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First of all, I would like to thank everyone that's reviewed so far. I appreciate it a whole bunch. Please keep the input coming!!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Stephen King's characters or any elements of his story. All I own that's remotely related to "Secret Window" is the short story collection of "Four Past Midnight" which I broke down and bought out of weakness (What a great picture on the cover!! J). I am going to see the movie for the third time to hear Johnny Depp sing at the end of the movie after the credits and wow! Such a great movie! Also, if you haven't read the short story, "Secret Window, Secret Garden," try it. The movie is very true to the book in general, except for the ending. Now, before I really start rambling too much, on to Chapter 4!!!
Chapter 4
Screaming
Diane rubbed her hand over the back of her head where it was throbbing. What the hell? she thought, opening her eyes. She stopped her hand in midair and blinked. What the hell? Where am I? She struggled to stand up. She was slumped over in something soft that smelled slightly of mothballs. Her heart began to beat faster as she held her arms out in the darkness.
She felt the sides of the closet and her breathing became shallower. Okay, she thought, how did I get in here? She tried to see some bit of light, but the entire room was in darkness. A whiff of mothballs registered in her senses and she blinked. What am I doing in the closet? She had just brought her winter coats down from the attic the week before and they still smelled.
She found the doorknob and turned it, but the door was jammed with something, stuck tight. She rammed against it with her shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. Great, this is just great. I'm stuck in this stupid closet like some damsel in distress and there's no one around for miles except of course for a homicidal maniac with split personality. She stood for a moment, gazing into nothingness and strained to hear any sign of movement on the other side of the door. She leaned back against the wall and tried to slow her breathing, in order to hear over the rushing in her ears which seemed to cancel out all other sounds and made her feel as if she was wading underwater, lost in the darkness.
She was oddly calm, despite her body's panicking reaction. Maybe he's gone, she thought, maybe he just ran off. Another part of her laughed at her stupid optimism.
*******************************************************************************
Mort tripped over a tree root that had grown in an arch into the dirt. He landed face down in the grass, sending dry leaves flying into the growing darkness.
"She knows about me. You know that I can't let her live." He heard Shooter laugh behind him, a rusty grating on his nerves. Will that guy ever shut up?
He stood up quickly, got a head rush and stumbled back against a tree. When he looked behind him, Shooter was gone.
"Shooter!!!"
Silence. "I know you're out there!"
He's going. He's going to kill the girl. You have to stop him. He told you he would do it. Go, you'd better hurry.
His thoughts were choppy, as if one side of his brain was experiencing technical difficulties. He listened for any movement nearby but silence seemed to choke the forest.. He finally got has balance back, and although he tilted to the side, he started to jog back through the dark woods, making his way laboriously in search of Diane's cabin.
Hurry.
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Diane was beating against the closet door repetitively, her head pounding like a snare drum when she heard a crashing noise on the other side of the door.
That's him. He's back. Wonderful. Sitting duck, anyone?
She stopped beating on the door, and stood silently for a moment, waiting for any other sign of life. Nothing.
She took a deep breath and started to gather momentum to ram her shoulder against the door, but at the exact moment her arm made contact with the door, it was flung open and she stumbled out and on to the floor, knocking her head.
I'm beginning to understand how those tiny little silver balls in a pinball machine feel.
She had landed on her stomach, her breath knocked out of her, and she took a moment to inhale. The air whistled through her windpipe with a hiss. She rolled over slowly, terrified to see who had opened the door, and positive she already knew the answer.
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"Well, well, well," the tall man with deep wrinkles said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Lookee what we got here." He was thin with broad shoulders, but she could tell that despite his wiry frame, he was strong. He knelt down next to her and smiled, displaying yellowing teeth that made her cringe inwardly. He wore a curious black hat with a wide brim, hiding his eyes.
"C-can I help you?" Diane asked, coughing on the dry words she forced out.
"Why you surely can," he said, "but I don't think you're gonna like it."
He pulled her up by her sweater roughly as she screamed.
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"I'm so sorry for all of this trouble missus," the man drawled as he finished the knot that bound her wrists behind her back and stood. She was seated in the desk chair in the center of the living room.
"Who are you?"
The man chuckled, "I could answer that for you, but you already know don't you?"
"Shooter?"
"The one and only," he said.
"What do you want?"
He considered her question for a moment, a small smile lighting his lips evilly, although she couldn't see it through the blindfold. "Well, I can't have you around when our good ol' Mort is so taken with you. All you would do is use him and then dispose of him, just like his wife did."
"Well then why don't you just kill me and get it over with," she challenged, "what are you waiting for?" She wriggled her wrists, but the ropes wouldn't give a millimeter. What are you doing? Are you a moron? Don't encourage him!
"Because Mort and I have something to handle before this whole business can be finished."
Diane jumped when she heard footsteps on the back porch and listened to see what was going on, but all the sounds seemed to be muffled.
She heard the screen door slam and a moment later something cold pressed against her throat.
"Don't move or I'll kill her."
