Author Notes: And so the saga comes to an end. I hope everyone has enjoyed this glimpse into my madness.
Jim raised his head and looked down at Karen's unconscious form. "Wow, she's really hurt," he sputtered.
Pam looked back over her shoulder. "Yeah. In the movies the chairs always break." The edge of the seat portion of the chair had blood all over it. Karen's head looked slightly broken. The chair itself was very intact. "Yet another way that TV has mislead us. Damn, that looks painful."
"Speaking of painful, would you mind getting me untied?"
Pam rolled her eyes. "Fine. You're so impatient." She climbed up on the bed over Jim and tried to get a better purchase on the tightly tied ropes. Truth be told, he smelled horrible, having been tied to that bed for God knows how long. Terror sweat becomes rather pungeant after a while.
In her haste, Pam stumbled and ended up tumbling right on top of Jim's chest, nestling herself comfortably between his legs. He gulped.
"I love you, Pam."
"I love you too, Jim." Pam gazed longingly into Jim's eyes, and everything was just right. Except she started noticing a wet trickle down the side of her torso, and Jim suddenly had a look of horror upon his face. "What-?"
Karen somehow had regained consciousness and plunged the knife deep between Pam's ribs. The pain only slowly crept up upon her as Karen twisted the blade into her flesh. She screamed in anguish and rolled herself off the bed. Her blood gushed out of the jagged open wound in her side.
The room was spinning, the blood felt both hot and cold at the same time as it spilled from her body, and she felt her rage boiling as she looked up into Karen's cold, heartless gaze. Pam punched Karen square in the jaw with every last ounce of her fading energy, and was rewarded with a satisfying cracking underneath her fist which sent Karen tumbling to the floor, suitably concussed, limp and motionless. Though victorious, Pam soon joined Karen on the floor.
Pam held her hands to her bloody side, feeling the life slowly drain from her body. She hadn't the strength to stand up, nor to crawl for help, if there was any to be found in the form of a telephone, CB radio, or smoke signals. She was dying. Still, her only regret was not being able to climb up onto the bed to spend her few remaining moments with Jim.
"Jim!" she cried out, blood gurgling in her throat.
"Pam!" he replied, frustratingly immobile on the bed.
"We're both going to die in some crazy woman's cottage and probably no one will find us for weeks." She stared at the log ceiling, not because it was interesting, but because it was either that or the insides of her eyelids. "It's bad enough for me. I'm going to bleed to death in a few minutes. You're going to lay there for days with my decomposing corpse underneath the bed until you die of dehydration."
"Way to be optimistic, Pam," Jim yelled.
"Optimistic? We're doomed!"
"I don't like this ending!"
"As if we'd end the fic like that! 28 Days Later ending!"
Jim kissed Pam softly on the lips at her desk as they settled in for yet another boring workday, yet they were both happy to be there after their near deaths at Karen's hands. "Well, that's enough excitement to last me all week."
"Week?" Pam furled her brow.
He smiled, and her heart went aflutter as it so often did. "Yeah. I'm up for some skydiving next Friday. Or maybe some base jumping. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go write a letter to some shoe designers."
Pam shook her head. It was nice that they were both able to maintain their senses of humor through this terrible ordeal. With a satisfied sigh, she sat down behind her desk. After about half an hour of work (i.e. Sudoku) she noticed that a man had silently approached her.
"Brains," the man said.
Pam pointed back towards Michael's office. "That's nominally Michael, though if you want to speak with someone who's actually smart, try Dwight. He's the one with glasses in the yellow shirt."
The strange man shuffled off, but Pam couldn't help but thinking that he was eerily familiar - and somewhat pungent. Oh well. She went back about her work (Sudoku).
"Hi, Ed! How's it going?" exclaimed Michael in his normally jubilant way.
"Brains..." said Ed Truck.
"That's nice. Hey, wait. Aren't you dead?"
"AAAAaaaahhhhh! HELP ME! For the love of God, Help me! He's biting my ear! Do I look like Evander Holyfield to you?"
Oscar, Phyllis, Dwight, and Andy rushed over to rescue Michael from zombie Ed Truck, but Pam waved them away without looking up from her work (Sudoku). "Ignore him, he just wants attention."
"Hey, that was pretty good. But you know what would be more fun? Stephen King ending!"
Jim's head wobbled as he tried to sit up in bed after Pam had cut him free of the ropes. "I'm so out of it," he mumbled. "She'd been feeding me painkillers and I've been in and out of consciousness for days now."
"Jim, there's something I need to tell you." She patted his thigh with a worried look upon her face.
"What is it Pam?"
