{(Authors Note: This story is written from Henry's point of view. I thought I might just mention that. 83 The endings will be in separate chapters, because, like the game, I want it to have different outcomes... for no specific reason whatsoever. I just thought that it'd be kinda cool. I think I might make a UFO ending too. |3

On the topic of my other stories: I will finish them, sorry I haven't been updating them. I'm so neglectful. D8)}

Nani-Chan

The pressure was too much for me. I began to panic; my arms reached out at the darkness ahead, searching for the non-existant lifeline that I had hoped to find. Eileen was long gone. Something had happened and we were seperated; I don't remember what. I just... looked behind me and she wasn't there. Probably victim of the insane man that was chasing me. And, just my luck, I had given that whiny, clingy whore my pistol a while back so she would stop her screeching in my ear, so all I had left was the rusted and dull pick axe that I could barely lift.

I heard the gate that I had previously run through swing open behind me. Apparently Eileen wasn't enough to satisfy his blood lust. Or, she had gone into hiding and he couldn't find her. Well, I could've hoped that, but as I looked over my shoulder I saw Richards old gun in his hand, blood-stained, aiming for my back; the same gun I had given her.

"Shit!" I screamed and dove clumsily out of the way of the supersonic cartriage that flew by my head. I fell to the ground and scrambled to get up, Walter's insane laughter now filling my ears, the sound growing louder as he stepped ever closer. I finally found my ground, stumbled onto my feet and began to run, leaving that useless weapon behind for him to pick up. Which, of course, he did. Smart.

My lungs were on fire but I couldn't stop to rest; not with him right behind me. Another cartriage was fired off and this one narrowly missed my back, zooming by my arm and tearing my shirt just before I ran though another gate. As I looked around, the smouldering ashes of Walter's old orphanage were freshly burned. I could tell for a fairly-good sized curl of smoke still climbed into the air. And that one guy... Jasper. He was burned here, wasn't he? His corpse was nowhere to be found.

I stood still for a few moments, catching my breath and staring at the gate, making sure that it wasn't going to open. It didn't. At least, not yet. Thank god. So, at this point, I was missing an Eileen -but I didn't really want it anyway-, an already decrepit Jasper body -though, knowing my luck, it had probably come to life by now- and a possible safe haven that was an orphanage, now a pile of crispy wood and scorched remains of ghastly furniture.

Across the yard was another portal to take me home. Honestly, I was extremely tired of crawling endless hours just to get home to a house full of wall ghosts, decapitated heads falling down my window pane and dead cats in my refrigerator, but it was better than having Walter attempting to kill me around every corner. Hell, I wouldn't be suprised if I saw him waiting outside my door when I got there. About halfway to the hole I froze. The sound of the gate slowly swinging open that entered my ears made my heart beat quickly. The sound of it closing made the life giver in my chest thump sporadically. Though against better judgment, I turned to look at the gate; nothing was there. A nervous laugh escaped from inbetween my lips. I had hoped I was going crazy. I really, really did.

Then that's when it hit me. Or, rather, a sharp blow from a pick axe.

00000000filler0000lol0000000walter000000000sullivan00000000

Oh, god, my head hurt. Not just normal pain, oh no, an /intense/, shooting pain on both sides of my skull. My head began to spin when I looked around the room; it looked eerily like mine, from what I could see, though it was in complete disarray. And the walls were an off red, as if they were covered in blood, but, well, I'd kind of gotten used to that look. Eventually, the pain lessened and I could see clearly. I was right; the walls were coated in blood, but there were different shades on different spots. Some of it was new, and some of it was old, as far as I could tell. The dull sunset light from the windows made the room almost glow in a deep red color.

I tried to get up, and I couldn't. My arms were tied up together at the wrists-my shoulders were killing me- and my hands were tied to the bed post with duct tape; there was more of the sticky silver tape on my mouth. Around my torso were ropes securing me further. I guess he didn't want me to leave. My shirt and my pants were missing, leaving me with just my boxers; that made me think for a bit. Either Eileen /had/ escaped, was really horny, and she wanted angry dead-person sex, or Walter wanted my internals and my manhood. I prayed for the first. Though, as the figure of Walter appeared in the doorway when the door slowly swung open, my hopes were quashed.

"Hello, Henry," Walter said smiling, voice as sly and smooth as a murder's could be and stepped into the room. "Did you have fun playing hide and seek with me earlier? It was fun, wasn't it?"

I just glared at him.

"Ah." He said and in a quick motion ripped the tape off of my mouth. It hurt like /hell/ but I decided not to say anything about it.

"That was as fun as waking up to a ghost staring you in the face."

