Day 1:
The moment she came to, Rachel knew she was no longer in the mental institution. Antique furniture decorated the room she was in. There was a vanity with a large mirror attached to it, a high-backed chair set in front of the vanity, a small, rectangular table with two matching chairs, and a large wardrobe. Red velvet wallpaper with an intricate gold pattern stamped into it covered the four walls and the floor was highly polished wood. All in all it was a very nice room. The only thing Rachel found wrong with it was that there was no window.
Rachel got up and checked the only door to the room. It was locked, of course. Then she went to the vanity and opened its drawers. It was filled with assorted cosmetics and hygienic accessories. She then wandered over to the wardrobe and found that it contained her old clothes.
"I thought you would appreciate having your own clothes to wear," a voice from behind said.
Startled, Rachel whipped around to find Professor Qara standing in the doorway.
"I apologize, I did not mean to scare you," the professor said.
"Where am I? What am I doing here?" Rachel asked.
"You are here because I believe we can help each other," Professor Qara said. "I assure you, Rachel, I mean you no harm. If you would please have a seat then I will explain everything."
Reluctantly, Rachel sat at the table. Professor Qara followed suit.
"First things first," the professor said. "What were you doing outside the institution? How did you get there?"
Rachel didn't like Professor Qara or the situation she found herself in. She felt that his questions were prying and didn't want to answer them. However, it was obvious that he had the upper hand. She had no idea where she was or what he had planned for her. Ultimately, she decided it was best to cooperate with the professor, for the time being anyway. So she went ahead and told Professor Qara about Samara's water trail and how it led her out of the institution. It didn't matter anyway. She knew the professor wasn't going to believe a word of it.
"Interesting," he said when she was done. "Very interesting. I feel that I need to clear the air between us before we can proceed any further. I know Samara is real, Rachel. I know that everything you have ever said about her is true. And I know why she frequently visits you."
At these words, relief washed over Rachel. Finally someone believed her. She still didn't trust the professor but maybe he could really help her. "Why does she come to me?" she asked.
"In due time, Rachel. There are other more pressing issues at hand that must be dealt with. Issues that I need your help with. That is why I brought you here."
"What issues?"
"Earlier this morning I watched the Cursed Video, the copy you made of Samara's tape. I now have a week before she comes for me"
"You watched the tape? You just told me that you believed everything I ever said about Samara. So why did you watch the tape if you knew you would die in a week?"
"Because I have done it before and survived."
"Samara let you live?"
"Not exactly, Rachel. Samara is not as unique as you think. There is another like Samara. Her name is Yamamura Sadako. She is Japanese, and like Samara, she has a Cursed Video. A few years ago I watched Sadako's Cursed Video and on the seventh day after I watched it she came for me. I did not die though. Instead she let me live and a psychic link was formed between us. Not very much unlike the one that you and Samara share."
"There is another one?" Rachel's mind reeled. Samara was an abomination. How could there be another like her?
"It is difficult to accept, I know," Professor Qara said. "I will give you time to digest what I have just told you."
When the professor left, Rachel began aimlessly pacing around the room. She stopped when her eyes landed on the large mirror of the vanity. It reminded her of the night she saw Samara standing in front of the lobby mirror. Had she been talking to her own reflection or was that Sadako? Rachel took a sheet from the bed and covered the vanity mirror's face.
Day 2:
In life, Sadako and Samara were as different as any other two people. It was in death and the events that followed where many uncanny parallels were found. Both had been betrayed by one of their parents and then thrown down a well to die. Both had spent their last days alive within that dark well trying desperately to climb its stony walls in a vain attempt at escape. Rachel could deal with these similarities. They weren't anything very significant in her mind. It was what followed that she had a difficult time grasping. First came the Cursed Videos. Professor Qara explained how Sadako's was created. How she psychically projected the images from within the well to the videotape. Rachel figured this same principle probably applied to Samara. After all, Rachel had discovered the videotape at the same place where Samara's well was hidden. Professor Qara then told Rachel about Sadako's first victims, and Rachel found this most disturbing of all. Just as with Samara, Sadako's reign of terror began with four teenagers. Then Sadako's video fell into the hands of a Japanese reporter, Asakawa Reiko. Rachel felt her world begin to crumble beneath her feet as Professor Qara told her the story of Asakawa and the finding of Sadako's well. Asakawa's story sounded almost exactly like Rachel's. There were simply too many parallels for Rachel to pass off as coincidence. So when Professor Qara began to tell of events in Asakawa's story that Rachel didn't recognize in her own story, she became fearful. Is this what my future holds, she thought to herself? Was Professor Qara now telling her of events which would soon transpire in her own life? Rachel couldn't listen to another second of it.
"Stop!" she demanded and Professor Qara fell silent. "How do you know all this?"
"Some of it I know from research I have done. The rest of it, Sadako shared with me."
"She tells you things?"
"No. She shows me, in visions."
"Yes," Rachel nodded, knowingly. "Samara does the same thing to me."
"They are both very powerful beings, Rachel. What Samara did to Richard Morgan is a prime example of just how powerful and influential they can be."
"What did she do?"
"You were there, Rachel. You saw it with your own eyes."
"Are you referring to Richard Morgan's suicide?"
"Suicide?" Professor Qara said and then laughed. "Richard Morgan did not commit suicide. I thought that would have been obvious to you. Richard Morgan was a simple man. If he were to commit suicide I assure you it wouldn't have been that elaborate. Not to mention all the telltale signs of Samara's involvement in his death: the tub full of water like a well, the horse bit in his mouth, electrodes covering his body, and, of course, the use of electricity as the means of death. No, Rachel, it was not suicide. Samara killed him, and in the process of doing so, she made him suffer as she felt he made her suffer. All the years she spent in therapy where she regularly received electroshock treatment, all the nights she spent alone in the barn with restless horses, Samara blamed him for all of it. So when the time came to exact her revenge, Samara wanted to let him know how she felt about it all."
"She made Richard Morgan kill himself? What about Anna, her mother? Did Samara kill her too?"
"No, I don't think so," Professor Qara said, assuredly. "I believe that Anna Morgan's suicide was genuine. Samara was in Anna's head, even after Samara's death. Samara enjoyed tormenting her. That much is evident. Anna Morgan simply couldn't take it anymore. She felt that death was the only way out."
"So she jumped off that cliff to escape from Samara?"
"Yes. She knew Samara would never leave her alone. She was Samara's favorite toy, so to speak. I am sure Samara tried to stop Anna from jumping, and it probably took every ounce of Anna's strength to fight off Samara's influence over her. Ultimately, Anna succeeded in finding the freedom from Samara she so desperately desired. However, in doing so I believe she now suffers a fate far worse: to forever repeat her suicide, over and over, until the end of time."
