his tone, Svetlana worked on her make-up and didn't look at him as she spoke. "I'm not sure. But I know that Jodie didn't make that tape. She doesn't have that power."
"Power?"
She glanced at him for only a second before continuing, her words halting and unsure. "The tape, it... it has some sort of... spell on it. After you watch it, you have nightmare. Freaky nightmare, like what happen to us last night."
Quinn just stared at her for a short time before bursting into snickery laughter. "A spell? Svet, are you listening to yourself?"
Svetlana's bottom lip trembled as she tried to finish putting on her mascara. "Don't make fun of me, Quinn Kirkland. Do you have a better explanation?"
"Hey... hey, I'm sorry." He recognized the signs of a girl about to cry. Quinn turned her toward him and wrapped his arms around her hips; she reluctantly allowed him to do it, but didn't look him in the eyes. "Don't cry, okay? I guess I have to admit that I don't fully understand what's going on. But I don't believe in curses or spells. The dream last night... it was just a fluke. The tape freaked us out and..." Even he was running out of words to explain what was happening. "...and we... we just had a nightmare. It won't happen again, so let's just forget it."
Ten minutes later, they were on their way out the door. Jodie busied herself in the kitchen. When she saw Quinn and Svetlana pass by, she hid her face behind the open freezer door and mumbled, "Bye," back to Quinn's call that they were going out. They'd both just been sitting there on the bed, naked as jaybirds! How embarrassing!
Quinn's father was already gone when they arrived, but his mother, Dahlia, was still home, just finishing up her omelette. She smiled at them both and asked them to hurry up and get Mukluk so she could lock up and head off to work.
Mukluk was a seven-year-old Alaskan Malamute, Quinn's pride and joy. He kept him at his parent's house most of the time because a small apartment was no place for such a large, graceful, beautiful dog. The animal needed room to run around in, like the Kirkland's ample yard. Dahlia opened the back door and called, "Mukkie! Daddy's here! Time to go walkies!"
The porch filled with the sound of panting and furry feet bounding into the house as Mukluk ran to the sound of her voice. Quinn stood in the foyer and clapped his hands. "Hey Mukkie! Come 'ere boy." His face shone with a proud, loving smile.
The dog heard and saw his master, steered toward him, and suddenly stopped with a flurry of sliding paws and skittish whimpers. Mukluk looked at Quinn as if he wasn't sure he knew him. He gazed at Dahlia, looked back at Quinn, gave Svetlana a short glance, and then looked to Dahlia again for an explanation with another confused whimper. Everything in the dog's expression said he wasn't sure he should go to Quinn, that he wasn't sure his master was... safe?
Dahlia's brow furrowed. "What's the matter, Mukluk?"
Mukluk whimpered again, looking from one person to another.
"Come on, Mukkie." Quinn, bewildered, clapped his hands again. "You wanna go walkies, huh?"
Dahlia laughed awkwardly, having no clue what could be up with her son's pet. "It hasn't been that long since you've seen Quinn. Maybe you should show him the leash."
Quinn dutifully held up the leash. Trying to help, Svetlana showed Mukluk the frisbee they'd brought. The dog responded favorably, crawling a little closer to them, and whimpered again.
"What's the matter, boy?" asked Quinn.
Mukluk stood up and sniffed at Quinn, his muzzle bobbing up and down. He cocked his head curiously to one side. Master didn't smell quite right.
The dog's eyes skimmed past Svetlana to a corner behind her and Quinn. Instantly, Mukluk went into protective, guarding mode, and began to growl fiercely. The fur on his back stood on end more than usual, his ears pricked up, and his tail stiffened. Everyone backed up a step.
Dahlia saw only an empty corner. "What's up, Mukkie? There's nothing there."
Svetlana realized that she could see something in the spot Mukluk was reacting to, but only out of the corner of her eye. It was a little girl, dark-haired... her hair covering most of her face. At least, that's what it looked like from what she could see of it. It... it was the girl from the videotape...
Svetlana looked over at Quinn. The expression on his face sent chills up her spine. He could see the little girl too. Frightened, but trying to hide it, Quinn turned his head sharply to glare at the corner. Svetlana looked too. When they stared directly at the spot, they couldn't see the child anymore. She just disappeared from view.
Mukluk stopped growling at the corner rather abruptly. He looked at the people around him with confusion, then padded over and nudged Quinn's hand with his muzzle.
Quinn jumped at the unexpected contact. "Uh... hey... hey boy." He crouched down to pet the dog, who no longer seemed so wary of him. Quinn swallowed hard. They all were wondering what had just happened.
Noticing her son's pallor and shocked eyes, Dahlia ran a hand over his head and asked, "You okay, Quinn?"
He tried to shake it off. "Yeah, I'm just wondering what was up with Mukkie." Quinn put on a smile he didn't feel.
On their way out of the house, Svetlana looked at him with a drawn mouth and uneasy eyes. "Did you see that little girl?"
"Of course I saw her; couldn't you tell?" Quinn replied a little shortly.
"She's watching us..." Svetlana almost whispered.
With a loud swallow, he snapped back, "Quit it."
By the time they got to the park, they were feeling a bit more relaxed, ready for some leisurely play with Quinn's dog. They played a little frisbee catch, each of them racing Mukluk for it just for fun.
"I'm going to get it before you!" Quinn cried as he ran for the frisbee. The Malamute ecstatically raced next to his master and barked with glee, tongue lolling out to the side. He beat the dog by a hair, got down on all fours, and took the frisbee in his mouth, growling comically. "Rrrr, rrrr, mine, mine!"
Svetlana laughed and watched Mukluk try to get it from him. "You realize that have doggie drool on it?"
Not having thought of that, Quinn made a surprised, funny face and instantly spit out the frisbee with a disgusted, "Puh!"
After another twenty minutes of play and a long drink from the water fountain for all of them (the frisbee used as a water dish for Mukluk), they spent some time lying in the grass and staring up at the sky, a favorite thing of Quinn's to do on a lazy mid-morning. "Isn't it a beautiful day? How could anybody have a problem on a day like today?" he asked, looking up at the swaying tree branches above them.
The night before, they'd been up extremely late, and suffered the nightmare. The lost sleep caught up with them for several minutes while lying there in the grass. First Quinn, then Svetlana, fell asleep. Even Mukluk yawned as he lay down next to his snoozing master.
Quinn approached a table where his older sister, Janet, and her two-year-old daughter, Kelsey, were sitting. Janet was shuffling a deck of cards quite rapidly. Both she and Kelsey were clothed in a predominance of dressy black, for some reason. Janet had her dark hair pulled back on the sides, and had done the same to Kelsey's light brown hair, tying it back with a big bow. Kelsey's little legs, sheathed in white tights, bobbled back and forth under the table. "Hey Quinnster. Did you come to play?" Janet asked.
He smiled. "You know I'm always up for a game. What are we playing for, pennies or candy?"
Kelsey said brightly, "Mommy's teaching me to play poker!"
Quinn tried to sit down, but Janet put her foot against his chair and shoved it away from him. "You can't play right now."
Taking it as a typical older sister joke, Quinn scowled at her and said, "Why not?"
"Because you haven't done it yet." She started to deal out cards for herself and Kelsey at, again, a rapid pace.
Quinn was, of course, bewildered. "Done what?"
"How should I know, I haven't even seen the tape," she said with a shrug. "Do you remember when we were kids and we'd play Telephone? Everyone would sit in a circle and one person would start out with a phrase that they'd whisper to the next person, and the phrase would go around the group until it came back to the person who first said it? This is like that, except there are tons of circles that branch out until you can't find the origin anymore. It never ends, Quinn. It just goes on and on." She pointed out a set of nearby balcony doors, as if to say he should go there.
"Telephone! I like that game. Purple monkey dishwasher!" Kelsey giggled.
Quinn left them with the sound of Kelsey giggling in his ears, heading toward those open french doors. They did not open onto a balcony, but onto the clearing, the clearing with the well. Here he was again. Somehow, he always ended up back here. Quinn rolled his eyes, throwing up his arms in defeat. "Not this. Hey, why am I dreaming about this stupid well so much? Hello? Creepy floating lady, where are you?"
Svetlana huddled at his side. Where did she come from? "Quinn, it's happening again. How do we make it stop?"
Quinn turned his head and yelped at what he saw. It couldn't have been more unexpected and cryptic to him. He recoiled in surprise to see his own fraternal twin sister Danica floating upright beside the well. Although she should have been standing firmly on the ground, her feet hovered a foot off its surface. Her eyes had become mirrors - no whites, no irises, no pupils, just mirrors that reflected his face. Even stranger, a spiral of fire flowed between various spots on Danica's body, like a living, liquid river of flames. It continued to move as Quinn approached her.
"Danica?! What... what's going on?! What are you doing? And no weird dream talk!"
Danica turned her mirror eyes to him. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I wish I knew enough to save you." Her voice sounded like he had never heard it, all deep and echoing. "I see with new sight, with these eyes, but I can't see the future."
Svetlana looked up at Quinn's sister in awe.
"What's that... that stuff coming out of you?" he asked.
"Serpent fire. What do you think?" she replied sarcastically, as if he should know what that is. Then her face became sad, looking down at him in anguish. "It's all for you, Quinn. You belong to Samara now. The well is her home, and will soon be yours."
In reaction to that statement, Svetlana whimpered and began to weep. "Something bad going to happen to us!"
The next sound that met Quinn's ears sent a chill through him. It sounded like fingernails scratching along the bricks of the well... almost like someone was climbing it with their bare hands. The scratching noise grew suddenly loud, like frantic rats trapped in a wall, coming right at him.
A man Quinn did not recognize ran up next to him. He was quite handsome, with dirty blond hair cropped close to his head and a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. Quinn barely had time to register that the man was wearing some sort of golden, horned amulet around his neck. "If you're going to be here, at least arm yourself!" the man shouted.
Quinn looked around. "Arm myself with - " Before he could finish the question, he saw another shotgun sitting on the rim of the well, on the opposite side from where he stood. Quinn turned to get it, and suddenly, the scratching sound coming from within the well stopped.
Very slowly and carefully, Quinn placed his hand on the rim of the well and reached for the gun on the other side... when the ice cold, wet, grey hand of someone who had drowned long ago came up from within the darkness and clamped down on his wrist.
