Chapter Nine

Alan wasn't feeling any better. He was completely trapped. He had tried several unsuccesful times to escape from the well, but it was simply impossible. Especially since he seemed to be slowly weakeaning, like Samara was sapping his strength somehow. He didn't feel like he could live for much longer. This was what she felt. He didn't want to think that, because he didn't want to feel sorry for her. She was, after all, the bitch who had trapped him down here, no matter what she'd gone through. But the thought kept nugding at him, trying to make him feel something. It was true, though. This was what she'd felt when she was down here… Then Alan realised something. How did he know that? He hadn't read that, hadn't been told that… How did he know she had been in this well? But she had. There it was in his mind, even though he shouldn't know. Seven days. That was how long it had taken her to die.

Get out of my head!

She had been in pain the whole time, her fingernails had broken off, she'd been cold, so cold…


She'd seen things. Horrible things that would make anyone's hair stand on end and their blood turn to ice…


But none of it would leave. All of it, everything she saw, was going through Alan's head and wouldn't leave him. He screamed, screamed until he lost his voice, but nobody ever heard him. This was hell.

Sam couldn't sleep. He was tossing and turning, trying to close his eyes but he couldn't. He felt like her. Like Samara. Samara, who never slept. He got up out of bed, trying to be as quiet as a mouse. It was quite stange that after all recent events, he wasn't tired at all. His body was very tired, but not his mind. He walked out to the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin. Star was there, just staring at the sink. All thoughts of getting a drink of water evaporated from Sam's mind.

"Star… what are you doing here?"

Star whirled around, her wild hair falling over her face. Sam stumbled back, knocking over a chair and falling onto it. One of it's legs seemed strangely sharp as it dug into his back and he wondered if it was broken. When he looked at Star, he could see her. Samara.

"What are you doing here, Samara?" Sam hissed.

Samara fixed on him with her cold glare. Her eyes bore into him, seeming to see into his soul. It wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. Her head snapped up and Sam felt himself freeze. She didn't say a word, didn't make any threats or insults. She just walked slowly up to Sam and he felt himself become more and more scared. She started walking towards him, her cold expression never moving, never wavering… He stayed, forzen, for a few long minutes that he thought would never end… then he ran like hell. He turned and started running, desperate to escape from her, desperate not to simply become her prisoner again.

"Help! Edgar! Michael! Help!"

No one came for what seemed like longer than it actually was. They did come, eventually, but not until Sam had already outrun the possessed Star and locked himself in his room.

He sat with his back resting against the door, his arms crossed over his knees and his head resting on his right arm. His sleeve felt wet and when he looked, he saw that it was. He'd been crying. He shook his head. Why was he crying? Crying wouldn't fix anything.

"Sam? You okay?" He heard Michael call from just outside his door.

"Uh… yeah, I think so," He said. "I'm not hurt… Star's… She's acting pretty weird. When I looked at her face… it wasn't her face,"

Sam thought Michael was going to say something else, like asking what he might, but instead he heard only silence.

"Michael?" Sam started to feel something strange in his stomach, like there was poison being poured into it. It didn't feel like butterflies at all. Nanook came to sit beside him and Sam buried his hands into the dog's soft, warm fur. It was a comfort to have a companion when nothing made any sense, even if that companion wasn't the same species.

"Michael's okay," Edgar called back. "Just out cold,"

A shiver ran down Sam's spine. What was going on? He wanted to look, but he feared her. Samara terrified him and he didn't want to end up trapped again. What could they do?

Edgar stared Star/Samara right in the eyes. Neither of them blinked. It looked for all the world like a childish staring contest, but it was so much more. At least, Edgar hoped it was more than that.

"Why?" He asked. Samara looked up, her eyes widening a little with surprise. The question had caught her off guard. That was good; it gave Edgar an advantage.

"What do you mean?" She asked in return, possibly trying to avoid the question, probably just having no idea what the hell something so vague was supposed to mean.

"Why are you doing this? Possessing Sam, stealing Alan and now possessing Star? It's not going to help you. I mean, vampires make sense. They need blood, so they drink it. But you? You're just a little kid who's afraid of dying," Edgar knew exactly that second that he'd said something wrong. Samara looked right at him with her soul-piercing gaze and then she lunged at him. The moment her hands touched him, Edgar felt an excrutiating burning in his skin. He thought he'd scream at a pain so undiluted, but only a hoarse whisper would come out of his mouth. He was panicking. What was going to happen? Would she kill him? But then her hands moved away and there was a moment of blessed releif. When he looked up, he saw that she wasn't there at all. At first he felt releif, but then a great annoyance took hold of him as he realised that now they'd lost Star too. First it was Sam, now it was Star… how could they possibly be safe?

Ok, I know this is a very short chapter, but it was the best I could do. I really don't know what'll happen next, but I will finish this. Although I know not many people are reading, I know a few people are, so I have to finish this.