Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long! I have been writing other stories (okay, I admit it, I saw LOTR2 and am now addicted. I've been writing LOTR fics) so I have been busy…lol. Anywho, this is dedicated to anyone who reviews *hint hint* so please review! Thank you to Darago's Rainy Daae for constantly reading my strange (if not slightly twisted) SK fics and lists.

Oh, btw: I am now on SoupFiction.Net (my name is Imfirthiel) and I wrote a "you know you're obsessed with Stephen King when…" that I put up. Yes, they actually allow you to post lists! *grin*

Arrgh! No More!

Jim covered his face, as instinct told him to do. He waited for the unspeakable pain that would engulf his body once the flames reached him.

He stood like that for quite a while. Once he realized that he wasn't burning to death, he slowly lowered his arms. He blinked, and found himself looking into one of the ugliest faces he had ever seen in his life (which, considering all he had seen, was saying something).

The face had blond hair. It was attached to a rather large head, which was attached to a body that followed suite. The body was broad shouldered and tall, over six-foot. He wore normal clothing, but Jim didn't notice the clothes that much.

It was the face that got his attention.

The face was oozing, as if the skin was dripping straight off. Pus oozed grotesquely, and a horrible smell came from beneath. The man was rotting alive.

"Admiring my good looks?" He asked Jim, revealing several gaps where his teeth should have been.

Jim backed up a step, and the guy pulled out a gun. "Okay then, bye!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Jim winced, but none of the bullets touched him. In fact, they seemed to be being fired from behind him. He turned around.

The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer with the decaying man. He was in a long hallway with green tiles. The walls seemed to be made up of bars.

I'm in a jail…Jim thought, amazed.

"Percy, what are you doing?" screamed a voice.

Jim turned and saw a man standing there. He was dressed in an early 1900's sheriff's outfit, and beside him was a jail cell. Inside the cell was the largest man Jim had ever seen. The large man was African-American, and looked ill- that is, he was very pale.

The man the "sheriff man" had called out to (Percy) was a good looking man with carefully manicured nails and well-groomed blond hair. He was also a bit pale, but his fine features made up for it. Percy was aiming a gun into a cell and emptying it into someone Jim couldn't see.

Percy abruptly turned and aimed the gun at Jim. "Arrgh! Not again!" He cried, covering his face.

Instead of hearing more gun shots, Jim merely heard the wind whistling. He opened his eyes to see that he was falling…falling…falling.

When he finally landed, he was in a room with a tall man with greasy black hair. The man had a metal brace on one leg and seemed old…in his fifties, maybe. He cursed quite colorfully as he moved the braced leg, then he looked up at Jim.

"Oh, hello, nice to see you." He said amiably.

Jim stared at the man, then tentatively asked, "Are you going to hurt me?"

The man laughed. "No, I won't. I probably couldn't even catch you. Though some of my characters could, I'd wager." He let this sink in, then introduced himself. "I am the man who put you through this hell. I am Stephen King."

Jim gasped. "Why would you do that to your books- make them so I can get sucked in? What about the girl? Has she been sucked in too?"

Stephen held his hands up to stop the flow of questions. "I made you get 'sucked in' because you needed a lesson. The girl has never been inside of my books. She is my fan, so of course I would never make her face those characters…though (come to think of it) she'd probably enjoy it…"

"What lesson did I need?!" Jim screeched, resisting the urge to strangle the man.

"You stole, you're a…jerk…and I felt like giving you a taste of my novels. You should at least read something before you burn it!" Stephen replied. "Now, I assume you will not take anything again…you've learned your lesson, right, Jim?"

"But-but how did you make the book--"

Stephen held up a hand. "Not important."

Jim goggled at him. "Can I go home now?"

"Of course…I don't exactly relish our time together…but if you DO go near one my books again and attempt to destroy it, I shall let you face ALL of my creatures."

"N-never! I swear! Just lemme go!" Jim begged.

Stephen King smiled, then waved good bye.

Jim fell again, and landed on his bed.

Author's Note: Okay, this chapter probably wasn't as good, but I'm stuck in LOTR mode right now, so sorry! One more chapter, I think…here are the SK books of the chapter:

The Dark Half (George Stark, as per request, lol!)

The Green Mile (hope I got that scene right, my book is at school…hope you like it, D's R D!)

On Writing (Okay, I didn't really base it on that book, but it was the only one with Master King as a main character, besides Danse Macabre, but I haven't read that one *gasp!* yet.)

I got a few requests for characters/books to use, and I tried to use the ones that I read/know about. I hope you liked the chapter, please review!