Quinn had barely even gasped and begun to recoil when the unknown male cried, "Watch it!" and shoved his gun into the well, aiming right for the person's face. The blast of the shotgun still rang in Quinn's ears when he came awake a moment later.
"YAH!!" He awakened in the park with a great start, his entire body jerking. Mukluk yelped and began to get up on his paws, as his master had startled him too. He blinked several times before looking over at Svetlana. "Did we fall asleep?"
Svetlana was just waking up; her eyes filled with tears. "Quinn, I don't like these dreams. I want them to go away."
"Hey, shhhhh..." He gave her a brief hug. "Okay, maybe the dreams aren't going to stop. We need to go back to my apartment and... we'll research this thing on the Internet. Jolene said there was a website, right?"
Svetlana nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She pointed at Quinn's face just as he started to feel the warm fluid running to his lip. "Quinn, your nose is bleeding."
He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. Yup, bleeding all right. "Have you got any tissues?" While she looked in her purse, Quinn went to check his watch. "How long have we been asleep?"
His eyes opened wide in shock as he pushed up his sleeve to reveal the mark of a hand burned into his skin.
it won't stop
She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 5: Finding Out
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 5 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 3,474
Summary: Quinn, Svet, and Jodie use the Internet to find out more about the videotape. They stumble upon someone very familiar with it: Vanessa. Unfortunately for Jolene, she begins experiencing the effects of the tape also in the form of hallucinations.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series.
Beta Thanks: Thanks, as always, to KaijaWest and Meredevachon for putting up with me.
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #5 Lost Haven and coclaim100 prompt #5 Discussions.
Author's Notes: Vanessa is a character from the short film "Rings," which was used as a promotional bridge between the first movie and the second. The hot blond with the shotgun is Dean Winchester, a character from the show Supernatural. The dream that Quinn describes about running through quicksand to escape aliens is an actual dream that I had once, heheh.
I just wanted to put the note in here that I have made my final decision on the time period of this fanfic - it starts in March 2004. I was having trouble deciding because the movies put The Ring Two as happening six months after The Ring. But then, the promotional website for Ring Two set Jake's death at early 2005. (Jake being the kid who died at the beginning of the movie.) This was just a distortion of the website, done because that's when the movie was set to be released. They couldn't very well say Jake died in 2003 when the actual year was 2005. For the sake of this fanfic, though, time can be set back. So, that's what I'm going to do. It works much better for my purposes for the story to start in early 2004.
As she stood near Quinn's doorway with the phone to her ear, Jodie marveled over how easily he switched from one mood to another. When he'd come home, he and Svetlana had been wide-eyed and freaked out over something that had happened at the park. Now, Quinn was lying on his bedroom floor, playing with his dog. Mukluk stood over him while Quinn scratched the pooch behind the ears and rubbed his sides, fluffing up his already puffy fur. Jodie thought it must be her ex's trademark habit of deflecting the truth and going into a state of denial.
"Hey, Mukkie. Hey you old shoe," Quinn said in a cutesy voice. "Are you a good dog? Hm? You a good doggie?"
Mukluk responded by licking his face.
Jodie, shaking her head, went back to her telephone call. "How can Quinn and Svet be having these awful nightmares and you get nothing, Mom?"
Jolene had taken a few minutes away from her latest patient to take her daughter's call. Timmy Wharton sat in the chair with a look of trepidation on his face, not sure if he liked having his visit delayed or not. After all, it was a dental appointment, and he was only nine. Many would be surprised to know that the trampy blonde in the bar hanging around with all the roughnecks was a dentist Monday through Friday, but everyone had to work somewhere, and some led exciting double lives. "I don't know, sweetie," Jolene replied, giving Timmy a little wave. "I'm telling ya, I haven't had any bad dreams. Tell Quinn he's just a wimp."
Jodie had to snicker. "Alright. Let us know if you have any, okay? And bring the tape back after work today."
"Okay."
"Oh, how did everyone react at the party?"
Now Jolene snickered. "You should have seen their faces when all their cells rang at the same time. Most of them thought it was pretty cool. One chick had Hollister scramble for a blank tape so she could make a copy for her brother. Said her bro was into freaky art films. Ah, Misty and Shannon. You know them, right?"
"Yeah, Misty, the dark-haired girl and her brother with the chick's name."
Snickering again, Jolene said, "Yeah." She saw Timmy looking at her. "Honey, I gotta go. There's a patient waiting for me."
"Don't hurt him too bad, Mom." They both chuckled and said their good-byes. Jodie looked at Quinn, then Svetlana, who was sitting at the desk in front of his computer. "No bad dreams."
Slumping, Svetlana wondered, "How can that be?"
"You're both wimps," Jodie answered with a laugh.
After hanging up the phone, Jolene went back to her patient, immediately trying to reassure him. "Hi, Timmy. Remember, you're just here for a checkup and cleaning, okay?" She didn't mention any words like "drill" or "tooth extraction."
Jolene's dental assistant stood by with a small smile on her face.
The boy nodded. "I know, Dr. Searling."
"Okay, then just sit back and relax." She squeezed Timmy's arm lightly. "Now, I'm about to say something very cliche' for a dentist, but it must be said." Jolene grinned. "Open wide."
Jolene saw the boy grin, and then he opened his mouth. But she no longer saw him after that. Instead, she saw the human-like creature from the video, its intestines being pulled from its open mouth. In fact, her dental assistant was holding the intestines, doing the pulling. Jolene let out a disgusted scream and jumped back off her rolling stool. The tray of instruments next to her toppled over, followed by the sounds of many metal items clattering to the tile floor.
"Dr. Searling?" the assistant said, still holding on to the wet string of organs.
Panting, Jolene closed her eyes tightly for several seconds. When she dared to open them again, everything was back to normal, and the assistant and Timmy were looking at her with confusion all over their faces.
"Dr. Searling? Are you okay?" the assistant asked again, now holding an innocent file with Timmy's name on it.
Inside, Jolene thought, "I'm not so sure," but on the outside, she just tried to recover without anyone thinking she had a mental problem. "Uhh... I'm fine. I just thought I saw a bug on the counter over there. But, now I see it's just a paperclip."
Timmy began to laugh. "You're a grownup! Grownups aren't supposed to be afraid of anything."
The assistant laughed along with him, humoring the child. Up until this moment, Jolene had liked to believe she wasn't afraid of anything, but now...
Across town, in Quinn's room, Svetlana turned back to the computer. "Did your mother remember the address of the website?"
Jodie shook her head. "Google 'cursed tape' or something. We'll find it."
By the time Svetlana found the good stuff, Quinn was off the floor and sitting next to her, reading through the sites too. Jodie stood beside the desk, looking over Svet's shoulder, while Mukluk just sat and watched them all, occasionally trolling for strokes and scritches behind the ears. "Let me get this straight. People watch this tape on purpose to experience the nightmares for themselves, using it in some twisted way to get high?" said Quinn incredulously.
"Looks that way," replied Jodie. "Also looks like some people hallucinate as well, and are able to take freaky pictures of what they see." She glanced at a few photographs in the picture gallery. "Have you guys checked this thing yet, about being marked in pictures?"
Quinn and Svetlana looked at each other before he grabbed the digital camera off the bedside table and handed it to Jodie. "Scan the last few pics."
She did. Jodie's brow furrowed deeply. "What the hell is going on here?"
The two sitting in front of the computer had no answer. Quinn pointed at one of the pictures that had been uploaded by a visitor to the message board. "Am I understanding this correctly? These people claim to have hallucinated these things, and taken pictures of them?"
"Yup," replied Jodie. "That's what it says right here." She pointed to it on the monitor.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You can't take a picture of a hallucination," said Quinn in protest of the claim.
Jodie shrugged. "You can't make people dream the same thing at the same time, either."
"Touché," Svetlana chuckled.
Quinn saw a possible ray of hope in figuring this thing out. "Why don't we put up a post on the message board and see if anyone will answer? After all, they've all watched the tape and gotten through their seven days, right?"
Everyone thought that was a good idea; not like they had any others. Ten minutes after Quinn had posted his plea for information, he received an Instant Message.
Vanessa7days: Who watched the tape?
Quinn looked up when he heard the IM sound, and stopped playing with Mukluk long enough to go back to the computer. Svetlana and Jodie also renewed their attention.
Quinnster65: A bunch of people. Who is this?
Vanessa7days: Vanessa, from Astoria, Oregon. I've seen the tape. What have you seen?
Quinn told her about their nightmares. Does any of this ring a bell? he typed.
There was a pause before Vanessa replied.
Vanessa7days: Which tape did you watch?
The three friends reeled. "Which tape?! Is she kidding?" said Quinn.
"There's more than one?"
Quinn typed Jodie's question.
Vanessa7days: Hell yes. Do you know which tape?
Quinn gave it some thought, and replied, We don't know. Is the blond guy in the second dream at all familiar?
Vanessa7days: I don't know, I'd have to see him.
Turning to Svet, Quinn said, "I know you haven't done it in a while, but the times I've seen you draw, you were pretty good at it. Especially portraits."
She just shrugged. "And?"
"Can you draw the guy for us? We could scan it."
Svetlana nodded. "I could try."
While she began her pencil drawing of the man with the shotgun, Quinn continued his conversation with Vanessa.
Vanessa7days: You sure there's nothing else about your dreams that could tell me which tape it was?
Vanessa was too excited to think clearly; all she had to do was get Quinn to describe some of the tape's imagery and she'd know which one it was. But she had a live one here! He knew nothing about the videotapes. Nothing. Guaranteed Day 7! Score!
It took several seconds, but Quinn's mind finally clicked into place on the matter. You know how I said my sister was in the dream? She said Samara. That we belonged to Samara now.
Vanessa7days: Oh.
"That's it?" Quinn and Jodie said together.
Quinnster65: That's all you've got to say?
The amount of time it took Vanessa to reply made Quinn uneasy. Like she was choosing her words carefully. What else do you want me to say? she finally answered.
Quinnster65: What's going on here?
Vanessa7days: You'll have to figure it out for yourselves like the rest of us had to.
Quinnster65: You can't even throw us a bone?
He secretly wished he was there with this girl, in person. At least then, Quinn could attempt to charm the information out of her.
