Return To The Twilight Zone
By: Metal Sonic EX

Hi again! This is a pretty small category, so I don't expect much from this. But, then again, in my opinion, The Twilight Zone is the best damn show on TV, past or present. So, if you think otherwise, well… shove it. As for you who don't think otherwise, read on!!

Disclaimer: The Twilight Zone is (c) to Rod Serling. Any stories other than my own will have their submitters credited when they're written.

Based Off Of: n/a
Inspired By: A crappy Megaman fic I wrote

(The Twilight Zone theme begins playing.)

Serling: This is a door. The key is one of imagination. One of sound, one of sight, one of mind, and one of that we do not understand. It is the unknown that leads us here and it is that which keeps us in this mysterious dimension sealed only by this door. Readers, you have just opened this door and, by doing such, have returned to… the Twilight Zone.

(The Twilight Zone theme ends.)

(The scene is a hallway in a fancy aprtment complex. A tired-looking man walks up to a door and puts his briefcase down. As he goes to open his door, he notices that his neighbor's door is open. Curious, he peeks in and sees him standing on the balconey. The man starts and rushes to pull him down, but gets there in time to see the man plummet to his death. Grimacing, he turns around and notices that every square inch of the room has the phrase 'I couldn't figure it out...' written on it with some kind of paint.)

'Submitted for your approval, the now scene of a suicide, one which is surrounded in mystery. The phrase 'I couldn't figure it out...' may not seem like much, but it is one of the most important clues in this case.'

(The camera turns to Serling as he looks over the side of the balconey, then turns to the camera.)

'Now, Marcus Thornan, the only witness of the incident, is next. He doesn't know it, but he must either unravel the mystery of this event... or die. But this is no ordinary task. This is a task that can only be accomplished... in the Twilight Zone'

Episode One
Death's Game

(Marcus sits by the door as three police officers and a CSI crew walk in.)

"Mr. Thornan?" Marcus nodded slowly. "I'm Officer Reen. Can you tell me all that you saw?" Marcus motioned into the room and the group started. "I couldn't wait in there. I wouldn't..." The police and CSI walked in, followed slowly afterwards. Marcus looked up as the CSI began examining the room. "So, can you tell me what you saw?" Marcus slowly nodded. "He was standing on the edge and..." Reed walked to the balconey and looked over. "Pretty long fall." Reed turned around and examined the room. Looking up, he noticed a single patch of open space in the middle of the ceiling.

"Turn the lights off." Everyone followed his gaze, then one of the officers complied. The phrase 'Death's Game' became visible and a CSI worker asked an officer to get a ladder. As he left, Reed turned back to Marcus. "Did Mr. Tucker have any enemies?" Marcus laughed lightly. "Maybe in a past life. I've never known someone so loved before in my life. Everyone admired him." Reed nodded, then looked around. "Would you like us to arrange a hotel room?" Marcus nodded slowly, then walk back into his own room and packed a few things.

Ten minutes later, Marcus a police car drove up to the local Econo Lodge. "Do you need anything else?" Marcus shook his head and slowly opened the door. "I'll probably just go to the local bar. It's not far." Reed laughed. "Hell, after this, I might join you." Marcus smirked. "I'll see you there." Marcus closed the door and backed up as the car drove off into the night. Marcus then went inside and put his stuff into his room. Afterwards, he walked a few blocks to the local bar. "Hey Phil." The bartender, whom Marucs had known most his life, turned to him. "Jesus, Mark! YOu look like shit!"

Marcus took a sit between two other regulars, Dave and Robert. Phil opened up a Budweiser and handed it to him. "On the house." Marucs smiled slightly, then explained what had happened. "Jesus... That's gotta be rough..." They then sit there in silence until the news report came on a few minutes later. After drinking the beer over a course of two hours, Marcus stood up. "I'm heading off." Phil nodded. "You take care of yourself out there." Marcus nodded as Dave and Bob both bid farewell as well.

Back at his hotel, he brought out his laptop, then e-mailed a few relatives assuring them that he was fine. He then went into the bathroom and took a shower. After getting out, he put on shaving cream and bent over to turn the water on. When he stood erect again, he dropped his shaver in surprise. There, in his doorway was a cloaked figure holding a scythe.

Marcus spun around, but nothing was there. He turned back to the mirror, but the image was gone. Sighing, he finished shaving, then called the front desk, asking for a wake-up call of 5:30. After several sleepless hours, he somehow managed only to be woken up a few hours later. "Hello?" Marcus got up and opened his door. He looked out, but saw no one. Shrugging, he closed the door and turned around. This time, the figure was standing next to his bed. He slammed his eyes shut, then reopened them to see that the figure had vanished.