A shiver ran down Rachel's spine as she thought about what it would be like to relive one's own death for all eternity. "And what about Richard Morgan?" she asked after a long pause.
"What about him?"
"If Samara killed him then why did she wait so long to do it?"
A smile came to Professor Qara's face. "Because of you, Rachel," he then said.
"Me? What did I do?"
"It is not what you did. It is what you were going to do. Samara needed to establish a connection. For that she needed Richard Morgan. She knew you would go looking to him for answers. She knew that you would find the tape of her from the institution. She knew you would blame him as she did, and that was the connection. Once that happened she no longer needed him, and, as you witnessed, she wasted no time in exacting her revenge upon him."
"Connection?" Rachel said, her voice trembling. "What connection?"
"You have been chosen, Rachel, just as I was. Sadako chose me as their father and Samara chose you as their mother. I find it most interesting that each chose the parent that led to their demise. Even though I don't think they view it that way. I get the impression they feel that in death they found life, eternal life."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I am talking about you, me, and our two daughters: Sadako and Samara."
"They are not my daughters," Rachel said, disgustedly.
"Why, because you did not give physical birth to them? Do really think that matters? You have seen only a fraction of what they are capable of. I will let you in on a little secret, Rachel. They are not just inside your head. They are now a part of your whole being. Their DNA has been mixed with yours, just as it has been with mine. Like I said, Rachel, you were chosen. You are their mother. I am their father. And we are a family."
Day 3:
"He's coming," Samara said and then pointed to the door.
"Who is it, Samara? Who's coming?" Rachel asked.
"Daddy," she answered with a smile.
Professor Qara flung the door to Rachel's room open and threw several pictures on the table.
"Explain these," he demanded.
With caution, Rachel got up from bed and approached the table. She gasped when she looked at the pictures.
"What are these pictures of?" she asked, quickly looking away from them.
"They are pictures of me," Professor Qara said.
"Why are they so messed up?"
"You tell me. That is why you are here, to help me. You have been through this before."
"Yes, I have, but I never looked like that in any of the pictures that were taken of me. I mean, they were warped and blurry but nothing like that, nothing that extreme."
She glanced back down at the pictures on the table. Each one showed a fleshy blob that was warped and mangled beyond recognition. None of them looked even remotely like a person. An unadulterated eye in one of the pictures was the only semblance of anything human from the whole lot.
"What do you think it means?" Professor Qara asked.
"I don't know," Rachel said, perplexed.
"Well, think!" the professor demanded, slamming his fist on the table.
"I don't know," she cried. "I told you, it wasn't like this with me. It wasn't like this with anyone I knew who saw Samara's tape."
"It wasn't like this when I saw Sadako's tape either."
"That's it," Rachel exclaimed. "You've seen both tapes, Sadako's and now Samara's. Maybe this is what happens when you've seen both. Maybe the effect from watching both of them creates that." She pointed at the pictures.
Professor Qara stared at the disfigured images of himself on the table and nodded his head. Yes... yes, he thought to himself. That must be it. He was displeased with himself for not coming to that conclusion on his own. It made him feel inferior.
"Very well," he said and stormed out of the room. Once the door was closed behind him, Professor Qara took a deep breath in an effort to regain his composure. He needed solitude, a place for him to gather his thoughts and regain his confidence. He missed the desert. He longed for its vast, desolate landscape. That is what he truly needed. Here, in the city, even when he was alone, he could feel the people that were close at hand. A few miles' distance was not enough escape from them. He needed miles on top of miles to break free of their worries, their fears, their pain. He needed the desert.
Day 4:
Rachel wrestled with her thoughts. Deep down inside her, she knew what Professor Qara had said about the DNA was true. She didn't know how she knew but she did. Hate swelled within her. DNA or not, she refused to be Samara's mother. Samara had killed her real family. Did she kill Aidan out of jealousy? Rachel wondered. The thought of her little boy brought tears to her eyes. She wished she had never gone looking for that tape.
Why did Professor Qara watch Samara's tape? This question had been eating at Rachel for quite some time now. It kept popping up like an unwanted neighbor. She didn't understand why he would watch it. She found his previous answer unsatisfactory. Just because you survived once isn't a reason. You might not survive a second time. He was aware of what Samara was capable of. Was it because he wanted to meet his "daughter" in person? Rachel doubted this. She had no desire to meet Sadako. Samara was more than enough. There had to be another reason.
"What happened when you met Sadako?" Rachel asked Professor Qara, searching for answers.
"What do you mean?" he asked, defensively. Rachel knew she was onto something.
"I mean you were vague before. You just said that she let you live. Did she say anything to you? Did she tell you to come here and look for Samara?"
"No," he said, looking distressed. Professor Qara had stumbled onto the existence of Samara by accident, and this bothered him. Sadako had to have known about Samara. He felt that Sadako had intentionally concealed Samara from him, and this angered him.
"She didn't say anything?" Rachel then asked.
"No, nothing," Professor Qara said and then hesitated. He wondered how much he should tell Rachel. If she knew the whole truth it could be helpful when the time came, he thought to himself. "Sadako did give me something though. Actually, she gave me two things. A lock of her hair and a gift."
"A gift?" Rachel asked, curiously.
"Yes, a gift." Professor Qara looked down at the palms of his hands. "When she grabbed me, I thought it would kill me. It felt like death. Pain, the likes of which I had never felt before, assaulted my body. Sadako was sucking the life right out of me. I saw my life flash before my eyes at high speed and in reverse, but it did not stop there. When my life had completed its journey back to birth, my father's life flashed before my eyes in the same fashion. Then my father's father, and so on and so forth. One by one, I traveled through the generations of my lineage. I witnessed their lives from death to birth. The further I ventured back in time, the colder I became. I knew death was but a heartbeat away. Then everything stopped, and for that moment I drifted out of time and space. Nothing could touch me there. An eternity passed within that fraction of a second before I was shot back through time faster than the speed of light. Faces from the past whirled by at an alarming rate as I felt precious life being restored to my being. With a rush and a push I found myself once again in the present, sitting in my boat out at sea. Sadako stood before me. She was glowing like an angel against the black, starry sky. I reached out to grab her but found only air. She was gone when I awoke the next morning. All that was left of her was the lock of hair I found in my hand. I knew she left behind more than that though. I could feel it coursing in my veins, moving under my skin."
"What was it?" Rachel asked, tentatively when Professor Qara fell silent.
"A gift from Sadako. She gave me the power to control life and death with nothing more than a touch from my hand."
"What do you mean?"
"When any part of my flesh comes in contact with another person's flesh I drain the life from them and it becomes a part of me, making me stronger, extending the longevity of my own life."