She eventually replied.
Vanessa7days: Tell you what. You document the stuff you see, and upload your drawings and pictures to the website, and I'll tell you things that will help you figure it out.
They looked at each other, happy to receive some sort of clue.
Quinnster65: You got it. What can you tell us?
After twenty seconds or so, Vanessa said, Find Samara Morgan.
That they did. Two hours later, Svetlana had finished her drawing and even doodled a couple other faces at the bottom of the page, and they had at least some of their answers. There were several helpful articles, but the most helpful had been written by a reporter at the Seattle Post Intelligencer, who had gotten the exclusive full scoop from another reporter named Rachel Keller. Quinn sensed a real reluctance from this Keller woman to tell the story; she had even left the newspaper and moved somewhere else after the incident in question. But, the bare bones of the story had been told.
Rachel and a friend, a photographer named Noah Clay, had found the body of a child in an old well that was out of use. Samara Morgan. Eight years old when she disappeared, in 1978. Samara's parents had reported her missing, but the whole time, they knew where she was. Samara's remains proved that she had suffered blunt force trauma to the head shortly before she was thrown into the well, where she succumbed at some point after.
Rachel claimed that Anna Morgan, Samara's mother, had attacked Samara, trying to suffocate her with a plastic garbage bag and striking her in the head with a loose stone from the well's rim before tipping her limp body into the darkness of the well. When asked how she knew this, Rachel replied that Richard Morgan, the child's father, had confessed it.
Right before he committed suicide in front of her.
Most of what Rachel had said in that article was true, but this part was a lie. Rachel knew what had happened to Samara because Samara's ghost showed it to her. The part about Richard Morgan was, unfortunately for him, only partially true. He had not confessed anything to Rachel Keller, but he had killed himself in front of her.
Anna Morgan could not pay for her crime because she, too, had committed suicide, in the late 70's. Apparently, her guilt over what she had done to Samara caught up with her.
Do you know what I did to my daughter?
You will.
There was nothing in the article about how Rachel and Noah were tipped off as to the location of the well that held Samara Morgan's body, which was not on Morgan Ranch property. (A rental cabin had been built on top of the well near Shelter Mountain many years ago.) Perhaps Richard Morgan told them. But Quinn and the others thought they knew how.
"It's the tape," Quinn said. His good mood had completely dissolved. He looked quite upset at the realization that this couldn't all be wished away, that something very real had happened to some little girl he didn't even know, and they were now a part of it. The tape was not fictional. It was about an actual murder. And they were dreaming about it. The tape was having physical effects on them, effects that could only be described as supernatural, and they had no idea how to stop it. The safety of denial was partially lost to Quinn now. "The reporter and her friend, they saw the tape. It's all about Samara. Her mom's on it, and a bunch of scenes from her life, and..."
"The place where she die," Svetlana finished.
"Right." Quinn swallowed hard. "They followed the tape to the end. They found Samara. So why is the tape still going around? Whoever made it, don't they know that Samara's been found?"
"I just want to know who made it in the first place," Jodie commented. She had that gleam in her eye, the one that said she was too interested in this to let it go until she got her own questions answered. It was like a good murder mystery. "What were they trying to accomplish? How much did they know? I mean, they had to know how Samara died, and where. So why didn't they tell the cops?"
"I don't know, but... maybe he does." Quinn pointed to the drawing Svetlana had made of the man with the shotgun. "He seemed to be trying to protect us from the girl in the well. From Samara." Now that he knew her real name, he might as well use it. "He shot her in the face."
Svetlana took her feet off the desk and sat up; she'd gotten comfortable while drawing. "About that - why he shoot her? This girl, she's a ghost, right? I mean, she's been dead for more than 25 years. How do you shoot a ghost in the face?"
No one had an answer. "Let's scan this drawing and send it to the message board. Maybe someone there will recognize him."
Once Quinn had started scanning the image, Svetlana pointed to the doodles at the bottom of the page. "Crop those out, okay?"
Quinn glanced at the scanned image, and at the faces at the bottom. The expression on his face was unreadable. "Of course."
Jodie leaned over Quinn's shoulder to better examine the drawing he was scanning. "Woo, damn, Svetlana, either you're an incredible artist or that guy you two saw in your dream is smoking hot."
Svetlana had to grin. "Yeah. Whoever he is, he's pretty good looking. He can save me anytime."
"I hope once I watch the tape that I dream about him too," Jodie added. "And you know what kind of dreams I mean..."
The two girls shared a laugh. Quinn's expression became troubled at the thought of Jodie watching the tape. After the dreams he'd experienced, he wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to see it.
Quinn uploaded the image to his Photobucket account and then posted it on the message board, asking people whether or not they recognized the guy. No one seemed to know him, although one girl thought he was as cute as some actor who had been on the show Dark Angel.
"Why you not just go round?" Svetlana cryptically asked. She had put her feet up on the desk again and resumed drawing.
"Huh?"
"In the dream. The guy told you to arm yourself, and you saw the other gun and lean over the well to grab it. Why didn't you just walk round to that side of the well?"
Quinn looked frustrated. "It was a dream, Svetlana."
"So?"
"So you can control everything that happens in your dreams?"
She thought about it. "I guess not..."
"You don't ever do anything stupid in dreams, like run right through the quicksand while the aliens are chasing you?" Quinn continued with some annoyance.
"I don't know, I guess I do."
"You have nightmares about aliens?" Jodie asked.
"Sometimes. I don't know. What are you guys getting on my case for? It was a freakin' dream."
"There was no way you were ever going to be able to reach the gun that way," Svetlana teasingly pressed, knowing she was just making him mad.
"Svet..."
"You just make it easy for Samara to grab you."
Quinn instinctively touched his wrist. "Yeah, yeah."
Seeing something, Jodie reached over and pushed up Quinn's sleeve. He didn't expect her to do that, and looked at her in surprise. "Quinn... what the fuck is this? The ghost touched you, and it left a mark?"
All he could do was nod.
"You didn't tell me that." Jodie wasn't sure if she should be excited or scared by the mark. On one hand, it was so cool, like some effects-laden horror movie. On the other, Quinn had a handprint burned into his arm!
Quinn grabbed a bandanna from his closet and began to tie it around his wrist to hide the mark. When he sat back down, he received another IM from Vanessa.
Vanessa7days: I don't recognize the guy. But wow, hot!
Svetlana and Jodie exchanged amused looks.
Vanessa7days: Just keep posting your pics to the message board, okay? I'm sure someone will figure out who the guy is before the week is up.
Quinn typed back a question with a little bit of a shake in his hands.
Quinnster65: Vanessa, what happens at the end of seven days?
Vanessa7days: Did you find Samara?
Looking at Svetlana, then back at the computer screen, Quinn typed, Yes, we found her.
Vanessa7days: At the end of seven days, Samara finds you.
it won't stop
She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 6: The Works
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 6 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 2,660
Summary: Vanessa discusses her plans for Quinn and the others with a reluctant accomplice. Jolene returns the tape to Quinn after being chased around by hallucinations caused by Samara.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series. This chapter is especially heavy on the adult language.
Beta Thanks: As always, KaijaWest and Meredevachon rock at the beta'ing!
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #6 Claws and coclaim100 prompt #6 Indifference.
Author's Notes: Vanessa is a character from the short film "Rings," which was used as a promotional bridge between the first movie and the second. The hot blond with the shotgun is Dean Winchester, a character from the show Supernatural.
While Quinn, Svet, and Jodie worked on their search for Samara, Vanessa worked on her own private campaign to find the perfect Day 7. The message board at her website got a lot of anonymous lurkers, but less than twenty regular visitors who did all the talking. She spent the afternoon tracking down as many of these people as possible to give them instructions on how to handle the newbies.
Vanessa7days: They know nothing about the tapes, Vicki. Virtually nothing. Let me handle this, okay? I'll get us a definite Day 7. Probably more than one! Wouldn't that rock?
Sitting in the computer room in her parent's house near Minneapolis, Vicki shifted uneasily in her chair as she thought of what to say next. How much she should challenge Vanessa was a better way to put it. She munched on some Fritos, licked her fingers, wiped them off on her pants, and then began to type.
Antici PationV: How are you going to handle it?
She could tell Vanessa was excited; the reply came back very fast.
Vanessa7days: String them along with just enough information to keep them interested. I won't tell them anything unless they keep uploading stuff to the message board. I want pictures, drawings, descriptions of these fucked up dreams they're having. The Works! They're seeing things no one else has seen before! I mean, some hot guy shoots Samara in the face with a gun? WTF is that?!
Antici PationV: What if things start to get too intense for them? Are you going to let someone get carted off by the men in the white coats, like what happened to Kyle?
Vicki had really liked Kyle. He was nice to her. Always seemed interested in the things she had to say. Vanessa had let things go too far that time.
Vanessa sat at the computer in her bedroom, laughing derisively as she read what Vicki had to say. She shook her head. Stupid, boring little wanna-be still thought that nimrod Kyle liked her, didn't she? Always bringing up that wimp. He couldn't take it. Vanessa could always take it, no matter how many tapes they found. She might've lasted only five days with Samara, but she had gone all seven with Sadako, and would take on any of those evil bitches - bring them all on. Vicki had no idea who she was dealing with. Vanessa knew exactly what that stupid bitch was thinking.
Vanessa7days: What the fuck should I care if any of these idiots get taken away to the loony bin? What were they doing watching some videotape someone stuck in their mailbox? Bunch of dumb fucks if you ask me.
Antici PationV: But we were all curious once. We all watched.
Vanessa7days: Big hairy deal. Only a total wuss would freak out that bad. Forget about fucking Kyle. He just thought he could get in your pants.
"Everyone can tell you're a desperate, lonely little dumbass," Vanessa thought, but didn't type.
Antici PationV: Still, don't be mean. If it seems like these people are losing it, let them off the hook, okay?
Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa pecked furiously at the keyboard.
Vanessa7days: Vicks, don't even think of going behind my back and blabbing all the secrets, you got that? I said I would handle it.
When Vicki read that, her face scrunched up in anger and bottled-up disgust. The way Vanessa manipulated people, and Vicki's own refusal to defy her, made her want to throw up sometimes. Why didn't she just tell that bitch off and leave the message board? Would anyone back her up? Or would she lose the only friends she felt she had? Vicki ate another handful of chips before replying.
