Angel: Well, I'm having fun! ^^

Meiko: She just LOVES torture fics.

Yuu: Or horror

Ginta: Or suspense

Miwa: Or thriller

Meiko: Note my sarcasm . . . -_-

Angel: Well, this is a YGO and the Ring cross over, this is only the prologue, and doesn't introduce the plot really, but it will show how much description I'll add, and to see if anyone likes the way I write.

Meiko: Oh, this is new . . . -_- (Once again, note the sarcasm)

Angel: So, okay. I don't own 'The Ring' or Yugioh, just a few made up characters, and the . . .

Wait, I don't really own the plot this time, do I?

Meiko: Oh well, if you don't and say you do, I'll just laugh when you get sewed.

Angel: I'll be taking you with me.

Meiko: o.O Shuting up.

Angel: Hope you like it! ^^

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Prologue

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"Please," begged a soft, innocent voice. "I want to see my mommy."

"I'm sorry Samara," said Dr. Johnson. The doctor sat behind the one way mirror, but no one was with the little 8-year-old girl in the large, white room. The doctor's tan-colored eyes were emotionless behind thin rimmed brown glasses. He was about 35, standing 6'4" with short tidy black hair. He sat in his chair conformably, looking at the pictures in his hands, then back up to the girl. "Not until we find out what's wrong with you."

"But I love my mommy," the girl said, looking as innocent as any child would. The girl was about eight, with long black hair that hung down near her ankles, and her dull gray eyes staring at her feet, which she swung from side to side. As if she were bored with the conversation. She sat in the metal chair, wearing an old-fashioned white nightgown that reached a little past her ankles. Samara looked up at the window, though she couldn't see the doctor, she already disliked him.

"I know you do," the doctor answered. "But we have to figure out what your problem is. We know you don't mean to hurt anyone."

"Oh, but I do," the girl, Samara Morgan, said slowly in the same soft, innocent voice. Still looking at the window. "And I won't stop."

Dr. Johnson was slightly disturbed with Samara's answer, but was even more disturbed by the pictures he held. And the girl's hollow gray eyes gazing straight at him, as if she could see him, didn't help matters. Shaking his head, Dr. Johnson returned his attention to the pictures he held.

"How did you make these pictures, Samara?"

"I didn't," she answered, shaking her head a little, her gaze not shifting in the least. And it was really starting to creep Dr. Johnson out, but he had to maintain control of this.

"Now Samara," he said slowly, more scolding her than warning. "Let's not tell lies."

There was a glint of emotion in those hollow gray eyes, a glint of anger and frustration. Samara lowered her head so her bangs covered her eyes. "I didn't," she repeated more sternly in a harsh, low growl that startled the doctor, it was more forcing and a big difference than her soft voice Samara had been speaking in before. "I just see them, and they just . . . are."

Her mysterious tone sent shivers up the doctor's spine, but he kept his cool. "Samara," he said in his calm, soft voice. "Please don't lie to me. As soon as you tell us the truth, we will let you go home to your mommy and daddy."

"Daddy's going to leave me," Samara said, almost whining. A frown crossing her features, not that the doctor noticed.

"No he isn't," Dr. Johnson told her. "Your father loves you very much."

Samara shook her head furiously. "No, daddy loves the horses."

"The horses?" Now they were getting somewhere, Dr. Johnson knew that Mr. Morgan raised horses, but if he wasn't giving his daughter any attention, and that was the reason Samara acted the way she did, then this case was as good as closed.

"The horses keep me up at night," Samara answered, still staring at the ground, anger burning in her eyes, almost if she were trying to cave in the floor with her very gaze. "I don't like them."

A slight frown appeared on Dr. Johnson's face, the girl's hatred was apparent, but why was it on horses? "I know your father loves you much more than the horses Samara."

But the girl shook her mane of raven-black hair even more furiously. "No, daddy doesn't love me." Suddenly a maniac like smile, if you would call it that, spread across the girl's pale features. Making her look as if she were meant to be where she was, the insane asylum. Not really a place for an eight-year-old child. "But HE doesn't know," she giggled, making Dr. Johnson think that the child actually was majorly mental.

"Know what Samara?" Dr. Johnson asked, growing very concerned. "What doesn't he know."

The little girl looked up, her maniac smile spreading widely, and a psychotic glint in her dull, hollow, gray eyes. She looked straight through the glass as if to see into the doctor's very soul through his own eyes. Then she whispered in a very hoarse, rough voice that was barley heard, but if it was, it would not sound like it belonged to a human being at all.

"Everyone will suffer."

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Oh, that was different. Okay, yes I kind-of changed it. But I'm trying to make it at least a little bit original.

Okay, that wasn't really fair, there were no YGO characters, so I'll just beg for you to review, then give you a preview of chapter one.

Okay, here it goes.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEREVIEWI'MBEGGINGYOU!ONEGAI!ONEGAI!REVIEW!

*takes deep breath*

Whew . . . *wipes away sweat*

Well, time for the preview!^^

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Preview:

Chapter 1

Never stay alone

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The phone rang, endlessly, the same single note sounding off repeatedly.

RRRRRING!

RRRRRING!

RRRRRING!

Ryou finally snatched it up, bringing the phone up to his ear, shaking like mad.

"H-Hello?" Ryou held his breath as he waited for the other line to answer, but it took a few minutes.

"Is this the residence of Mr. Ryou Bakura?" Came an all too familiar voice. Ryou breathed a sigh, it was his dad's secretary over in England.

"Yes Diane, it's me."

"Your father wishes me to inform you that he won't be home for another month, the dig is taking longer than he thought."

"Oh, okay," Ryou said sadly. "Thank you." He then hung up the phone, breathing another sigh. Another month alone . . .

Well, he could at least look on the bright side, the kids at school were wrong. Nothing bad was about to happen to him.

RRRRRING!

RRRRRING!

Ryou picked up the phone again, already calmed down, and not the least bit worried.

"Hello, this is Ryou Bakura speaking," he said cheerfully, staring out the window at the pouring rain. No one answered on the other line.

"Hello?" Still no answer. Ryou pulled the phone away and stared at it for a moment, then brought it back to his ear. "Hello, is anyone there?" He asked, and was answered by a soft, harsh whisper from the very last person he would ever see, when the time came.

"Seven days."

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PLEASE REVIEW PEOPLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!