"That's why you wear gloves all the time. That's not a gift. It's a curse!"
"At first, I thought so too. Never again would I be able to enjoy the simple pleasure of a gentle caress from another person. Never again would I be able to embrace another in the act of love. It saddened me. In time though, I saw the true wondrous nature of the gift that Sadako had bestowed upon me. Imagine the possibilities, Rachel. I knew then I was destined for great things, and the loss of intimacy with my fellow man was a small sacrifice to pay for that."
"That's why you want to meet Samara. You're hoping she will give you a 'gift' like Sadako did, aren't you?"
Professor Qara said nothing. He just looked at Rachel with his shining silver eyes.
"You're just like them," Rachel added. "You're a monster!"
"A monster?" Professor Qara smiled. "And what about you, Rachel? Tell me, why did you take the copies you made of Samara's tape to the video store? Why didn't you leave a note telling the people that watched them that they had to copy it and show it to someone in seven days or they would die? That is what you believed at the time anyway, is it not?"
This time Rachel remained silent.
"I'll tell you why," he said. "It was because you didn't care what happened to those people. All you cared about was yourself. If others died so you could live then that was just the way it was. Isn't that right, Rachel?"
"What about my son?" she hollered. "I tried to save his life!"
"Only because it benefited you!" he yelled back. "During your ambitious drive for personal success, Aidan was your only justification for - shall we say - your more unsavory characteristics. With him around it was easy to forget all the people you wrongfully accused or injured in your pursuit for literary fame. You would do just about anything to get the story that would further your career. Why do you think you were chosen, Rachel? Do you think Samara chose you at random, that you are the recipient of unfortunate circumstance? No, Rachel. You were chosen because you possess characteristics reminiscent of Samara herself. You are cold, calculating, and vicious. Your lack of sympathy is only matched by your ingenuity at deception."
"No, you're wrong," Rachel said, but the felt the sting of truth in Professor Qara's words. "I loved my son! I loved Aidan!"
"Now you do. Now that he is gone. When he was alive, though, you only loved the concept of having a son, someone that depended on you wholeheartedly, someone that needed you. He was nothing more than a pet, to be called on only at your convenience."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! HOW DARE YOU! YOU KNOW NOTHING! NOTHING! YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT ALL THE ANSWERS BUT YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET! I'M GOING TO ENJOY WATCHING SAMARAHHHCK..."
"I AM NOBODY'S PUPPET!" Professor Qara screamed, taking Rachel by the throat. "It is time, Rachel, that you learned some respect." With his teeth, the professor removed the glove from his remaining, free hand. "It is time you learned what it is you are truly against. It is time you learned who is in charge."
Icy pain assaulted Rachel's body as Professor Qara grabbed her arm. His face twisted with fury, Professor Qara glared into Rachel's eyes.
"Who's the puppet now, Rachel?" he asked, his nostrils flaring. "Who's the puppet now!?"
Through watery eyes, Rachel watched as Professor Qara's face got more and more screwed up in rage. He had a murderous look in his penetrating stare. She was sure he was going to kill her. Suddenly blood began pouring profusely from his nose. He recoiled in fear, releasing Rachel from his death grip. The crimson fluid flowed freely from his face, spilling onto his chest. Thunderstruck, he tried to stem the tide with his hands. The blood gushed out between his fingers in streams. With an accusatory glance at Rachel, Professor Qara fled from the room.
Day 5:
The only time Rachel saw Professor Qara was when he brought her meals. He didn't say one word to her when did this. He just dropped off what he had for her and then left immediately. In between these rare visits, Rachel heard a cacophony of activity coming from an adjoining room. There was hammering and drilling and on a couple of occasions a loud crash of shattering glass. She had no idea what the professor was doing, but she knew she would find out soon enough.
Day 6:
In complete contrast to all the racket that had gone on the preceding day, this day was smothered with an uneasy silence. Rachel suspected that something was amiss. Her suspicions were further aroused by Professor Qara's arrival. He looked disheveled. Walking like he was in a trance, Professor Qara made his way to the table and took a seat. Rachel immediately noticed that he had left the door to her room open. She thought of making a dash for it but then decided against it. She had no idea what awaited her beyond that door, and furthermore - despite the danger involved - she was curious to see the professor and Samara meet.
"In the beginning, there were rules," the professor began. "You had seven days to copy it and then show it to someone else or you would die." He stared straight ahead into dead space. His voice sounded distant as if it were being transmitting from another room. "It was then discovered that anyone who watched the tape developed a virus: seven parts smallpox and three parts Sadako's DNA. Then a report was found, and it too contained the virus. Shortly after that Sadako was reborn and once again took physical form. At this point Sadako revealed a plan to infest all mankind with her DNA, in essence creating the next step in human evolution."
Professor Qara paused and looked over at Rachel. "When I discovered this, I retreated to the desert. Not out of fear, but because I felt it necessary to find a place of solitude where I could process all the information I was receiving. It was in the desert I found a flaw in Sadako's plan. I knew it was only a matter of time before it would fail. The sands of the dunes had spoken and Sadako lost physical form once again. She was not only sent back to the spirit world but back through time as well. Her plan gone awry, Sadako grew angry. Once again trapped within the well of her demise, Sadako plotted and schemed. She reached out with her mind and - knowing that she needed another just like her - she created Samara, her sister as well as her daughter."
Again Professor Qara paused. His face, emotionless and pale, turned away from Rachel, who was at a loss for words. "Together, Sadako and Samara began their new plan. It is not unlike Sadako's original plan, but rather a revision of it. You see Sadako realized the flaw in the first one. It was too ambitious. There are other unseen forces at work and they would not allow her to evolve the entire human race, at least not so blatantly anyway. The new plan has the same objective but is far more insidious and deceptive in its execution. You see, it begins with the reality, what we now are experiencing. It is then passed on to varying participants and observers: the police, the judicial system, medical personnel, etc. Anyone who has heard even part of the reality passes it on to those around them. The people it is passed to then pass it on themselves, and so on and so forth. The reality becomes an urban legend. After all, the reality is simply too far-fetched to be real. Everyone who hears the 'urban legend' is fascinated by it. The 'urban legend' becomes immensely popular. So popular, in fact, that it is put into stories. These too become popular, and are then put into movies, television shows, etc. It spreads like wildfire, and soon millions of people have heard the story of Sadako and/or Samara."