Antici PationV: No need to start with the threats, okay? Just... you're going to tell them how to escape the curse before it's too late, right? This guy Quinn said a bunch of people watched the tape. They need time to do what they gotta do to save all those people.
Vanessa7days: No shit, Sherlock. Unbunch thy panties, OK? I. WILL. HANDLE. IT.
But what about that time you said you would 'handle it' with Sherise, and she fucking died, Vanessa? What about that?! Vicki wanted to type. But she didn't. All Vanessa had seemed to care about there was the video Sherise made on Day 6. The poor girl had experienced an entire afternoon of Samara-induced hallucinations, and filmed a good twenty minutes of footage, but Vanessa had thumbed her nose at the girl's mental state. Instead, she had taken great pains to make sure Sherise uploaded all her footage to the website before anything else happened to her. And three hours later, the girl, only fourteen, had stumbled into the street while running from something she saw and was pulverized by an SUV.
But Vicki didn't mention any of that. Instead, she replied, Okay Vanessa. Just make sure you do.
Vanessa, rolling her eyes, typed back, I shouldn't have sent you the picture this Quinn guy sent me of himself. You're all moony over him now, aren't ya?
Vicki blushed. He is kinda cute...
That got an immediate response.
Vanessa7days: DO NOT talk to him. He'll just get everything out of you. I am SERIOUS, Vicki. I want these guys to get to Day 7. It's for the sake of the website, right? We all want the site to be cool.
Yeah, sure. Vicki ate more of her Fritos. Sure, it was about the site.
Antici PationV: Whatever.
*****
The sun started to go down on Boston. Quinn was still at it, sitting at his computer with eyes bleary from staring at the screen. He'd been practically chainsmoking all day. Mukluk lay at his feet, snoozing, and Svetlana had moved to the bed to lie down and draw whatever came into her head. She was on her stomach, pad in front of her, feet crossed and bobbing back and forth as she did a complete character study of the man with the shotgun, drawing his head from all angles and doing a few head-to-toe sketches. After that, she moved on to doodles of horses, a lighthouse, and many, many dark spirals.
Svetlana handed Quinn another sheet of paper with drawings on it. "What do you think?"
He stopped reading long enough to look. "Wow, Svet. You haven't taken up the pencil in so long, I had forgotten how good you were. That looks just like the guy in our dream. Anyone would recognize him if they knew him."
Svetlana shrugged it off, obviously a little shy about her talent.
Jodie entered the room with a plate of sandwiches. For the last few hours, she had been at her classes, and was a little worried about Quinn when he obviously hadn't been to his. "Did you just skip all your classes today, Quinn?" she asked in a bit of a scolding tone.
"Yes, Mother," he replied sarcastically. "Oh, thanks."
As he picked up a sandwich, Mukluk raised his head and whimpered.
"Crap. Is it getting that late? I should feed Mukkie and then take him out for another walk. But this stuff is so interesting. Something really fucked up happened to these people, Jodie." Quinn turned in his swivel chair to face her. "I've gone through some more articles, and I found a bunch on what happened on the Morgan Ranch before Samara was murdered. For years, they suffered some really bizarre hardships, mostly involving the animals. Their horses were committing suicide! They'd just go nuts, break through the fences, and drown themselves in the sea. What the hell would cause a thing like that?" He bit into one of the sandwiches she had made.
Jodie shrugged, handing one to Svetlana. "I'll feed Mukluk, okay? You guys eat up and get ready to go out for a little fresh air. You and the dog have been cooped up too much today." She waved her hand in the general direction of the computer. "You can continue your little cursed tape research when you get back."
Jolene was in a foul mood. Certainly not in the right humor for more hallucinations involving that tape. But it had its claws firmly planted in her flesh, didn't it? Just like what it was doing to Quinn and Svetlana when they were asleep.
Still dressed in her work uniform, Jolene trudged across the parking lot of Quinn and Jodie's apartment building with that damn videotape in her hand. She scowled when she noticed a chair sitting in the middle of the lot. Just a little chair, all by its lonesome. It looked like the chair from the videotape. "Oh, fuck me raw," she mumbled. "Now what?"
Nothing much dramatic happened. The chair just sat there, reminding her, You watched the tape! Only six and a quarter days left! If chairs had eyeballs, it would have been giving her a big hairy one.
As if to make sure she knew this was all a hallucination, a car on its way out of the parking lot drove right through the chair, not even touching it. The car passed through the piece of furniture like it was a ghost.
Jolene made a face to show how tired she had become of this. Jolene Searling did not fucking see things like some alki with the DT's. She stomped past the chair and headed for her daughter's building.
The chair began to spin in the air before her. Jolene veered around it, trying to ignore it. Now, it was in front of her again. As she walked on, the chair followed her, sliding along the pavement with a slow scraping sound. Angry, Jolene stopped and faced the chair. She talked to it like it was a person.
"Stop it!" she yelled, scolding the piece of furniture. "That's enough now. I know you're there, okay? No entiendo?"
The chair did not move. It seemed to stare back.
Satisfied, Jolene continued on. The chair quickly slid around in front of her with a harsh scraaaape.
"Fuck you!" she screamed, and flipped the chair off. Then she attempted to step around it again.
As she did, out of the corner of her eye Jolene saw that the chair was suddenly occupied. The child in the well that Quinn and Svetlana had dreamed about was sitting there, soaking wet, dark hair obscuring her face. She instantly brought her hand up and grabbed Jolene's forearm, squeezing it.
With a yelp, Jolene jumped back, yanking her arm away... from nothing and no one. The chair was gone, as was the child.
But she was left with a red mark on her arm in the shape of a small human hand. "Oh, Jesus-jumpin'-up-and-down-Christ..." Jolene exclaimed under her breath as she rubbed at the burn.
A minute later, she was letting herself in to Quinn and Jodie's apartment.
"Hey Mom!" Jodie said brightly, until she saw her mother's face. "I should tone down the peppy tonight?"
"Get Quinn," Jolene nearly growled.
Jodie didn't ask any questions about what had put her mother in this mood yet. "Okay. You wanna give 'im a root canal? I could hold him down..." She dutifully got Quinn from his room. Svetlana had followed them.
"What's u - "
Jolene threw the videotape at him. He barely caught it. "Take this goddamn motherfuckin' evil tape back, Quinn Kirkland. Do you have any idea the shit I've seen today because of that thing? Damien Thorn cobbled it from the flames of Hell himself. I hope I never do something as stupid as laugh at an urban fucked up legend again and watch some freakin' cursed video like I did with you two chuckleheads." She gestured expressively at Quinn and Svet. "Never making that mistake again. Not even if you tell me it's a porno of Brad Pitt sucking off Kiefer Sutherland will I watch it!"
Jodie had started giggling at the Omen reference and was nearly howling with laughter by the time her mother was done. "I thought you weren't having any bad dreams?"
"Oh, no, I'm not having any bad dreams. No, bad dreams would be a welcome change of pace to the fucked up hallucinations I've been having today. First, one of my patients turns into a hybrid monster with his intestines being pulled from his mouth. Then I see a jar that's supposed to be full of tongue depressors filled with twitching severed fingers instead. The water I ran in the sink to wash my hands was full of blood. And just now, that little girl paid me a visit out in the parking lot. Her chair was literally following me around, and then she grabbed me and left her lovely little handprint on me." Jolene pushed up her sleeve.
Both Jodie and Quinn gasped. He didn't say a word at first, just untied the bandanna and showed her his own mark. "She got me in the park today." They held their forearms against each other and compared the burn-like handprints - the marks were identical in size and shape.
Jolene shook her head. "Quinn, I've never seen anything like this. What the hell is going on?"
"If you want, you can come with us on our walk and we'll tell you everything we know. But first..." Quinn eyed the videotape. "...this fucker's getting smashed."
"No way!" Jodie surprised him and snatched it out of his hand. "I'm watching that fucker."
"Oh, Jodie. No." Jolene shook her head again at her daughter. "Honey, you don't want to experience this shit. Trust me. I know you think you're the big, tough badass with all those gory movies you watch, but you've never seen anything like this. Baby, I've been seeing things all day. As real as anything you see in this room. I don't know what mojo's been done to it, but that tape is some fucked up shit. I'm sorry I ever inflicted it on anybody. All those people at the party would have every right to kick my ass after this. You should not watch that tape. The things you experience aren't at all cool."
"Mom, you don't know the information we found today. There's a whole true story behind this tape. I want to follow it to the end. I want to know who made it," declared Jodie. She had that gleam in her eye again.
"Look, Jolene, we know what we're dealing with because we've seen the tape," began Quinn, "but Jodie hasn't seen it yet. Let's take our walk, and see if we can't convince her that watching it would be a very bad idea." He glared at Jodie. "For her own good."
Jodie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, fine. Try all the convincing you want. But I'm going to watch this motherfucker. After all the cool shit you guys have described, wild horses couldn't drag me from it."
Svetlana let out a loud sigh. "Did you have to mention horses?"
it won't stop
Day 4: Suffer the Nightmare
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 4 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 2,590
Summary: Quinn's dog, Mukluk, senses the curse overshadowing his master. Quinn and Svetlana have another synchronized dream, but this time, they are rescued by a blond stranger.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series.
Beta Thanks: Thanks to KaijaWest and Meredevachon for their betas of this chapter.
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #4 Blood and coclaim100 prompt #4 Sight.
Author's Notes: This chapter is a cross-over with Supernatural (Dean Winchester makes a brief cameo.)
The scene with Janet and Kelsey playing cards is based on true events, hee. My niece and nephew were both under ten and I was teaching them to play poker with "Sailor Moon" cards. We played for candy and pennies. Within an hour, they were both royally kicking my ass at poker. It was a scream. XD
"Purple monkey dishwasher" is a phrase from The Simpsons. The characters were passing a message from person to person, like you'd do in the Telephone game, and as always with Telephone, the message got screwed up by the time it reached the last person. The cryptic phrase "purple monkey dishwasher" got added onto the end of the message.
The next morning, while Quinn brushed his hair in the mirror and Svetlana worked on her make-up, she confronted him about the night before. "Are we ever going to talk about it?"
