Title: A Bullet For Samara
Rating: PG (um... slightly messy murder scene?)
Category: Horror/Humour
Summary: A variation on the infamous death scenes of 'The Ring'. Any feedback welcome, especially constructive critique. Thanks!
A Bullet For Samara
The seven days had passed, as had the various activities of automatic drawing and writing, the nightmares and the viewing of malformed photographs had passed too. Jeffery Knee was almost ready. He dialled in 911.
"I'd like to report a homicide please," he tried injecting some panic into his voice, "There's blood everywhere, my god!"
"Hold on, sir. A homicide? Name and location please?" the operator replied calmly.
Jeffery supplied the needed details, added some more hysterics to his act then hung up. He checked his gun, it was fully loaded and cleaned. He held it in his left hand. He checked his watch then the wall clock. Both right on time, three minutes and almost 50 seconds. Now he was ready. He stood for perhaps a minute in excited anticipation, willing the clock forward but it seemed as if he had eternity instead to wait. He sat down in his chair and glared at the TV.
He didn't know at the time the video was some sort of insidious spiritual trap from his crazed ex-girlfriend. But now he knew and he certainly wasn't going to hand over his soul to no she-devil. In fact, he realised he could of copied the tape and passed it on or done what he was about to do in earlier days, but doing it now had a certain dramatic flair that he liked. He was going down in a blaze of smug glory, Jeffery decided. Both parents dead, no siblings, friends who could only be called drinking buddies, and then there was the ex... Jeffery knew he wasn't going to be missed.
He looked at the watch again... one minute! He stood up again and fixed his stare onto the TV set. He practiced aimming the gun, couldn't get that part wrong. He breathed deeply as if to soothe himself, too much excitement or panic would ruin his chance and that could have terrible consequences. Suddenly the screen flickered to life, Jeff quickly glanced at the power-board and it was empty. Unbelievable. The buzzing of static gave way to silence and Jeffery looked back. The grainy picture of a well was on the screen, his heart was pounding. Incredible! He knew it was going to happen, and yet to see it actually happen was still nothing short of amazing. Something began to crawl out of the well, pale arms and long dark hair. It was her! He watched mesmerized as she clambered out of the well and across the ground. The screen skipped a beat and now she was at the very forefront of the screen. Jeffery's jaw dropped, now she had easily pushed past the barrier of the screen and was in his living room. Dear god! The moment was only seconds away. Maybe he should of just copied the tape, he was paralyzed by both amazement and fear.
He took a step back and then another, he willed his arm to raise the gun. She was so close now, her smell was putrid. Her arms bloated in places and rotted in others. Her hair was like a big and wet curtain, and as she stopped and began to rise the curtain began to part. Jeffery snapped to gun to his head and as the last pieces of the curtain departed from the foul horror they hid, Jeffery heard a very loud boom and instantly the world went dark.
Samara howled. Blood pooled everywhere, staining a carpet, his clothes and reaching even Samara herself. She took a step back in disgust. Few things nauseated her now, but she had seen him! The cheek of him! Leading her on like that. And now she had no soul to feed on, to entrap and enslave. His soul was gone wherever souls usually go, when Samara has not touched them. There was nothing left to do here, she thought, although it is not in the nature of the living to take such decisive action against me. She was comforted by that thought, most of the living were far too interested in self-preservation to do such a thing. Samara liked to think it would be a one-off event, an oddball event as her mother used to say. Her mother, how could she remember that woman after so many years?
She turned back to the TV set and had taken a few steps forward, when she heard a shout.
"POLICE! Sir!?"
Samara felt the familiar itch, sadly she could not claim these souls but she could certainly feed on their minds for all their worth. She smiled at herself in a cabinet mirror, the smile looking more like a horrible rictus than an actual smile. She knew she was still most certainly in the window of time allowed for such... housecalls. Samara lurched forward to greet her visitors.