Sighing, he pressed up against the wall and let his body slowly slide down tothe floor. The phone rang, causing him to jump. He walked to the phone and reluctantly answered. "He-hello...?" "This is your 5:30 wake-up call, Mr. Thornan." Marcus sighed. "Th-thank you." He hung up and sighed. "Well, no point in going back to sleep now..." The phone rang again and again, he reluctantly answered it. "He-hello?" "Sorry to disturb you again, but you've got a call from a Mr. Walton." His boss?

"P-patch it through."

"Marcus, you okay? I heard about what happened."

"I'm f-fine..."

"Doesn't sound like it. Listen, I want you to take a few days e back when you feel better, okay?"

"O-okay..."

Marcus hung up and sighed. Now what? Marcus showered, got dressed, and began cruising around town, trying to take ihs mind off of the night before. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. First, at the museum, while examining a copy of 'The Screamer' (or maybe it's called 'The Scream'...), he saw the cloaked figure standing in the background. He quickly left and went to the library. There, he saw it standing in the middle of an aisle of books. Panicky, he went to the zoo, but the lions were acting weirdly. He looked to see what was going on and saw it standing in the lions' den while the lions kept their distance.

After a stressful day, Marcus returned to the bar in an attempt to drown his fear. "Wow... Just when I thought you couldn't look any worse... What happened now?" Marcus sighed. "I think... I think I've been seeing Death?" Dave, Bob, and Phil all gave him a weird look. "I'm serious! Last night, I saw something in my bathroom doorway, then by my bed. And just today, it was at the zoo, the library, and it was even in the background of 'The Screamer' (or The Scream')!"

Phil shook his head. "You're losing it, Mark. You've gotta get a hold of yourself. Hell, you shouldn't even be here! You should be at your room trying to get some sleep!" Marcus slowly nodded, then stood up. "R-right. I... I'll see you guys later." He walked out, then a few minutes passed before Dave stood up.

"I'd better be off too." Phil chuckled. "Where you going?" Dave smirked. "Gotta stop by that Halloween store." Phil frowned. "What for?" Dave raised an eyebrow. "My costume." Phil furrowed his eyebrows. "It's April." Dave shrugged. "Even that's good is gone by September." Dave walked out and left Phil looked rathered peeved. "You okay?" Phil turned to Bob. "Hmph! That depends..."

The next morning, after a surprisingly good sleep, Marcus showered and got ready for work. He walked outside and began walking to the bus stop a few blocks away. As he was walking down the street, he turned his head and saw the figure standing next to a cab. Panicking, he dropped his briefcase and ran like the wind. A few blocks down, he stopped and began to catch his breath. Looking up, he saw the same figure standing by the same cab. Again, he began running for his life and, when he reached the bus stop, he plopped down into the bench.

Back at the bar, Phil just opened the door when Bob walked in. "Okay, two questions. Why so early?" Bob laughed. "It's my day off. That, and it's gotta be five somewhere." Phil chuckled. "Okay, two. Just what did Dave get?" Bob snorted. "Got a cloak and scythe. Don't know wh-" Phil grabbed Bob by the collar and pulled him in so close, their noses nearly touched. "I swear to God, if something happens to Mark because of your stupid ass brother's actions, I'll cut off his head and shove it up your ass."

Phil threw him to the ground, then ran outside and got into his car. Back at the bench, Marcus finally began catching his breath, then sighed. He sat back and opened his eyes, looking straight up into the figure's hood. Screaming in terror, he sprinted from the bench and ran into the street where he was promptly hit by Phil. "Oh Jesus! Mark!" Phil ran to Marcus' side, noticing a large pool of blood coming from his head. Marcus sounded like... like he was chuckling... "I... finally figured it out... Death's Game..." Marcus passed on and Phil roared in anger. As Dave went to run away, Phil grabbed him and threw him to the ground. "Are you fucking insane?! What were you thinking?!"

Dave, in a panic, began explaining the joke he'd planned, how he'd followed Marcus in the cab, which he drove for a living, and that he never meant for it to go this far. "Well, no shit! But it did and he's dead!" Dave growled and pointd an accusing finger at Phil. "You hit him!" Phil reached for Dave's neck, but went pale and fainted. "What the...?" Dave turned around to find another cloaked figure standing there. It looked up, revealing that its' head was a skull. "Oh shit..." Dave began running for it as Death slowly followed him.

'A practical joke that was more practical than it had appeared. Now, Mr. David Hane is next in the long line of Death's playthings, victims it toys with before striking them down. Perhaps he will be luckier than the ex-witness, one Mr. Marcus Thornan. Or, perhaps he'll be the same as him, a victim doomed to an eternal rest... in the Twilight Zone.'