Quinn didn't immediately get what she meant. "Svet, we were hollering and screaming bloody murder. Jodie had to come check on us. She didn't know we'd both be sitting there naked on the bed with the covers thrown across the room." He moved his head from side to side to narcissistically check his hair from different angles. "I'm sure she's just as embarrassed as you are."
"That's not what I'm talking about," she replied. "I'm talking about us dreaming the same thing. That's really freaky, Quinn."
"I know it is. But what do you want me to do about it?"
Svetlana thought about that for a moment, and finally shook her head. "I don't know, I guess just admit that there's something weird going on here. Stop pretending that Jodie made the video."
"If she didn't make it, then who did?" Satisfied, Quinn put down his brush, turning to her. "Are you ready yet?"
"I don't know, and no." Her tone was irritated. Svetlana didn't like being rushed, and she liked Quinn's stubborn denial even less. "Don't you believe in anything... outworldly?"
Rolling his eyes, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. "I think you mean otherworldly. Svet, we've got to get to my parent's house and pick up my dog before they leave for work, and you're slowing things down by praddling on about cursed videotapes. Okay, Svet, out with it. What's your big theory?"
Not appreciating his tone, Svetlana worked on her make-up and didn't look at him as she spoke. "I'm not sure. But I know that Jodie didn't make that tape. She doesn't have that power."
"Power?"
She glanced at him for only a second before continuing, her words halting and unsure. "The tape, it... it has some sort of... spell on it. After you watch it, you have nightmare. Freaky nightmare, like what happen to us last night."
Quinn just stared at her for a short time before bursting into snickery laughter. "A spell? Svet, are you listening to yourself?"
Svetlana's bottom lip trembled as she tried to finish putting on her mascara. "Don't make fun of me, Quinn Kirkland. Do you have a better explanation?"
"Hey... hey, I'm sorry." He recognized the signs of a girl about to cry. Quinn turned her toward him and wrapped his arms around her hips; she reluctantly allowed him to do it, but didn't look him in the eyes. "Don't cry, okay? I guess I have to admit that I don't fully understand what's going on. But I don't believe in curses or spells. The dream last night... it was just a fluke. The tape freaked us out and..." Even he was running out of words to explain what was happening. "...and we... we just had a nightmare. It won't happen again, so let's just forget it."
Ten minutes later, they were on their way out the door. Jodie busied herself in the kitchen. When she saw Quinn and Svetlana pass by, she hid her face behind the open freezer door and mumbled, "Bye," back to Quinn's call that they were going out. They'd both just been sitting there on the bed, naked as jaybirds! How embarrassing!
Quinn's father was already gone when they arrived, but his mother, Dahlia, was still home, just finishing up her omelette. She smiled at them both and asked them to hurry up and get Mukluk so she could lock up and head off to work.
Mukluk was a seven-year-old Alaskan Malamute, Quinn's pride and joy. He kept him at his parent's house most of the time because a small apartment was no place for such a large, graceful, beautiful dog. The animal needed room to run around in, like the Kirkland's ample yard. Dahlia opened the back door and called, "Mukkie! Daddy's here! Time to go walkies!"
The porch filled with the sound of panting and furry feet bounding into the house as Mukluk ran to the sound of her voice. Quinn stood in the foyer and clapped his hands. "Hey Mukkie! Come 'ere boy." His face shone with a proud, loving smile.
The dog heard and saw his master, steered toward him, and suddenly stopped with a flurry of sliding paws and skittish whimpers. Mukluk looked at Quinn as if he wasn't sure he knew him. He gazed at Dahlia, looked back at Quinn, gave Svetlana a short glance, and then looked to Dahlia again for an explanation with another confused whimper. Everything in the dog's expression said he wasn't sure he should go to Quinn, that he wasn't sure his master was... safe?
Dahlia's brow furrowed. "What's the matter, Mukluk?"
Mukluk whimpered again, looking from one person to another.
"Come on, Mukkie." Quinn, bewildered, clapped his hands again. "You wanna go walkies, huh?"
Dahlia laughed awkwardly, having no clue what could be up with her son's pet. "It hasn't been that long since you've seen Quinn. Maybe you should show him the leash."
Quinn dutifully held up the leash. Trying to help, Svetlana showed Mukluk the frisbee they'd brought. The dog responded favorably, crawling a little closer to them, and whimpered again.
"What's the matter, boy?" asked Quinn.
Mukluk stood up and sniffed at Quinn, his muzzle bobbing up and down. He cocked his head curiously to one side. Master didn't smell quite right.
The dog's eyes skimmed past Svetlana to a corner behind her and Quinn. Instantly, Mukluk went into protective, guarding mode, and began to growl fiercely. The fur on his back stood on end more than usual, his ears pricked up, and his tail stiffened. Everyone backed up a step.
Dahlia saw only an empty corner. "What's up, Mukkie? There's nothing there."
Svetlana realized that she could see something in the spot Mukluk was reacting to, but only out of the corner of her eye. It was a little girl, dark-haired... her hair covering most of her face. At least, that's what it looked like from what she could see of it. It... it was the girl from the videotape...
Svetlana looked over at Quinn. The expression on his face sent chills up her spine. He could see the little girl too. Frightened, but trying to hide it, Quinn turned his head sharply to glare at the corner. Svetlana looked too. When they stared directly at the spot, they couldn't see the child anymore. She just disappeared from view.
Mukluk stopped growling at the corner rather abruptly. He looked at the people around him with confusion, then padded over and nudged Quinn's hand with his muzzle.
Quinn jumped at the unexpected contact. "Uh... hey... hey boy." He crouched down to pet the dog, who no longer seemed so wary of him. Quinn swallowed hard. They all were wondering what had just happened.
Noticing her son's pallor and shocked eyes, Dahlia ran a hand over his head and asked, "You okay, Quinn?"
He tried to shake it off. "Yeah, I'm just wondering what was up with Mukkie." Quinn put on a smile he didn't feel.
On their way out of the house, Svetlana looked at him with a drawn mouth and uneasy eyes. "Did you see that little girl?"
"Of course I saw her; couldn't you tell?" Quinn replied a little shortly.
"She's watching us..." Svetlana almost whispered.
With a loud swallow, he snapped back, "Quit it."
By the time they got to the park, they were feeling a bit more relaxed, ready for some leisurely play with Quinn's dog. They played a little frisbee catch, each of them racing Mukluk for it just for fun.
"I'm going to get it before you!" Quinn cried as he ran for the frisbee. The Malamute ecstatically raced next to his master and barked with glee, tongue lolling out to the side. He beat the dog by a hair, got down on all fours, and took the frisbee in his mouth, growling comically. "Rrrr, rrrr, mine, mine!"
Svetlana laughed and watched Mukluk try to get it from him. "You realize that have doggie drool on it?"
Not having thought of that, Quinn made a surprised, funny face and instantly spit out the frisbee with a disgusted, "Puh!"
After another twenty minutes of play and a long drink from the water fountain for all of them (the frisbee used as a water dish for Mukluk), they spent some time lying in the grass and staring up at the sky, a favorite thing of Quinn's to do on a lazy mid-morning. "Isn't it a beautiful day? How could anybody have a problem on a day like today?" he asked, looking up at the swaying tree branches above them.
The night before, they'd been up extremely late, and suffered the nightmare. The lost sleep caught up with them for several minutes while lying there in the grass. First Quinn, then Svetlana, fell asleep. Even Mukluk yawned as he lay down next to his snoozing master.
Quinn approached a table where his older sister, Janet, and her two-year-old daughter, Kelsey, were sitting. Janet was shuffling a deck of cards quite rapidly. Both she and Kelsey were clothed in a predominance of dressy black, for some reason. Janet had her dark hair pulled back on the sides, and had done the same to Kelsey's light brown hair, tying it back with a big bow. Kelsey's little legs, sheathed in white tights, bobbled back and forth under the table. "Hey Quinnster. Did you come to play?" Janet asked.
He smiled. "You know I'm always up for a game. What are we playing for, pennies or candy?"
Kelsey said brightly, "Mommy's teaching me to play poker!"
Quinn tried to sit down, but Janet put her foot against his chair and shoved it away from him. "You can't play right now."
Taking it as a typical older sister joke, Quinn scowled at her and said, "Why not?"
"Because you haven't done it yet." She started to deal out cards for herself and Kelsey at, again, a rapid pace.
Quinn was, of course, bewildered. "Done what?"
"How should I know, I haven't even seen the tape," she said with a shrug. "Do you remember when we were kids and we'd play Telephone? Everyone would sit in a circle and one person would start out with a phrase that they'd whisper to the next person, and the phrase would go around the group until it came back to the person who first said it? This is like that, except there are tons of circles that branch out until you can't find the origin anymore. It never ends, Quinn. It just goes on and on." She pointed out a set of nearby balcony doors, as if to say he should go there.
"Telephone! I like that game. Purple monkey dishwasher!" Kelsey giggled.
Quinn left them with the sound of Kelsey giggling in his ears, heading toward those open french doors. They did not open onto a balcony, but onto the clearing, the clearing with the well. Here he was again. Somehow, he always ended up back here. Quinn rolled his eyes, throwing up his arms in defeat. "Not this. Hey, why am I dreaming about this stupid well so much? Hello? Creepy floating lady, where are you?"
Svetlana huddled at his side. Where did she come from? "Quinn, it's happening again. How do we make it stop?"
Quinn turned his head and yelped at what he saw. It couldn't have been more unexpected and cryptic to him. He recoiled in surprise to see his own fraternal twin sister Danica floating upright beside the well. Although she should have been standing firmly on the ground, her feet hovered a foot off its surface. Her eyes had become mirrors - no whites, no irises, no pupils, just mirrors that reflected his face. Even stranger, a spiral of fire flowed between various spots on Danica's body, like a living, liquid river of flames. It continued to move as Quinn approached her.
"Danica?! What... what's going on?! What are you doing? And no weird dream talk!"
Danica turned her mirror eyes to him. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I wish I knew enough to save you." Her voice sounded like he had never heard it, all deep and echoing. "I see with new sight, with these eyes, but I can't see the future."
Svetlana looked up at Quinn's sister in awe.
"What's that... that stuff coming out of you?" he asked.
