Wow, I have to admit, I nearly forgot I wrote an alternate ending at all. But thanks to every reviewer who reminded me. Not sure how many of these segments there will be, or whether or not they will cross into the second movie.

In any case, enjoy! Sorry it's so short. By the way, if you haven't read the alternate ending, this story probably won't make much sense.

Trish wondered through the streets, her head down. It had been the third day and she was still just as uneasy and upset as she was the first time. However, she had yet to find a way out of the trap she was in.

I have to keep him alive, no matter what it takes. The first time she went out, she failed to find anyone for the Creeper. As punishment, he cut off one of her brother's fingers. The sight sickened her, to say nothing of his screams.

From the outside, she looked calm, but it was easily seen through if you knew how to look inside. Let's see: my instructions were to bring back a young man, between 20 and 30 years old, has to be healthy. Trish shed a single tear as she reached into her bag. She took out a syringe meant to knock the intended victim unconscious and hid it within her palm.

After a few minutes of wandering around, she walked into a bar, knowing it was the easiest place to find what she was looking for.

"So what can I do for you, Ma'am?" The bartender asked, bringing the barflies' attention to her.

"Do you have some Dr. Pepper in stock?" Trish asked, although she was sorely tempted to drink. She looked him over, analyzing him. He's the right age, but doesn't fit exactly. I can't afford to make a mistake. He nodded and poured her a glass.

"Put it on my tab." A man told him, and turned toward Trish. "What's a sexy lady like you doing here?" His teeth were almost bright yellow, and he smelled like he hadn't bathed for weeks, so Trish did her best to ignore him.

He continued talking but she drowned him out, drinking her Dr. Pepper. She looked around and found someone who fit what the Creeper asked for. She approached the man and smiled. "Hey, handsome, can you give me a hand?"

"Sure, uh…what's your name?" he asked.

"Trish," she replied, figuring it wouldn't hurt to tell him. She smiled and told him to follow.

"So what do you need help with?" he wondered. "Name's Tyler, by the way." He held out his hand for a few seconds before lowering it. "You look troubled; what's wrong?"

"I'm just worried about my brother."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He got into a car accident; he's hurt pretty bad. We think he'll make it, but the doctors aren't sure." Trish really, really hated this job. She glanced at him and felt a certain attraction, making her regret even more what she had to do.

"That's too bad; something similar happened to my brother a couple years back. Me and dad still aren't sure what happened to him."

"Did he recover?"

"Yes and no; don't want to get into it." They walked to the Creeper's truck.

"So is this what you needed help with? At the least, this truck of yours needs a paint job."

"Actually, I didn't need any help, not really. I just brought you here because…" Trish put her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. He kissed back after a momentary hesitation, pushing her against the door. Tyler stopped the kiss, catching his breath and smiling, but before he could say anything, Trish injected him with the compound.

He fell to the ground. Trish opened the door of the truck, and with difficulty, hauled him into the passenger seat. She hopped into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Despite its beat-up appearance, it ran quite well, which made her wonder just how intelligent the Creeper was.

It took about half an hour to get to the factory. She got out, and grabbed him by the arms, straining with his weight. Trish's eyes were glinting with tears, wondering what kind of monster she was starting to become, but nonetheless, she completed her task.

This was the part she dreaded the most. "Okay, I found what you were looking for." The Creeper walked towards her, studying her and Tyler carefully. She was barely able to breathe out of fear.

He simply stood there until he finally said: "Acceptable; dismissed." Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she run to the room where her brother was chained up and hugged him tightly. When she wasn't running "errands" for the Creeper, she spent most of her time with her brother.

"So good to see you; are you all right?" Trish asked.

"Well…I've been better." Darry moaned. The Creeper made sure his wound was not lethal, but even so, he was in an enormous amount of pain. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Trish."

"Look, none of this is your fault. I tried to convince him to take me, but he won't." They heard Tyler's screams echo throughout the factory; Trish broke into full tears.

"None of this is your fault, sis." Darry tried to comfort, his head on her shoulder, trying to help however he could. "That thing is terrible; why is he doing this?"

"I have no idea."

"Look, I can't watch you destroy yourself anymore. Just get the hell out of here; it doesn't matter what happens to me. I'm your brother; I'm supposed to protect you."

"Not a chance in hell; I am going to keep you alive and that is final! I don't care what I have to do." She was unable to continue, curling into a ball as the last of Tyler's screams subsided.

"but you do care, don't you? It's tearing you apart inside, Trish!"

"I know, I know. Even if we get out of this alive, I'm going to have to live with this on my conscience for the rest of my life."

"Look, you want to blame someone, blame him. He's the one forcing you to do this. Look, I saved you some food. You need to eat."

Trish's first instinct was to say no, but her hunger wouldn't let her. She gulped down the food. Ordinarily, she would have simply thrown it away, but due to their current situation, neither of them could afford to be picky. "I wonder what our parents are doing."

"Probably going crazy, wondering what happened to us. Maybe they even think we're dead; not like there's any evidence to the contrary." Both of them stayed silent after that, not knowing what else to say.

I'll get you out of this Darry, somehow. Trish said to herself. Even though the screams were gone, even though neither of them were talking or even moving, one word echoed in her ear.

Murderer!

Hopefully, this will be something resembling an apology. I'll be adding to this story whenever I get a sudden inspiration. However, I'm not sure how often that will be, and I'm not about to lie to you. In any case, I hope you enjoy.