Professor Qara turned once more to Rachel, this time with a look of resolution on his face. "What they don't know, though, is that anyone who has ever heard, read, or seen anything about Sadako and/or Samara is infected. The more they know the more infected they become. They can't help it. They are driven to find out more. As I said, they are fascinated by it. Originally Sadako's virus attacked the heart. This new virus attacks the mind. Together, they discovered that the mind was a much easier target than the heart. How it is done depends on the medium. You see, the creators of the medium - whether it is writers, directors, or even actors - they are influenced by the power of Sadako and Samara. As the virus has already infected the creators, it only stands to reason that their actions are not truly theirs. It is not they who are creating, it is Sadako and Samara. In writing, the virus works through word placement, syntax, sentence structure, and other various grammatical and punctual notations. In film and television the same principle applies but the virus also uses images and sound. Because of this, they are much more powerful in delivering the virus, not to mention more popular.
"All media work essentially the same way. The words, sounds, and/or images evoke emotional responses within the participant. These emotions release chemicals within the brain and throughout the body at an unnatural ratio, thus creating a chemical imbalance. This inevitably leads to the development of phobias, irrational insecurities, and self-induced paranoia. The participant begins to suffer from panic attacks, which in time become more frequent and harmful. The whole time this is going on, right from the very first contact the participant makes with any of the virus-spreading media, Sadako and Samara are constructing foreign DNA within the participant's body. This DNA attacks the participant's own DNA, slowly changing its gene structure. This biological war combined with the panic attacks ultimately leads to mental illness of varying degrees. It is at this point that the virus begins its final stage of metamorphosis on the participant's DNA. During this final stage, the participant will either be accepted or rejected by the virus. If accepted, the DNA will be successfully altered and the participant will recover from all mental illness and continue life within its new flesh. If rejected, the DNA will be caught within a constant state of metamorphosis and the participant will go insane, thus rendering them helpless as well as useless. Either way Sadako and Samara win."
Day 7:
With his long fingers, Professor Qara searched for the four points on the box. Finding them, he pressed all four simultaneously and the box sprang open. He pulled Sadako's lock of hair from the box and gripped it tightly. His mind wandered to the last journey he took out into the desert before coming here to America. For many days he traversed through the sweltering heat searching for answers. He had just recently discovered the possible existence of another. He did not yet know Samara by name. News of her had come to him in the form of an 'urban legend' that had made its way across the sea. His mind, so preoccupied with the thought of another, had neglected to stop him from wandering too far into the desert.
The sun beat down on him mercilessly. He had not had any water for days. After climbing a large dune, he collapsed. Death was close at hand. With every ounce of strength he could muster, Professor Qara struggled back onto his feet. He gazed out at the open desert. A lone figure standing atop another dune caught his eye. Professor Qara hollered and waved at the figure. It did not respond. Sudden realization dawned on the professor. He screwed up his eyes in an effort to see the figure in more detail. As he did this, the dune the figure was standing on melted like glass. It started at the figure's feet and trickled down the dune, forming what looked like a pool in a basin. Professor Qara rushed to the pool. When he got there the figure was gone but the pool remained. He plunged both hands into the water of the pool and brought it to his lips. Instant relief swept through his body as he drank from his hands. He felt happy and energized. He repeated the process several times, each time feeling happier and more energetic. He started to laugh hysterically. Once he calmed down, Professor Qara looked into the pool and then up at the dune where he had seen the figure. He did not believe it had been a mirage. He did not believe it then and he did not believe it now.
"Was that you, Sadako?" he asked the reflection of himself in the mirror. "Or was that Samara?"
Professor Qara put the lock of hair back into the box and closed it. Today is the day, he thought to himself. It had been a rough week for him. Many unexpected events had taken place. During the week, his confidence had waned and his fear had grown, but now that the moment was at hand he was ready and sure of himself. He was much more prepared for Samara than he had been with Sadako. With comb in hand, he slicked back his hair away from his forehead. He then adjusted his suit and stared intently at his own reflection.
"It is time," he said to Rachel after opening the door to her room.
Rachel followed Professor Qara down the hallway and into an adjoining room. She was sure that this room was the source of all the noise she heard the other day. It was a circular room - Rachel suspected that it was square before Professor Qara's modifications - and it was filled with mirrors. They were big mirrors that spanned from floor to ceiling and covered every square inch of the wall. She looked around at them, dumbstruck, and then turned to Professor Qara.
"With all these mirrors Samara will know that she is welcome here. They will also give her the illusion of freedom, both of which she is unaccustomed to. She has never felt welcome anywhere or had the freedom to do whatever she desired. I feel it will give me an advantage," he explained.
They both fell silent and waited. Rachel didn't much like the room. Professor Qara may have felt it gave him an advantage, but she felt that it was more of a disadvantage. There was no way of knowing from which direction Samara might attack. Rachel's eyes darted from mirror to mirror. Each one reflected an infinite image. Rachel found this very disconcerting. A couple of times, she thought she saw Samara out of the corner of her eye in one of the mirrors, but when she turned to see if it was true there was nothing there. Time stood still as they waited in the center of the room for Samara's arrival. A piercing screech suddenly came to Rachel's ears and she grew frantic. Her head whipped to and fro desperately looking for Samara. Then she saw her, the figure of a little girl approaching in the mirror. Rachel then noticed that all the mirrors were marking Samara's slow approach. The screech in Rachel's ears grew louder and louder the closer Samara got. She felt like her head was about to explode. Samara then reached the edge of the mirror and walked right through it into the room. Professor Qara grabbed Rachel by the arm and flung her in front of him like a shield.
"Stop!" he hollered at Samara, who was about fifteen feet away from them.
She continued to advance. With a surge of power, she was instantly five feet closer.
"I SAID, STOP!" He placed his bare hand inches away from Rachel's throat.
Samara stopped. A thick silence hung in the air.
"I know you don't want to lose another mother, Samara," Professor Qara said. "I know you still miss Anna. That is why I brought Rachel. I will do her no harm if you do me no harm. I want to help you, Samara, like when you helped me get Rachel out of the institution. Together we can achieve greatness. Together like a family."
Samara just stood there, silent.
"You know why I sought you out," he said "You know what I want, Samara. Don't forget, I am your father, and as such you should do my bidding, just as Sadako does. Now, come to daddy."
Samara remained motionless. Fear grew within Rachel. Some new evil was approaching, she could feel it. She glanced around the room furiously and then screamed. Professor Qara turned to see what she was screaming at.
"SADAKO!" he hollered and inadvertently released Rachel, who fled to the door. It was locked.
Professor Qara backed away from Sadako, who was advancing on him. Her body twisted and writhed amidst the cracking of bones as she drew ever closer to him. Samara followed suit. Rachel turned away and hid her face in her hands. Screams the likes of which she had never heard filled the room. They went on and on. Horrorstruck, Rachel crumpled to the floor. The screaming stopped. Rachel was afraid to look. She curled up, making herself as small as possible, hoping to hide from Sadako and Samara. Once again a thick silence hung in the air. Rachel peeked through her fingers. Side by side, the two girls stood there facing Rachel. Professor Qara - now an unrecognizable lump on the floor - was only a few feet away from her. She looked intently at it, trying to find some semblance of humanity. Suddenly, it jerked and exhaled a deep, rattling breath. Oh my God! He's still alive! Rachel's thoughts screamed. Sadako raised her hand and the disfigured form of Professor Qara rose from the ground awkwardly as if it was being forced to.