"Serpent fire. What do you think?" she replied sarcastically, as if he should know what that is. Then her face became sad, looking down at him in anguish. "It's all for you, Quinn. You belong to Samara now. The well is her home, and will soon be yours."
In reaction to that statement, Svetlana whimpered and began to weep. "Something bad going to happen to us!"
The next sound that met Quinn's ears sent a chill through him. It sounded like fingernails scratching along the bricks of the well... almost like someone was climbing it with their bare hands. The scratching noise grew suddenly loud, like frantic rats trapped in a wall, coming right at him.
A man Quinn did not recognize ran up next to him. He was quite handsome, with dirty blond hair cropped close to his head and a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. Quinn barely had time to register that the man was wearing some sort of golden, horned amulet around his neck. "If you're going to be here, at least arm yourself!" the man shouted.
Quinn looked around. "Arm myself with - " Before he could finish the question, he saw another shotgun sitting on the rim of the well, on the opposite side from where he stood. Quinn turned to get it, and suddenly, the scratching sound coming from within the well stopped.
Very slowly and carefully, Quinn placed his hand on the rim of the well and reached for the gun on the other side... when the ice cold, wet, grey hand of someone who had drowned long ago came up from within the darkness and clamped down on his wrist.
Quinn had barely even gasped and begun to recoil when the unknown male cried, "Watch it!" and shoved his gun into the well, aiming right for the person's face. The blast of the shotgun still rang in Quinn's ears when he came awake a moment later.
"YAH!!" He awakened in the park with a great start, his entire body jerking. Mukluk yelped and began to get up on his paws, as his master had startled him too. He blinked several times before looking over at Svetlana. "Did we fall asleep?"
Svetlana was just waking up; her eyes filled with tears. "Quinn, I don't like these dreams. I want them to go away."
"Hey, shhhhh..." He gave her a brief hug. "Okay, maybe the dreams aren't going to stop. We need to go back to my apartment and... we'll research this thing on the Internet. Jolene said there was a website, right?"
Svetlana nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She pointed at Quinn's face just as he started to feel the warm fluid running to his lip. "Quinn, your nose is bleeding."
He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. Yup, bleeding all right. "Have you got any tissues?" While she looked in her purse, Quinn went to check his watch. "How long have we been asleep?"
His eyes opened wide in shock as he pushed up his sleeve to reveal the mark of a hand burned into his skin.
it won't stop
She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 5: Finding Out
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 5 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 3,474
Summary: Quinn, Svet, and Jodie use the Internet to find out more about the videotape. They stumble upon someone very familiar with it: Vanessa. Unfortunately for Jolene, she begins experiencing the effects of the tape also in the form of hallucinations.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series.
Beta Thanks: Thanks, as always, to KaijaWest and Meredevachon for putting up with me.
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #5 Lost Haven and coclaim100 prompt #5 Discussions.
Author's Notes: Vanessa is a character from the short film "Rings," which was used as a promotional bridge between the first movie and the second. The hot blond with the shotgun is Dean Winchester, a character from the show Supernatural. The dream that Quinn describes about running through quicksand to escape aliens is an actual dream that I had once, heheh.
I just wanted to put the note in here that I have made my final decision on the time period of this fanfic - it starts in March 2004. I was having trouble deciding because the movies put The Ring Two as happening six months after The Ring. But then, the promotional website for Ring Two set Jake's death at early 2005. (Jake being the kid who died at the beginning of the movie.) This was just a distortion of the website, done because that's when the movie was set to be released. They couldn't very well say Jake died in 2003 when the actual year was 2005. For the sake of this fanfic, though, time can be set back. So, that's what I'm going to do. It works much better for my purposes for the story to start in early 2004.
As she stood near Quinn's doorway with the phone to her ear, Jodie marveled over how easily he switched from one mood to another. When he'd come home, he and Svetlana had been wide-eyed and freaked out over something that had happened at the park. Now, Quinn was lying on his bedroom floor, playing with his dog. Mukluk stood over him while Quinn scratched the pooch behind the ears and rubbed his sides, fluffing up his already puffy fur. Jodie thought it must be her ex's trademark habit of deflecting the truth and going into a state of denial.
"Hey, Mukkie. Hey you old shoe," Quinn said in a cutesy voice. "Are you a good dog? Hm? You a good doggie?"
Mukluk responded by licking his face.
Jodie, shaking her head, went back to her telephone call. "How can Quinn and Svet be having these awful nightmares and you get nothing, Mom?"
Jolene had taken a few minutes away from her latest patient to take her daughter's call. Timmy Wharton sat in the chair with a look of trepidation on his face, not sure if he liked having his visit delayed or not. After all, it was a dental appointment, and he was only nine. Many would be surprised to know that the trampy blonde in the bar hanging around with all the roughnecks was a dentist Monday through Friday, but everyone had to work somewhere, and some led exciting double lives. "I don't know, sweetie," Jolene replied, giving Timmy a little wave. "I'm telling ya, I haven't had any bad dreams. Tell Quinn he's just a wimp."
Jodie had to snicker. "Alright. Let us know if you have any, okay? And bring the tape back after work today."
"Okay."
"Oh, how did everyone react at the party?"
Now Jolene snickered. "You should have seen their faces when all their cells rang at the same time. Most of them thought it was pretty cool. One chick had Hollister scramble for a blank tape so she could make a copy for her brother. Said her bro was into freaky art films. Ah, Misty and Shannon. You know them, right?"
"Yeah, Misty, the dark-haired girl and her brother with the chick's name."
Snickering again, Jolene said, "Yeah." She saw Timmy looking at her. "Honey, I gotta go. There's a patient waiting for me."
"Don't hurt him too bad, Mom." They both chuckled and said their good-byes. Jodie looked at Quinn, then Svetlana, who was sitting at the desk in front of his computer. "No bad dreams."
Slumping, Svetlana wondered, "How can that be?"
"You're both wimps," Jodie answered with a laugh.
After hanging up the phone, Jolene went back to her patient, immediately trying to reassure him. "Hi, Timmy. Remember, you're just here for a checkup and cleaning, okay?" She didn't mention any words like "drill" or "tooth extraction."
Jolene's dental assistant stood by with a small smile on her face.
The boy nodded. "I know, Dr. Searling."
"Okay, then just sit back and relax." She squeezed Timmy's arm lightly. "Now, I'm about to say something very cliche' for a dentist, but it must be said." Jolene grinned. "Open wide."
Jolene saw the boy grin, and then he opened his mouth. But she no longer saw him after that. Instead, she saw the human-like creature from the video, its intestines being pulled from its open mouth. In fact, her dental assistant was holding the intestines, doing the pulling. Jolene let out a disgusted scream and jumped back off her rolling stool. The tray of instruments next to her toppled over, followed by the sounds of many metal items clattering to the tile floor.
"Dr. Searling?" the assistant said, still holding on to the wet string of organs.
Panting, Jolene closed her eyes tightly for several seconds. When she dared to open them again, everything was back to normal, and the assistant and Timmy were looking at her with confusion all over their faces.
"Dr. Searling? Are you okay?" the assistant asked again, now holding an innocent file with Timmy's name on it.
Inside, Jolene thought, "I'm not so sure," but on the outside, she just tried to recover without anyone thinking she had a mental problem. "Uhh... I'm fine. I just thought I saw a bug on the counter over there. But, now I see it's just a paperclip."
Timmy began to laugh. "You're a grownup! Grownups aren't supposed to be afraid of anything."
The assistant laughed along with him, humoring the child. Up until this moment, Jolene had liked to believe she wasn't afraid of anything, but now...
Across town, in Quinn's room, Svetlana turned back to the computer. "Did your mother remember the address of the website?"
Jodie shook her head. "Google 'cursed tape' or something. We'll find it."
By the time Svetlana found the good stuff, Quinn was off the floor and sitting next to her, reading through the sites too. Jodie stood beside the desk, looking over Svet's shoulder, while Mukluk just sat and watched them all, occasionally trolling for strokes and scritches behind the ears. "Let me get this straight. People watch this tape on purpose to experience the nightmares for themselves, using it in some twisted way to get high?" said Quinn incredulously.
"Looks that way," replied Jodie. "Also looks like some people hallucinate as well, and are able to take freaky pictures of what they see." She glanced at a few photographs in the picture gallery. "Have you guys checked this thing yet, about being marked in pictures?"
Quinn and Svetlana looked at each other before he grabbed the digital camera off the bedside table and handed it to Jodie. "Scan the last few pics."
She did. Jodie's brow furrowed deeply. "What the hell is going on here?"
The two sitting in front of the computer had no answer. Quinn pointed at one of the pictures that had been uploaded by a visitor to the message board. "Am I understanding this correctly? These people claim to have hallucinated these things, and taken pictures of them?"
"Yup," replied Jodie. "That's what it says right here." She pointed to it on the monitor.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You can't take a picture of a hallucination," said Quinn in protest of the claim.
Jodie shrugged. "You can't make people dream the same thing at the same time, either."
"Touché," Svetlana chuckled.
Quinn saw a possible ray of hope in figuring this thing out. "Why don't we put up a post on the message board and see if anyone will answer? After all, they've all watched the tape and gotten through their seven days, right?"
Everyone thought that was a good idea; not like they had any others. Ten minutes after Quinn had posted his plea for information, he received an Instant Message.
Vanessa7days: Who watched the tape?
Quinn looked up when he heard the IM sound, and stopped playing with Mukluk long enough to go back to the computer. Svetlana and Jodie also renewed their attention.
Quinnster65: A bunch of people. Who is this?
Vanessa7days: Vanessa, from Astoria, Oregon. I've seen the tape. What have you seen?
Quinn told her about their nightmares. Does any of this ring a bell? he typed.
There was a pause before Vanessa replied.
Vanessa7days: Which tape did you watch?
The three friends reeled. "Which tape?! Is she kidding?" said Quinn.
"There's more than one?"
Quinn typed Jodie's question.
Vanessa7days: Hell yes. Do you know which tape?
Quinn gave it some thought, and replied, We don't know. Is the blond guy in the second dream at all familiar?
Vanessa7days: I don't know, I'd have to see him.
Turning to Svet, Quinn said, "I know you haven't done it in a while, but the times I've seen you draw, you were pretty good at it. Especially portraits."
She just shrugged. "And?"
"Can you draw the guy for us? We could scan it."