"Remember the ending of Misery?"
"Oh God! She broke my feet?"
"Um... You never read the book, did you?"
Tonight Show punchline ending!
"Oh my God! She cut off my foot?"
Pam frowned, so sad. "Well, she cut something off..."
"Why would you think that's a good ending? I hated that last one more than dying a slow, painful death."
"It could have been worse. I could have done this to you..."
As the days and the weeks and the months went by, Jim attempted valiantly to reclaim his life, but his nights were forever plagued by the haunting memories of his experiences - his torture - at Karen's hands. During the day he'd put on a brave face and he'd try - lord, how he tried - to be himself, to love Pam with all his heart, and to be the man everyone expected him to be. But at night...
He couldn't take it. He just couldn't. The knives, the cigarette burns, the scissors, the sexual humiliation. When Pam touched him, it all came flooding back into his mind and he relived the horrors and the haircuts and he felt so dirty and ashamed.
In December of that year he joined the seminary. I think he's doing missionary work in the Congo now.
"Yeah, also not nice," Jim complained. "Here's what I had in mind. It's what I like to call the HBO ending..."
Pam looked critically at Jim's tied up state. "You know, this gives me some ideas..." She smiled wickedly.
And Jim screamed some more.
The prison gates clanged behind her and the guards led Karen into her cell. 10 years, maybe 6 with good behavior. This was going to suck, but it could have been worse. Thank God she wasn't completely heterosexual.
Pam rolled her eyes again. "You're a perve, you know that, right?"
"I am what I am." That was Descartes, actually.
"I don't want to end the fic like that. I want a Mega-happy ending."
"If you think it's for the best."
On wobbly legs, Jim helped Pam carry the unconscious Karen to her little blue Yaris. Karen moaned and mumbled as they stuffed her into the backseat, but they really didn't feel like being gentle, both payback and Pam being bitches and all.
Jim's aching body, well... ached... as he lowered himself gingerly into Pam's car. He could scarcely believe that they had managed to escape from this nightmare alive. His heart was still pounding, his palms were clammy and shaking, and his throat was so dry. Every part of his skin hurt from sound wound or another, yet he was, for the most part, intact. It was some sort of miracle - not from God, but from Pam. What he ever did to deserve such an awesome girlfriend was a mystery to him, but he was and forever would be thankful for her.
He looked adoringly over at Pam as she started the car and they began driving off on the way back to civilization. Pam with her untamable curly indescribably colored hair, bright eyes, her impish smile, full lips covered with two shades of lipstick...
"AAaaaaaauuuunnnnnnghhhhhhhh..." came Karen's anguished wail from the back of the car, shaking Jim back into the moment. He turned his head to see what she was up to back there, which was thankfully little but moaning and slumping across the bench seat. She was a little green. Hopefully she wouldn't throw up in the car.
Jim let himself sink into his seat and watched the trees go by. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked Pam.
"Hmm? Oh, rural Connecticut. We'll be back home in a couple of hours after we drop little miss sleepyhead off at the nearest police station." She took the time to glance his way and smile. Somehow, that little gesture made it all worth it. He reached over and found her hand on the gearshift. He never wanted to let her go again.
"Jim?" His name startled him because it was Karen asking. She was still sprawled and sickly behind them, her eyes barely open.
With Pam by his side, he found it easy to keep the anger out of his voice. "Yes, Karen?"
Karen swallowed. "Do you really love her?"
She closed her eyes and smiled. "That's good. She's something special to charge into danger alone to rescue you. Maybe someday I'll find my own Pam," Karen said, and she was soon passed out and snoring gently.
Pam, for some reason, was giggling like an idiot.
"What?" Jim asked her.
"Nothing. Just reminded me of something. Off topic, what are you going to do about the heart carving?"
Jim shrugged. It was certainly a garish souvenir of their ordeal. What on Earth could be done? Removing it was sure to leave an ugly scar and maybe a skin graft from his backside (and he liked his backside just the way it was - as did Pam). There was only one thing to do. "I think I'll cross out the Karen and replace it with Pam."
And some weeks later, when Jim did indeed have the name in the heart on his chest changed, Pam decided that she liked the feeling of owning Jim. She made sure that they got married by the end of the year.
Dwight was released from the police holding cell the next day, with all charges against him dropped. However, stemming from the experience, Creed's monthly income increased by $20.
Upon her early release from prison due to extensive brain damage, Karen started a relationship with Andy Bernard. She was still the intelligent, sensible one of the pair.
End Notes: I couldn't decide how I wanted to end this story, so I went with the Wayne's World approach!