"He wanted to play," Samara said, sweetly. "Didn't you, daddy?"
Gurgling gasps issued forth from the professor's partially exposed esophagus. Rachel threw up at the sight of it.
"You will be our mommy, won't you?" Samara asked.
"Yes," Rachel said, trying to catch her breath. She dared not say no. She understood what had just happened. They didn't kill Professor Qara because he was their father but he had to be taught a lesson. He thought he could control them. He thought he could be in charge. They wanted to show him the error of his ways. Rachel knew they would keep him alive as long as they could. After all, he was their daddy. She didn't want the same thing to happen to her.
Rachel then saw the perfection of their plan. The girls had chosen their parents wisely: she and Professor Qara were cowards. They would never have the strength of Anna Morgan, who had escaped Samara but was now doomed to repeat her suicide for all eternity. Rachel and Professor Qara could never bring themselves to do that, not even to escape the tyranny of Sadako and Samara. The four of them would be bound to each other forever.
"Yes," Rachel repeated. "I'll be your mommy." She knew she would never be free of them.
The moment she came to, Rachel knew she was no longer in the mental institution. Antique furniture decorated the room she was in. There was a vanity with a large mirror attached to it, a high-backed chair set in front of the vanity, a small, rectangular table with two matching chairs, and a large wardrobe. Red velvet wallpaper with an intricate gold pattern stamped into it covered the four walls and the floor was highly polished wood. All in all it was a very nice room. The only thing Rachel found wrong with it was that there was no window.
Rachel got up and checked the only door to the room. It was locked, of course. Then she went to the vanity and opened its drawers. It was filled with assorted cosmetics and hygienic accessories. She then wandered over to the wardrobe and found that it contained her old clothes.
"I thought you would appreciate having your own clothes to wear," a voice from behind said.
Startled, Rachel whipped around to find Professor Qara standing in the doorway.
"I apologize, I did not mean to scare you," the professor said.
"Where am I? What am I doing here?" Rachel asked.
"You are here because I believe we can help each other," Professor Qara said. "I assure you, Rachel, I mean you no harm. If you would please have a seat then I will explain everything."
Reluctantly, Rachel sat at the table. Professor Qara followed suit.
"First things first," the professor said. "What were you doing outside the institution? How did you get there?"
Rachel didn't like Professor Qara or the situation she found herself in. She felt that his questions were prying and didn't want to answer them. However, it was obvious that he had the upper hand. She had no idea where she was or what he had planned for her. Ultimately, she decided it was best to cooperate with the professor, for the time being anyway. So she went ahead and told Professor Qara about Samara's water trail and how it led her out of the institution. It didn't matter anyway. She knew the professor wasn't going to believe a word of it.
"Interesting," he said when she was done. "Very interesting. I feel that I need to clear the air between us before we can proceed any further. I know Samara is real, Rachel. I know that everything you have ever said about her is true. And I know why she frequently visits you."
At these words, relief washed over Rachel. Finally someone believed her. She still didn't trust the professor but maybe he could really help her. "Why does she come to me?" she asked.
"In due time, Rachel. There are other more pressing issues at hand that must be dealt with. Issues that I need your help with. That is why I brought you here."
"What issues?"
"Earlier this morning I watched the Cursed Video, the copy you made of Samara's tape. I now have a week before she comes for me"
"You watched the tape? You just told me that you believed everything I ever said about Samara. So why did you watch the tape if you knew you would die in a week?"
"Because I have done it before and survived."
"Samara let you live?"
"Not exactly, Rachel. Samara is not as unique as you think. There is another like Samara. Her name is Yamamura Sadako. She is Japanese, and like Samara, she has a Cursed Video. A few years ago I watched Sadako's Cursed Video and on the seventh day after I watched it she came for me. I did not die though. Instead she let me live and a psychic link was formed between us. Not very much unlike the one that you and Samara share."
"There is another one?" Rachel's mind reeled. Samara was an abomination. How could there be another like her?
"It is difficult to accept, I know," Professor Qara said. "I will give you time to digest what I have just told you."
When the professor left, Rachel began aimlessly pacing around the room. She stopped when her eyes landed on the large mirror of the vanity. It reminded her of the night she saw Samara standing in front of the lobby mirror. Had she been talking to her own reflection or was that Sadako? Rachel took a sheet from the bed and covered the vanity mirror's face.
Day 2:
In life, Sadako and Samara were as different as any other two people. It was in death and the events that followed where many uncanny parallels were found. Both had been betrayed by one of their parents and then thrown down a well to die. Both had spent their last days alive within that dark well trying desperately to climb its stony walls in a vain attempt at escape. Rachel could deal with these similarities. They weren't anything very significant in her mind. It was what followed that she had a difficult time grasping. First came the Cursed Videos. Professor Qara explained how Sadako's was created. How she psychically projected the images from within the well to the videotape. Rachel figured this same principle probably applied to Samara. After all, Rachel had discovered the videotape at the same place where Samara's well was hidden. Professor Qara then told Rachel about Sadako's first victims, and Rachel found this most disturbing of all. Just as with Samara, Sadako's reign of terror began with four teenagers. Then Sadako's video fell into the hands of a Japanese reporter, Asakawa Reiko. Rachel felt her world begin to crumble beneath her feet as Professor Qara told her the story of Asakawa and the finding of Sadako's well. Asakawa's story sounded almost exactly like Rachel's. There were simply too many parallels for Rachel to pass off as coincidence. So when Professor Qara began to tell of events in Asakawa's story that Rachel didn't recognize in her own story, she became fearful. Is this what my future holds, she thought to herself? Was Professor Qara now telling her of events which would soon transpire in her own life? Rachel couldn't listen to another second of it.
"Stop!" she demanded and Professor Qara fell silent. "How do you know all this?"
"Some of it I know from research I have done. The rest of it, Sadako shared with me."
"She tells you things?"
"No. She shows me, in visions."
"Yes," Rachel nodded, knowingly. "Samara does the same thing to me."
"They are both very powerful beings, Rachel. What Samara did to Richard Morgan is a prime example of just how powerful and influential they can be."
"What did she do?"
"You were there, Rachel. You saw it with your own eyes."
"Are you referring to Richard Morgan's suicide?"