Svetlana nodded. "I could try."
While she began her pencil drawing of the man with the shotgun, Quinn continued his conversation with Vanessa.
Vanessa7days: You sure there's nothing else about your dreams that could tell me which tape it was?
Vanessa was too excited to think clearly; all she had to do was get Quinn to describe some of the tape's imagery and she'd know which one it was. But she had a live one here! He knew nothing about the videotapes. Nothing. Guaranteed Day 7! Score!
It took several seconds, but Quinn's mind finally clicked into place on the matter. You know how I said my sister was in the dream? She said Samara. That we belonged to Samara now.
Vanessa7days: Oh.
"That's it?" Quinn and Jodie said together.
Quinnster65: That's all you've got to say?
The amount of time it took Vanessa to reply made Quinn uneasy. Like she was choosing her words carefully. What else do you want me to say? she finally answered.
Quinnster65: What's going on here?
Vanessa7days: You'll have to figure it out for yourselves like the rest of us had to.
Quinnster65: You can't even throw us a bone?
He secretly wished he was there with this girl, in person. At least then, Quinn could attempt to charm the information out of her.
She eventually replied.
Vanessa7days: Tell you what. You document the stuff you see, and upload your drawings and pictures to the website, and I'll tell you things that will help you figure it out.
They looked at each other, happy to receive some sort of clue.
Quinnster65: You got it. What can you tell us?
After twenty seconds or so, Vanessa said, Find Samara Morgan.
That they did. Two hours later, Svetlana had finished her drawing and even doodled a couple other faces at the bottom of the page, and they had at least some of their answers. There were several helpful articles, but the most helpful had been written by a reporter at the Seattle Post Intelligencer, who had gotten the exclusive full scoop from another reporter named Rachel Keller. Quinn sensed a real reluctance from this Keller woman to tell the story; she had even left the newspaper and moved somewhere else after the incident in question. But, the bare bones of the story had been told.
Rachel and a friend, a photographer named Noah Clay, had found the body of a child in an old well that was out of use. Samara Morgan. Eight years old when she disappeared, in 1978. Samara's parents had reported her missing, but the whole time, they knew where she was. Samara's remains proved that she had suffered blunt force trauma to the head shortly before she was thrown into the well, where she succumbed at some point after.
Rachel claimed that Anna Morgan, Samara's mother, had attacked Samara, trying to suffocate her with a plastic garbage bag and striking her in the head with a loose stone from the well's rim before tipping her limp body into the darkness of the well. When asked how she knew this, Rachel replied that Richard Morgan, the child's father, had confessed it.
Right before he committed suicide in front of her.
Most of what Rachel had said in that article was true, but this part was a lie. Rachel knew what had happened to Samara because Samara's ghost showed it to her. The part about Richard Morgan was, unfortunately for him, only partially true. He had not confessed anything to Rachel Keller, but he had killed himself in front of her.
Anna Morgan could not pay for her crime because she, too, had committed suicide, in the late 70's. Apparently, her guilt over what she had done to Samara caught up with her.
Do you know what I did to my daughter?
You will.
There was nothing in the article about how Rachel and Noah were tipped off as to the location of the well that held Samara Morgan's body, which was not on Morgan Ranch property. (A rental cabin had been built on top of the well near Shelter Mountain many years ago.) Perhaps Richard Morgan told them. But Quinn and the others thought they knew how.
"It's the tape," Quinn said. His good mood had completely dissolved. He looked quite upset at the realization that this couldn't all be wished away, that something very real had happened to some little girl he didn't even know, and they were now a part of it. The tape was not fictional. It was about an actual murder. And they were dreaming about it. The tape was having physical effects on them, effects that could only be described as supernatural, and they had no idea how to stop it. The safety of denial was partially lost to Quinn now. "The reporter and her friend, they saw the tape. It's all about Samara. Her mom's on it, and a bunch of scenes from her life, and..."
"The place where she die," Svetlana finished.
"Right." Quinn swallowed hard. "They followed the tape to the end. They found Samara. So why is the tape still going around? Whoever made it, don't they know that Samara's been found?"
"I just want to know who made it in the first place," Jodie commented. She had that gleam in her eye, the one that said she was too interested in this to let it go until she got her own questions answered. It was like a good murder mystery. "What were they trying to accomplish? How much did they know? I mean, they had to know how Samara died, and where. So why didn't they tell the cops?"
"I don't know, but... maybe he does." Quinn pointed to the drawing Svetlana had made of the man with the shotgun. "He seemed to be trying to protect us from the girl in the well. From Samara." Now that he knew her real name, he might as well use it. "He shot her in the face."
Svetlana took her feet off the desk and sat up; she'd gotten comfortable while drawing. "About that - why he shoot her? This girl, she's a ghost, right? I mean, she's been dead for more than 25 years. How do you shoot a ghost in the face?"
No one had an answer. "Let's scan this drawing and send it to the message board. Maybe someone there will recognize him."
Once Quinn had started scanning the image, Svetlana pointed to the doodles at the bottom of the page. "Crop those out, okay?"
Quinn glanced at the scanned image, and at the faces at the bottom. The expression on his face was unreadable. "Of course."
Jodie leaned over Quinn's shoulder to better examine the drawing he was scanning. "Woo, damn, Svetlana, either you're an incredible artist or that guy you two saw in your dream is smoking hot."
Svetlana had to grin. "Yeah. Whoever he is, he's pretty good looking. He can save me anytime."
"I hope once I watch the tape that I dream about him too," Jodie added. "And you know what kind of dreams I mean..."
The two girls shared a laugh. Quinn's expression became troubled at the thought of Jodie watching the tape. After the dreams he'd experienced, he wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to see it.
Quinn uploaded the image to his Photobucket account and then posted it on the message board, asking people whether or not they recognized the guy. No one seemed to know him, although one girl thought he was as cute as some actor who had been on the show Dark Angel.
"Why you not just go round?" Svetlana cryptically asked. She had put her feet up on the desk again and resumed drawing.
"Huh?"
"In the dream. The guy told you to arm yourself, and you saw the other gun and lean over the well to grab it. Why didn't you just walk round to that side of the well?"
Quinn looked frustrated. "It was a dream, Svetlana."
"So?"
"So you can control everything that happens in your dreams?"
She thought about it. "I guess not..."
"You don't ever do anything stupid in dreams, like run right through the quicksand while the aliens are chasing you?" Quinn continued with some annoyance.
"I don't know, I guess I do."
"You have nightmares about aliens?" Jodie asked.
"Sometimes. I don't know. What are you guys getting on my case for? It was a freakin' dream."
"There was no way you were ever going to be able to reach the gun that way," Svetlana teasingly pressed, knowing she was just making him mad.
"Svet..."
"You just make it easy for Samara to grab you."
Quinn instinctively touched his wrist. "Yeah, yeah."
Seeing something, Jodie reached over and pushed up Quinn's sleeve. He didn't expect her to do that, and looked at her in surprise. "Quinn... what the fuck is this? The ghost touched you, and it left a mark?"
All he could do was nod.
"You didn't tell me that." Jodie wasn't sure if she should be excited or scared by the mark. On one hand, it was so cool, like some effects-laden horror movie. On the other, Quinn had a handprint burned into his arm!
Quinn grabbed a bandanna from his closet and began to tie it around his wrist to hide the mark. When he sat back down, he received another IM from Vanessa.
Vanessa7days: I don't recognize the guy. But wow, hot!
Svetlana and Jodie exchanged amused looks.
Vanessa7days: Just keep posting your pics to the message board, okay? I'm sure someone will figure out who the guy is before the week is up.
Quinn typed back a question with a little bit of a shake in his hands.
Quinnster65: Vanessa, what happens at the end of seven days?
Vanessa7days: Did you find Samara?
Looking at Svetlana, then back at the computer screen, Quinn typed, Yes, we found her.
Vanessa7days: At the end of seven days, Samara finds you.
it won't stop
She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 6: The Works
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)
Chapters: 6 of 100
Rating: PG-13 (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 2,660
Summary: Vanessa discusses her plans for Quinn and the others with a reluctant accomplice. Jolene returns the tape to Quinn after being chased around by hallucinations caused by Samara.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series. This chapter is especially heavy on the adult language.
Beta Thanks: As always, KaijaWest and Meredevachon rock at the beta'ing!
Fanfic Challenges: Fits 50_darkfics prompt #6 Claws and coclaim100 prompt #6 Indifference.
Author's Notes: Vanessa is a character from the short film "Rings," which was used as a promotional bridge between the first movie and the second. The hot blond with the shotgun is Dean Winchester, a character from the show Supernatural.
While Quinn, Svet, and Jodie worked on their search for Samara, Vanessa worked on her own private campaign to find the perfect Day 7. The message board at her website got a lot of anonymous lurkers, but less than twenty regular visitors who did all the talking. She spent the afternoon tracking down as many of these people as possible to give them instructions on how to handle the newbies.
Vanessa7days: They know nothing about the tapes, Vicki. Virtually nothing. Let me handle this, okay? I'll get us a definite Day 7. Probably more than one! Wouldn't that rock?
Sitting in the computer room in her parent's house near Minneapolis, Vicki shifted uneasily in her chair as she thought of what to say next. How much she should challenge Vanessa was a better way to put it. She munched on some Fritos, licked her fingers, wiped them off on her pants, and then began to type.
Antici PationV: How are you going to handle it?
She could tell Vanessa was excited; the reply came back very fast.
Vanessa7days: String them along with just enough information to keep them interested. I won't tell them anything unless they keep uploading stuff to the message board. I want pictures, drawings, descriptions of these fucked up dreams they're having. The Works! They're seeing things no one else has seen before! I mean, some hot guy shoots Samara in the face with a gun? WTF is that?!
Antici PationV: What if things start to get too intense for them? Are you going to let someone get carted off by the men in the white coats, like what happened to Kyle?
Vicki had really liked Kyle. He was nice to her. Always seemed interested in the things she had to say. Vanessa had let things go too far that time.
Vanessa sat at the computer in her bedroom, laughing derisively as she read what Vicki had to say. She shook her head. Stupid, boring little wanna-be still thought that nimrod Kyle liked her, didn't she? Always bringing up that wimp. He couldn't take it. Vanessa could always take it, no matter how many tapes they found. She might've lasted only five days with Samara, but she had gone all seven with Sadako, and would take on any of those evil bitches - bring them all on. Vicki had no idea who she was dealing with. Vanessa knew exactly what that stupid bitch was thinking.