Me being smart just made Walter grin even more. He casually walked over to me and tussled my hair, laughing slightly to himself. Oh, how I hated that laugh.

"Oh, come now Henry," he said and whipped out a small pocket knife. "It'll be over soon."

He said a few more things, but I couldn't hear them, only watch as his mouth moved. It sounded like my heart was beating so loudly in my chest that the thudding echoed in my brain, blocking out all that I could hear. He crouched down, that wide, cocky grin only a few inches from my face as well as the blade, and... cut the ropes around my front. I raised a brow in curiosity. Was Walter planning something, or had he finally taken his meds? Then, something I wouldn't ever expect happened. His lips connected with mine, light, warm, soft in texture. It felt strange, not like the hungry wet kisses from Eileen; no, this felt as if it was just right... but like hell I was going to tell him that.

"Wal...ter?" I questioned as he pulled away, looking with a confused expression into his half lidded eyes.

"What... the... hell?"

"You liked it didn't you?"

My eyes darted away. "Erm..."

"I knew you would." Walters voice had gotten quite low at this point and had an almost melodic tone to it. He moved from his position and straddled my hips, the blade now lowered close to my chest. My heart began to flutter.

"Walter, could you... erm... put away the knife?"

He pressed the flat end to my cheek. Great. "Why? Does it intimidate you?"

"Yes."

Again that wretched, evil laugh. "Well, Henry, if I put away the knife, I wouldn't be able to do this." The tip of the blade was swiftly inserted into my chest, blood beginning to trickle down at the incision. The knife moved downward slowly, making a line, red liquid now pouring down my stomach. Walter continued carving into me. My eyes were shut tightly. Of course, it hurt, but I wasn't going to show him my pain.

Soon, I felt the knife leave my flesh and my eyes slowly opened. As I looked down at my chest, I could only see blood.

"What the hell, Walter, are you trying to kill me?!"

Walter looked up and grinned. Specks of my blood stained his cheeks. "I'm claiming you, Henry. You're offically mine. My initals are carved into your chest, see?"

Damn, I thought. They sure as hell were. Underneath all of the blood I could faintly make out a "W" on my abdomen, and an even larger "S" beside that.

"I know how to slice people up. That's why I went to med school, my love." He whispered softly in my ear, making me scowl.

"You're insane."

A low chuckle. "Thank you."

I felt his hands running across my stomach, his touch stinging quite a bit. Walter raised his hands to show me that they were covered in blood -I didn't really want to know that in the first place, though-, then stood up and walked to a spot of wall that wasn't totally coated in the red stuff. Huh, how did I miss that? He started to write something on the dull white wall paper, though his fat ass was blocking the way so that I couldn't see most of it. It kind of annoyed me and creeped me out, because I was a little curious as to what he was writing, and, of course, the fact that he was using my blood.

He moved out of the way, grinning madly, and gestured to the wall. From what I could make out, it read:

'I love you, your love is mine.

I've watched over you all of the time.

Now I've got you, you'll never run away.

Forever here with me to play.

Henry, my captive forever.

-Walter Sullivan'

"What do you think, Henry?" Walter asked with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

I cocked my head to the side, reading the poem-esq words over a second time. "I think you need medication."

"I bet you've been thinking that about me since I first met you."

"I bet you're right."

A look of slight disdain crossed his face, and, quicker than I could see, he flung the knife in my direction, the weapon lodging into the wood right next to my face. I looked at Walter; he was scowling somewhat. Apparently I'm good at making people mad. I looked with wide eyes at what I could see of the knife; though I could only clearly make out the handle, I realized it was still covered in my blood. And, yet again, I commenced panicing. I started to thrash around like an idiot.

"What the hell man?!"

I received no answer. Walter ran his hand through the words on the wall, mussing them up for the most part, then returned to me and dug out the knife embedded in the post wood. He grabbed my hair, steadying my head, and raised it to my face again.

This was getting old.

By now my focus had decreased somewhat due to the amount of blood I had lost and was still losing, but I could still see the sadistic smile on his face as he sliced my cheek open. More started to pour down my face, and Walter ran his tongue over the cut.

"Groooss," I mumbled.

"Yummy," he replied.

"Walter, get your ass off of me."

The knife dug into my skin again, this time right above my temple. Again Walter licked it up, like a little puppy. An evil, sadistic, doll-loving puppy. Well, basically the same thing, right?

"Or you'll do /what/, Henry?" Walter chortled, voice low yet again, "you're mine now. Mine, mine, mine!" he crowed. His hand moved the weapon over and over and over again across my skin, blood spurting out of every cut and slice. Apparently, I guess I had lost too much blood, because my vision went completely black, and the last thing I remembered was that god damned laugh.