"Suicide?" Professor Qara said and then laughed. "Richard Morgan did not commit suicide. I thought that would have been obvious to you. Richard Morgan was a simple man. If he were to commit suicide I assure you it wouldn't have been that elaborate. Not to mention all the telltale signs of Samara's involvement in his death: the tub full of water like a well, the horse bit in his mouth, electrodes covering his body, and, of course, the use of electricity as the means of death. No, Rachel, it was not suicide. Samara killed him, and in the process of doing so, she made him suffer as she felt he made her suffer. All the years she spent in therapy where she regularly received electroshock treatment, all the nights she spent alone in the barn with restless horses, Samara blamed him for all of it. So when the time came to exact her revenge, Samara wanted to let him know how she felt about it all."
"She made Richard Morgan kill himself? What about Anna, her mother? Did Samara kill her too?"
"No, I don't think so," Professor Qara said, assuredly. "I believe that Anna Morgan's suicide was genuine. Samara was in Anna's head, even after Samara's death. Samara enjoyed tormenting her. That much is evident. Anna Morgan simply couldn't take it anymore. She felt that death was the only way out."
"So she jumped off that cliff to escape from Samara?"
"Yes. She knew Samara would never leave her alone. She was Samara's favorite toy, so to speak. I am sure Samara tried to stop Anna from jumping, and it probably took every ounce of Anna's strength to fight off Samara's influence over her. Ultimately, Anna succeeded in finding the freedom from Samara she so desperately desired. However, in doing so I believe she now suffers a fate far worse: to forever repeat her suicide, over and over, until the end of time."
A shiver ran down Rachel's spine as she thought about what it would be like to relive one's own death for all eternity. "And what about Richard Morgan?" she asked after a long pause.
"What about him?"
"If Samara killed him then why did she wait so long to do it?"
A smile came to Professor Qara's face. "Because of you, Rachel," he then said.
"Me? What did I do?"
"It is not what you did. It is what you were going to do. Samara needed to establish a connection. For that she needed Richard Morgan. She knew you would go looking to him for answers. She knew that you would find the tape of her from the institution. She knew you would blame him as she did, and that was the connection. Once that happened she no longer needed him, and, as you witnessed, she wasted no time in exacting her revenge upon him."
"Connection?" Rachel said, her voice trembling. "What connection?"
"You have been chosen, Rachel, just as I was. Sadako chose me as their father and Samara chose you as their mother. I find it most interesting that each chose the parent that led to their demise. Even though I don't think they view it that way. I get the impression they feel that in death they found life, eternal life."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I am talking about you, me, and our two daughters: Sadako and Samara."
"They are not my daughters," Rachel said, disgustedly.
"Why, because you did not give physical birth to them? Do really think that matters? You have seen only a fraction of what they are capable of. I will let you in on a little secret, Rachel. They are not just inside your head. They are now a part of your whole being. Their DNA has been mixed with yours, just as it has been with mine. Like I said, Rachel, you were chosen. You are their mother. I am their father. And we are a family."
Day 3:
"He's coming," Samara said and then pointed to the door.
"Who is it, Samara? Who's coming?" Rachel asked.
"Daddy," she answered with a smile.
Professor Qara flung the door to Rachel's room open and threw several pictures on the table.
"Explain these," he demanded.
With caution, Rachel got up from bed and approached the table. She gasped when she looked at the pictures.
"What are these pictures of?" she asked, quickly looking away from them.
"They are pictures of me," Professor Qara said.
"Why are they so messed up?"
"You tell me. That is why you are here, to help me. You have been through this before."
"Yes, I have, but I never looked like that in any of the pictures that were taken of me. I mean, they were warped and blurry but nothing like that, nothing that extreme."
She glanced back down at the pictures on the table. Each one showed a fleshy blob that was warped and mangled beyond recognition. None of them looked even remotely like a person. An unadulterated eye in one of the pictures was the only semblance of anything human from the whole lot.
"What do you think it means?" Professor Qara asked.
"I don't know," Rachel said, perplexed.
"Well, think!" the professor demanded, slamming his fist on the table.
"I don't know," she cried. "I told you, it wasn't like this with me. It wasn't like this with anyone I knew who saw Samara's tape."
"It wasn't like this when I saw Sadako's tape either."
"That's it," Rachel exclaimed. "You've seen both tapes, Sadako's and now Samara's. Maybe this is what happens when you've seen both. Maybe the effect from watching both of them creates that." She pointed at the pictures.
Professor Qara stared at the disfigured images of himself on the table and nodded his head. Yes... yes, he thought to himself. That must be it. He was displeased with himself for not coming to that conclusion on his own. It made him feel inferior.
"Very well," he said and stormed out of the room. Once the door was closed behind him, Professor Qara took a deep breath in an effort to regain his composure. He needed solitude, a place for him to gather his thoughts and regain his confidence. He missed the desert. He longed for its vast, desolate landscape. That is what he truly needed. Here, in the city, even when he was alone, he could feel the people that were close at hand. A few miles' distance was not enough escape from them. He needed miles on top of miles to break free of their worries, their fears, their pain. He needed the desert.
Day 4:
Rachel wrestled with her thoughts. Deep down inside her, she knew what Professor Qara had said about the DNA was true. She didn't know how she knew but she did. Hate swelled within her. DNA or not, she refused to be Samara's mother. Samara had killed her real family. Did she kill Aidan out of jealousy? Rachel wondered. The thought of her little boy brought tears to her eyes. She wished she had never gone looking for that tape.
Why did Professor Qara watch Samara's tape? This question had been eating at Rachel for quite some time now. It kept popping up like an unwanted neighbor. She didn't understand why he would watch it. She found his previous answer unsatisfactory. Just because you survived once isn't a reason. You might not survive a second time. He was aware of what Samara was capable of. Was it because he wanted to meet his "daughter" in person? Rachel doubted this. She had no desire to meet Sadako. Samara was more than enough. There had to be another reason.
"What happened when you met Sadako?" Rachel asked Professor Qara, searching for answers.
"What do you mean?" he asked, defensively. Rachel knew she was onto something.
"I mean you were vague before. You just said that she let you live. Did she say anything to you? Did she tell you to come here and look for Samara?"
"No," he said, looking distressed. Professor Qara had stumbled onto the existence of Samara by accident, and this bothered him. Sadako had to have known about Samara. He felt that Sadako had intentionally concealed Samara from him, and this angered him.
"She didn't say anything?" Rachel then asked.
"No, nothing," Professor Qara said and then hesitated. He wondered how much he should tell Rachel. If she knew the whole truth it could be helpful when the time came, he thought to himself. "Sadako did give me something though. Actually, she gave me two things. A lock of her hair and a gift."
"A gift?" Rachel asked, curiously.