Vanessa7days: What the fuck should I care if any of these idiots get taken away to the loony bin? What were they doing watching some videotape someone stuck in their mailbox? Bunch of dumb fucks if you ask me.
Antici PationV: But we were all curious once. We all watched.
Vanessa7days: Big hairy deal. Only a total wuss would freak out that bad. Forget about fucking Kyle. He just thought he could get in your pants.
"Everyone can tell you're a desperate, lonely little dumbass," Vanessa thought, but didn't type.
Antici PationV: Still, don't be mean. If it seems like these people are losing it, let them off the hook, okay?
Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa pecked furiously at the keyboard.
Vanessa7days: Vicks, don't even think of going behind my back and blabbing all the secrets, you got that? I said I would handle it.
When Vicki read that, her face scrunched up in anger and bottled-up disgust. The way Vanessa manipulated people, and Vicki's own refusal to defy her, made her want to throw up sometimes. Why didn't she just tell that bitch off and leave the message board? Would anyone back her up? Or would she lose the only friends she felt she had? Vicki ate another handful of chips before replying.
Antici PationV: No need to start with the threats, okay? Just... you're going to tell them how to escape the curse before it's too late, right? This guy Quinn said a bunch of people watched the tape. They need time to do what they gotta do to save all those people.
Vanessa7days: No shit, Sherlock. Unbunch thy panties, OK? I. WILL. HANDLE. IT.
But what about that time you said you would 'handle it' with Sherise, and she fucking died, Vanessa? What about that?! Vicki wanted to type. But she didn't. All Vanessa had seemed to care about there was the video Sherise made on Day 6. The poor girl had experienced an entire afternoon of Samara-induced hallucinations, and filmed a good twenty minutes of footage, but Vanessa had thumbed her nose at the girl's mental state. Instead, she had taken great pains to make sure Sherise uploaded all her footage to the website before anything else happened to her. And three hours later, the girl, only fourteen, had stumbled into the street while running from something she saw and was pulverized by an SUV.
But Vicki didn't mention any of that. Instead, she replied, Okay Vanessa. Just make sure you do.
Vanessa, rolling her eyes, typed back, I shouldn't have sent you the picture this Quinn guy sent me of himself. You're all moony over him now, aren't ya?
Vicki blushed. He is kinda cute...
That got an immediate response.
Vanessa7days: DO NOT talk to him. He'll just get everything out of you. I am SERIOUS, Vicki. I want these guys to get to Day 7. It's for the sake of the website, right? We all want the site to be cool.
Yeah, sure. Vicki ate more of her Fritos. Sure, it was about the site.
Antici PationV: Whatever.
*****
The sun started to go down on Boston. Quinn was still at it, sitting at his computer with eyes bleary from staring at the screen. He'd been practically chainsmoking all day. Mukluk lay at his feet, snoozing, and Svetlana had moved to the bed to lie down and draw whatever came into her head. She was on her stomach, pad in front of her, feet crossed and bobbing back and forth as she did a complete character study of the man with the shotgun, drawing his head from all angles and doing a few head-to-toe sketches. After that, she moved on to doodles of horses, a lighthouse, and many, many dark spirals.
Svetlana handed Quinn another sheet of paper with drawings on it. "What do you think?"
He stopped reading long enough to look. "Wow, Svet. You haven't taken up the pencil in so long, I had forgotten how good you were. That looks just like the guy in our dream. Anyone would recognize him if they knew him."
Svetlana shrugged it off, obviously a little shy about her talent.
Jodie entered the room with a plate of sandwiches. For the last few hours, she had been at her classes, and was a little worried about Quinn when he obviously hadn't been to his. "Did you just skip all your classes today, Quinn?" she asked in a bit of a scolding tone.
"Yes, Mother," he replied sarcastically. "Oh, thanks."
As he picked up a sandwich, Mukluk raised his head and whimpered.
"Crap. Is it getting that late? I should feed Mukkie and then take him out for another walk. But this stuff is so interesting. Something really fucked up happened to these people, Jodie." Quinn turned in his swivel chair to face her. "I've gone through some more articles, and I found a bunch on what happened on the Morgan Ranch before Samara was murdered. For years, they suffered some really bizarre hardships, mostly involving the animals. Their horses were committing suicide! They'd just go nuts, break through the fences, and drown themselves in the sea. What the hell would cause a thing like that?" He bit into one of the sandwiches she had made.
Jodie shrugged, handing one to Svetlana. "I'll feed Mukluk, okay? You guys eat up and get ready to go out for a little fresh air. You and the dog have been cooped up too much today." She waved her hand in the general direction of the computer. "You can continue your little cursed tape research when you get back."
Jolene was in a foul mood. Certainly not in the right humor for more hallucinations involving that tape. But it had its claws firmly planted in her flesh, didn't it? Just like what it was doing to Quinn and Svetlana when they were asleep.
Still dressed in her work uniform, Jolene trudged across the parking lot of Quinn and Jodie's apartment building with that damn videotape in her hand. She scowled when she noticed a chair sitting in the middle of the lot. Just a little chair, all by its lonesome. It looked like the chair from the videotape. "Oh, fuck me raw," she mumbled. "Now what?"
Nothing much dramatic happened. The chair just sat there, reminding her, You watched the tape! Only six and a quarter days left! If chairs had eyeballs, it would have been giving her a big hairy one.
As if to make sure she knew this was all a hallucination, a car on its way out of the parking lot drove right through the chair, not even touching it. The car passed through the piece of furniture like it was a ghost.
Jolene made a face to show how tired she had become of this. Jolene Searling did not fucking see things like some alki with the DT's. She stomped past the chair and headed for her daughter's building.
The chair began to spin in the air before her. Jolene veered around it, trying to ignore it. Now, it was in front of her again. As she walked on, the chair followed her, sliding along the pavement with a slow scraping sound. Angry, Jolene stopped and faced the chair. She talked to it like it was a person.
"Stop it!" she yelled, scolding the piece of furniture. "That's enough now. I know you're there, okay? No entiendo?"
The chair did not move. It seemed to stare back.
Satisfied, Jolene continued on. The chair quickly slid around in front of her with a harsh scraaaape.
"Fuck you!" she screamed, and flipped the chair off. Then she attempted to step around it again.
As she did, out of the corner of her eye Jolene saw that the chair was suddenly occupied. The child in the well that Quinn and Svetlana had dreamed about was sitting there, soaking wet, dark hair obscuring her face. She instantly brought her hand up and grabbed Jolene's forearm, squeezing it.
With a yelp, Jolene jumped back, yanking her arm away... from nothing and no one. The chair was gone, as was the child.
But she was left with a red mark on her arm in the shape of a small human hand. "Oh, Jesus-jumpin'-up-and-down-Christ..." Jolene exclaimed under her breath as she rubbed at the burn.
A minute later, she was letting herself in to Quinn and Jodie's apartment.
"Hey Mom!" Jodie said brightly, until she saw her mother's face. "I should tone down the peppy tonight?"
"Get Quinn," Jolene nearly growled.
Jodie didn't ask any questions about what had put her mother in this mood yet. "Okay. You wanna give 'im a root canal? I could hold him down..." She dutifully got Quinn from his room. Svetlana had followed them.
"What's u - "
Jolene threw the videotape at him. He barely caught it. "Take this goddamn motherfuckin' evil tape back, Quinn Kirkland. Do you have any idea the shit I've seen today because of that thing? Damien Thorn cobbled it from the flames of Hell himself. I hope I never do something as stupid as laugh at an urban fucked up legend again and watch some freakin' cursed video like I did with you two chuckleheads." She gestured expressively at Quinn and Svet. "Never making that mistake again. Not even if you tell me it's a porno of Brad Pitt sucking off Kiefer Sutherland will I watch it!"
Jodie had started giggling at the Omen reference and was nearly howling with laughter by the time her mother was done. "I thought you weren't having any bad dreams?"
"Oh, no, I'm not having any bad dreams. No, bad dreams would be a welcome change of pace to the fucked up hallucinations I've been having today. First, one of my patients turns into a hybrid monster with his intestines being pulled from his mouth. Then I see a jar that's supposed to be full of tongue depressors filled with twitching severed fingers instead. The water I ran in the sink to wash my hands was full of blood. And just now, that little girl paid me a visit out in the parking lot. Her chair was literally following me around, and then she grabbed me and left her lovely little handprint on me." Jolene pushed up her sleeve.
Both Jodie and Quinn gasped. He didn't say a word at first, just untied the bandanna and showed her his own mark. "She got me in the park today." They held their forearms against each other and compared the burn-like handprints - the marks were identical in size and shape.
Jolene shook her head. "Quinn, I've never seen anything like this. What the hell is going on?"
"If you want, you can come with us on our walk and we'll tell you everything we know. But first..." Quinn eyed the videotape. "...this fucker's getting smashed."
"No way!" Jodie surprised him and snatched it out of his hand. "I'm watching that fucker."
"Oh, Jodie. No." Jolene shook her head again at her daughter. "Honey, you don't want to experience this shit. Trust me. I know you think you're the big, tough badass with all those gory movies you watch, but you've never seen anything like this. Baby, I've been seeing things all day. As real as anything you see in this room. I don't know what mojo's been done to it, but that tape is some fucked up shit. I'm sorry I ever inflicted it on anybody. All those people at the party would have every right to kick my ass after this. You should not watch that tape. The things you experience aren't at all cool."
"Mom, you don't know the information we found today. There's a whole true story behind this tape. I want to follow it to the end. I want to know who made it," declared Jodie. She had that gleam in her eye again.
"Look, Jolene, we know what we're dealing with because we've seen the tape," began Quinn, "but Jodie hasn't seen it yet. Let's take our walk, and see if we can't convince her that watching it would be a very bad idea." He glared at Jodie. "For her own good."
Jodie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, fine. Try all the convincing you want. But I'm going to watch this motherfucker. After all the cool shit you guys have described, wild horses couldn't drag me from it."
Svetlana let out a loud sigh. "Did you have to mention horses?"
it won't stop