Fanboy stumbled to the floor and fell on his hands and knees. The little sliver of light that has shone from the door being opened thinned, and eventually disappeared as the door shut completely. Completely shrouded in darkness, Fanboy began to panic. "W-What is going on here?" He yelled into the darkness, sitting back on his hindquarters. He noticed that because of the struggle, his lime green shirt had been torn. His hands came into contact with chilled wood, causing a shudder to run up his spine.
"Don't screw with me!" He warned the unknown perpetrator, "I know you're there; I wasn't just magically pulled in you know." He still received no reply. Blinking at the dark, he struggled to his feet, then steadied himself. He dared to take a step forward, and felt something whack him on the side of the head, causing his to fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. His fragile knuckles scraped against the rough wood of the floor, gaining small splinters as he did so. He felt a warm liquid gently trail down from his temple.
"This is it," he realized. "I'm going to die. I'm going to be the next victim. Oh help me, God! Please!" The frightened-beyond-repaired man tensed up, waiting for his death, but to his surprise, a voice entered the atmosphere instead of a knife or bullet. A very familiar voice. It was feminine, and oddly enough, lisped.
"Hello Fanboy. Remember me?" The voice questioned in a mocking tone. "My my, you haven't changed a bit since we lassst sssaw each other."
Icy terror stabbed at his entire being. The voice...he knew automatically who the voice's owner was. "M-Marsha?" He whispered, frozen in fear.
He heard a click, and was instantly blinded by a bright light that shone with intensity. He blinked once, twice, his emerald eyes trying to readjust to the change of atmosphere. His frightened gaze trailed upward to face the woman who had been missing for nine years, and her blue eyes that had haunted him for so long bore into him. Her braces-adorned mouth churned into a sneer at she gave him a look of disgust. Her clothes consisted of a green skirt, a yellow blouse covering a red and yellow striped T-shirt. Her scarlet hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
"I've been waiting," she muttered, stepping toward him with her army boots. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." Her fists clenched in emphasis.
Fanboy gave her a nervous grin and chuckled almost hysterically. "O-Oh, I can imagine. Y-You look great Marsha. Where've you been?"
The twenty-something year old woman chuckled. "I've been plotting, sssscheming down here in this bassssement of mine. Where have you been? Tell me, Fanboy." She practically spat out his name.
The man's eyes castes downwards. "C-College. I-I'm a mechanical engineer now." A flicker of impression flashed across Marsha's dirty face.
"Well, isn't that just sssswell," she snapped sarcastically. "The idiotic super hero wannabe actually got somewhere while I didn't, but I truly deserved it. Terrific."
Fanboy gulped hard. "Marsha," he said quietly. "If you really wanted to go somewhere, you could have..." He trailed off. He was about to say if she she had tried harder.
He remembered something she had said to him, back when they were children, back before she went missing. "Oh, hoho. It's too late for tests. Now it's time for reveeeenge!"
"Marsha! You don't have to do this! Please!" He pleaded. "I can take care of you! Really! I have a great job, and I can take care if you. You can't live like this anymore."
The woman grinned. "You're a little late. Nine years late in fact."
It's too late. It's too late. It's too late...
"Marsha," Fanboy whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. "Please..."
"Shut up! It's my turn now." She quickly advanced towards him, cracking her knuckled in the process. "Move!" Fanboy's mind screamed. But the childhood terror was too strong. He just sat frozen as she pulled a knife from her belt. "I've been dreaming of this moment for as long as I remember. Goodbye Fanboy."
"Twenty year old mechanical engineer, known as Fanboy was found dead in the basement of Miss Marsha. She was reported to have turned herself in after nine years of absence and then showed the police where the body was. Further reports have showed us that when questioned of her actions, she only replied with, "It is done, and I only did what I had to do. He ruined my life. I ruin his. She will be awaiting trial shortly."