"Yes, a gift." Professor Qara looked down at the palms of his hands. "When she grabbed me, I thought it would kill me. It felt like death. Pain, the likes of which I had never felt before, assaulted my body. Sadako was sucking the life right out of me. I saw my life flash before my eyes at high speed and in reverse, but it did not stop there. When my life had completed its journey back to birth, my father's life flashed before my eyes in the same fashion. Then my father's father, and so on and so forth. One by one, I traveled through the generations of my lineage. I witnessed their lives from death to birth. The further I ventured back in time, the colder I became. I knew death was but a heartbeat away. Then everything stopped, and for that moment I drifted out of time and space. Nothing could touch me there. An eternity passed within that fraction of a second before I was shot back through time faster than the speed of light. Faces from the past whirled by at an alarming rate as I felt precious life being restored to my being. With a rush and a push I found myself once again in the present, sitting in my boat out at sea. Sadako stood before me. She was glowing like an angel against the black, starry sky. I reached out to grab her but found only air. She was gone when I awoke the next morning. All that was left of her was the lock of hair I found in my hand. I knew she left behind more than that though. I could feel it coursing in my veins, moving under my skin."
"What was it?" Rachel asked, tentatively when Professor Qara fell silent.
"A gift from Sadako. She gave me the power to control life and death with nothing more than a touch from my hand."
"What do you mean?"
"When any part of my flesh comes in contact with another person's flesh I drain the life from them and it becomes a part of me, making me stronger, extending the longevity of my own life."
"That's why you wear gloves all the time. That's not a gift. It's a curse!"
"At first, I thought so too. Never again would I be able to enjoy the simple pleasure of a gentle caress from another person. Never again would I be able to embrace another in the act of love. It saddened me. In time though, I saw the true wondrous nature of the gift that Sadako had bestowed upon me. Imagine the possibilities, Rachel. I knew then I was destined for great things, and the loss of intimacy with my fellow man was a small sacrifice to pay for that."
"That's why you want to meet Samara. You're hoping she will give you a 'gift' like Sadako did, aren't you?"
Professor Qara said nothing. He just looked at Rachel with his shining silver eyes.
"You're just like them," Rachel added. "You're a monster!"
"A monster?" Professor Qara smiled. "And what about you, Rachel? Tell me, why did you take the copies you made of Samara's tape to the video store? Why didn't you leave a note telling the people that watched them that they had to copy it and show it to someone in seven days or they would die? That is what you believed at the time anyway, is it not?"
This time Rachel remained silent.
"I'll tell you why," he said. "It was because you didn't care what happened to those people. All you cared about was yourself. If others died so you could live then that was just the way it was. Isn't that right, Rachel?"
"What about my son?" she hollered. "I tried to save his life!"
"Only because it benefited you!" he yelled back. "During your ambitious drive for personal success, Aidan was your only justification for - shall we say - your more unsavory characteristics. With him around it was easy to forget all the people you wrongfully accused or injured in your pursuit for literary fame. You would do just about anything to get the story that would further your career. Why do you think you were chosen, Rachel? Do you think Samara chose you at random, that you are the recipient of unfortunate circumstance? No, Rachel. You were chosen because you possess characteristics reminiscent of Samara herself. You are cold, calculating, and vicious. Your lack of sympathy is only matched by your ingenuity at deception."
"No, you're wrong," Rachel said, but the felt the sting of truth in Professor Qara's words. "I loved my son! I loved Aidan!"
"Now you do. Now that he is gone. When he was alive, though, you only loved the concept of having a son, someone that depended on you wholeheartedly, someone that needed you. He was nothing more than a pet, to be called on only at your convenience."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! HOW DARE YOU! YOU KNOW NOTHING! NOTHING! YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT ALL THE ANSWERS BUT YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET! I'M GOING TO ENJOY WATCHING SAMARAHHHCK..."
"I AM NOBODY'S PUPPET!" Professor Qara screamed, taking Rachel by the throat. "It is time, Rachel, that you learned some respect." With his teeth, the professor removed the glove from his remaining, free hand. "It is time you learned what it is you are truly against. It is time you learned who is in charge."
Icy pain assaulted Rachel's body as Professor Qara grabbed her arm. His face twisted with fury, Professor Qara glared into Rachel's eyes.
"Who's the puppet now, Rachel?" he asked, his nostrils flaring. "Who's the puppet now!?"
Through watery eyes, Rachel watched as Professor Qara's face got more and more screwed up in rage. He had a murderous look in his penetrating stare. She was sure he was going to kill her. Suddenly blood began pouring profusely from his nose. He recoiled in fear, releasing Rachel from his death grip. The crimson fluid flowed freely from his face, spilling onto his chest. Thunderstruck, he tried to stem the tide with his hands. The blood gushed out between his fingers in streams. With an accusatory glance at Rachel, Professor Qara fled from the room.
Day 5:
The only time Rachel saw Professor Qara was when he brought her meals. He didn't say one word to her when did this. He just dropped off what he had for her and then left immediately. In between these rare visits, Rachel heard a cacophony of activity coming from an adjoining room. There was hammering and drilling and on a couple of occasions a loud crash of shattering glass. She had no idea what the professor was doing, but she knew she would find out soon enough.
Day 6:
In complete contrast to all the racket that had gone on the preceding day, this day was smothered with an uneasy silence. Rachel suspected that something was amiss. Her suspicions were further aroused by Professor Qara's arrival. He looked disheveled. Walking like he was in a trance, Professor Qara made his way to the table and took a seat. Rachel immediately noticed that he had left the door to her room open. She thought of making a dash for it but then decided against it. She had no idea what awaited her beyond that door, and furthermore - despite the danger involved - she was curious to see the professor and Samara meet.
"In the beginning, there were rules," the professor began. "You had seven days to copy it and then show it to someone else or you would die." He stared straight ahead into dead space. His voice sounded distant as if it were being transmitting from another room. "It was then discovered that anyone who watched the tape developed a virus: seven parts smallpox and three parts Sadako's DNA. Then a report was found, and it too contained the virus. Shortly after that Sadako was reborn and once again took physical form. At this point Sadako revealed a plan to infest all mankind with her DNA, in essence creating the next step in human evolution."
Professor Qara paused and looked over at Rachel. "When I discovered this, I retreated to the desert. Not out of fear, but because I felt it necessary to find a place of solitude where I could process all the information I was receiving. It was in the desert I found a flaw in Sadako's plan. I knew it was only a matter of time before it would fail. The sands of the dunes had spoken and Sadako lost physical form once again. She was not only sent back to the spirit world but back through time as well. Her plan gone awry, Sadako grew angry. Once again trapped within the well of her demise, Sadako plotted and schemed. She reached out with her mind and - knowing that she needed another just like her - she created Samara, her sister as well as her daughter."