First of all, I would like to thank everyone that's reviewed so far. I appreciate it a whole bunch. Please keep the input coming!!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Stephen King's characters or any elements of his story. All I own that's remotely related to "Secret Window" is the short story collection of "Four Past Midnight" which I broke down and bought out of weakness (What a great picture on the cover!! J). I am going to see the movie for the third time to hear Johnny Depp sing at the end of the movie after the credits and wow! Such a great movie! Also, if you haven't read the short story, "Secret Window, Secret Garden," try it. The movie is very true to the book in general, except for the ending. Now, before I really start rambling too much, on to Chapter 4!!!
Chapter 4
Screaming
Diane rubbed her hand over the back of her head where it was throbbing. What the hell? she thought, opening her eyes. She stopped her hand in midair and blinked. What the hell? Where am I? She struggled to stand up. She was slumped over in something soft that smelled slightly of mothballs. Her heart began to beat faster as she held her arms out in the darkness.
She felt the sides of the closet and her breathing became shallower. Okay, she thought, how did I get in here? She tried to see some bit of light, but the entire room was in darkness. A whiff of mothballs registered in her senses and she blinked. What am I doing in the closet? She had just brought her winter coats down from the attic the week before and they still smelled.
She found the doorknob and turned it, but the door was jammed with something, stuck tight. She rammed against it with her shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. Great, this is just great. I'm stuck in this stupid closet like some damsel in distress and there's no one around for miles except of course for a homicidal maniac with split personality. She stood for a moment, gazing into nothingness and strained to hear any sign of movement on the other side of the door. She leaned back against the wall and tried to slow her breathing, in order to hear over the rushing in her ears which seemed to cancel out all other sounds and made her feel as if she was wading underwater, lost in the darkness.
She was oddly calm, despite her body's panicking reaction. Maybe he's gone, she thought, maybe he just ran off. Another part of her laughed at her stupid optimism.
*******************************************************************************
Mort tripped over a tree root that had grown in an arch into the dirt. He landed face down in the grass, sending dry leaves flying into the growing darkness.
"She knows about me. You know that I can't let her live." He heard Shooter laugh behind him, a rusty grating on his nerves. Will that guy ever shut up?
He stood up quickly, got a head rush and stumbled back against a tree. When he looked behind him, Shooter was gone.
"Shooter!!!"
Silence. "I know you're out there!"
He's going. He's going to kill the girl. You have to stop him. He told you he would do it. Go, you'd better hurry.
His thoughts were choppy, as if one side of his brain was experiencing technical difficulties. He listened for any movement nearby but silence seemed to choke the forest.. He finally got has balance back, and although he tilted to the side, he started to jog back through the dark woods, making his way laboriously in search of Diane's cabin.
Hurry.
********************************************************************************
Diane was beating against the closet door repetitively, her head pounding like a snare drum when she heard a crashing noise on the other side of the door.
That's him. He's back. Wonderful. Sitting duck, anyone?
She stopped beating on the door, and stood silently for a moment, waiting for any other sign of life. Nothing.
She took a deep breath and started to gather momentum to ram her shoulder against the door, but at the exact moment her arm made contact with the door, it was flung open and she stumbled out and on to the floor, knocking her head.
I'm beginning to understand how those tiny little silver balls in a pinball machine feel.
She had landed on her stomach, her breath knocked out of her, and she took a moment to inhale. The air whistled through her windpipe with a hiss. She rolled over slowly, terrified to see who had opened the door, and positive she already knew the answer.
********************************************************************************
"Well, well, well," the tall man with deep wrinkles said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Lookee what we got here." He was thin with broad shoulders, but she could tell that despite his wiry frame, he was strong. He knelt down next to her and smiled, displaying yellowing teeth that made her cringe inwardly. He wore a curious black hat with a wide brim, hiding his eyes.
"C-can I help you?" Diane asked, coughing on the dry words she forced out.
"Why you surely can," he said, "but I don't think you're gonna like it."
He pulled her up by her sweater roughly as she screamed.
********************************************************************************
"I'm so sorry for all of this trouble missus," the man drawled as he finished the knot that bound her wrists behind her back and stood. She was seated in the desk chair in the center of the living room.
"Who are you?"
The man chuckled, "I could answer that for you, but you already know don't you?"
"Shooter?"
"The one and only," he said.
"What do you want?"
He considered her question for a moment, a small smile lighting his lips evilly, although she couldn't see it through the blindfold. "Well, I can't have you around when our good ol' Mort is so taken with you. All you would do is use him and then dispose of him, just like his wife did."
"Well then why don't you just kill me and get it over with," she challenged, "what are you waiting for?" She wriggled her wrists, but the ropes wouldn't give a millimeter. What are you doing? Are you a moron? Don't encourage him!
"Because Mort and I have something to handle before this whole business can be finished."
Diane jumped when she heard footsteps on the back porch and listened to see what was going on, but all the sounds seemed to be muffled.
She heard the screen door slam and a moment later something cold pressed against her throat.
"Don't move or I'll kill her."