Again Professor Qara paused. His face, emotionless and pale, turned away from Rachel, who was at a loss for words. "Together, Sadako and Samara began their new plan. It is not unlike Sadako's original plan, but rather a revision of it. You see Sadako realized the flaw in the first one. It was too ambitious. There are other unseen forces at work and they would not allow her to evolve the entire human race, at least not so blatantly anyway. The new plan has the same objective but is far more insidious and deceptive in its execution. You see, it begins with the reality, what we now are experiencing. It is then passed on to varying participants and observers: the police, the judicial system, medical personnel, etc. Anyone who has heard even part of the reality passes it on to those around them. The people it is passed to then pass it on themselves, and so on and so forth. The reality becomes an urban legend. After all, the reality is simply too far-fetched to be real. Everyone who hears the 'urban legend' is fascinated by it. The 'urban legend' becomes immensely popular. So popular, in fact, that it is put into stories. These too become popular, and are then put into movies, television shows, etc. It spreads like wildfire, and soon millions of people have heard the story of Sadako and/or Samara."
Professor Qara turned once more to Rachel, this time with a look of resolution on his face. "What they don't know, though, is that anyone who has ever heard, read, or seen anything about Sadako and/or Samara is infected. The more they know the more infected they become. They can't help it. They are driven to find out more. As I said, they are fascinated by it. Originally Sadako's virus attacked the heart. This new virus attacks the mind. Together, they discovered that the mind was a much easier target than the heart. How it is done depends on the medium. You see, the creators of the medium - whether it is writers, directors, or even actors - they are influenced by the power of Sadako and Samara. As the virus has already infected the creators, it only stands to reason that their actions are not truly theirs. It is not they who are creating, it is Sadako and Samara. In writing, the virus works through word placement, syntax, sentence structure, and other various grammatical and punctual notations. In film and television the same principle applies but the virus also uses images and sound. Because of this, they are much more powerful in delivering the virus, not to mention more popular.
"All media work essentially the same way. The words, sounds, and/or images evoke emotional responses within the participant. These emotions release chemicals within the brain and throughout the body at an unnatural ratio, thus creating a chemical imbalance. This inevitably leads to the development of phobias, irrational insecurities, and self-induced paranoia. The participant begins to suffer from panic attacks, which in time become more frequent and harmful. The whole time this is going on, right from the very first contact the participant makes with any of the virus-spreading media, Sadako and Samara are constructing foreign DNA within the participant's body. This DNA attacks the participant's own DNA, slowly changing its gene structure. This biological war combined with the panic attacks ultimately leads to mental illness of varying degrees. It is at this point that the virus begins its final stage of metamorphosis on the participant's DNA. During this final stage, the participant will either be accepted or rejected by the virus. If accepted, the DNA will be successfully altered and the participant will recover from all mental illness and continue life within its new flesh. If rejected, the DNA will be caught within a constant state of metamorphosis and the participant will go insane, thus rendering them helpless as well as useless. Either way Sadako and Samara win."
Day 7:
With his long fingers, Professor Qara searched for the four points on the box. Finding them, he pressed all four simultaneously and the box sprang open. He pulled Sadako's lock of hair from the box and gripped it tightly. His mind wandered to the last journey he took out into the desert before coming here to America. For many days he traversed through the sweltering heat searching for answers. He had just recently discovered the possible existence of another. He did not yet know Samara by name. News of her had come to him in the form of an 'urban legend' that had made its way across the sea. His mind, so preoccupied with the thought of another, had neglected to stop him from wandering too far into the desert.
The sun beat down on him mercilessly. He had not had any water for days. After climbing a large dune, he collapsed. Death was close at hand. With every ounce of strength he could muster, Professor Qara struggled back onto his feet. He gazed out at the open desert. A lone figure standing atop another dune caught his eye. Professor Qara hollered and waved at the figure. It did not respond. Sudden realization dawned on the professor. He screwed up his eyes in an effort to see the figure in more detail. As he did this, the dune the figure was standing on melted like glass. It started at the figure's feet and trickled down the dune, forming what looked like a pool in a basin. Professor Qara rushed to the pool. When he got there the figure was gone but the pool remained. He plunged both hands into the water of the pool and brought it to his lips. Instant relief swept through his body as he drank from his hands. He felt happy and energized. He repeated the process several times, each time feeling happier and more energetic. He started to laugh hysterically. Once he calmed down, Professor Qara looked into the pool and then up at the dune where he had seen the figure. He did not believe it had been a mirage. He did not believe it then and he did not believe it now.
"Was that you, Sadako?" he asked the reflection of himself in the mirror. "Or was that Samara?"
Professor Qara put the lock of hair back into the box and closed it. Today is the day, he thought to himself. It had been a rough week for him. Many unexpected events had taken place. During the week, his confidence had waned and his fear had grown, but now that the moment was at hand he was ready and sure of himself. He was much more prepared for Samara than he had been with Sadako. With comb in hand, he slicked back his hair away from his forehead. He then adjusted his suit and stared intently at his own reflection.
"It is time," he said to Rachel after opening the door to her room.
Rachel followed Professor Qara down the hallway and into an adjoining room. She was sure that this room was the source of all the noise she heard the other day. It was a circular room - Rachel suspected that it was square before Professor Qara's modifications - and it was filled with mirrors. They were big mirrors that spanned from floor to ceiling and covered every square inch of the wall. She looked around at them, dumbstruck, and then turned to Professor Qara.
"With all these mirrors Samara will know that she is welcome here. They will also give her the illusion of freedom, both of which she is unaccustomed to. She has never felt welcome anywhere or had the freedom to do whatever she desired. I feel it will give me an advantage," he explained.
They both fell silent and waited. Rachel didn't much like the room. Professor Qara may have felt it gave him an advantage, but she felt that it was more of a disadvantage. There was no way of knowing from which direction Samara might attack. Rachel's eyes darted from mirror to mirror. Each one reflected an infinite image. Rachel found this very disconcerting. A couple of times, she thought she saw Samara out of the corner of her eye in one of the mirrors, but when she turned to see if it was true there was nothing there. Time stood still as they waited in the center of the room for Samara's arrival. A piercing screech suddenly came to Rachel's ears and she grew frantic. Her head whipped to and fro desperately looking for Samara. Then she saw her, the figure of a little girl approaching in the mirror. Rachel then noticed that all the mirrors were marking Samara's slow approach. The screech in Rachel's ears grew louder and louder the closer Samara got. She felt like her head was about to explode. Samara then reached the edge of the mirror and walked right through it into the room. Professor Qara grabbed Rachel by the arm and flung her in front of him like a shield.
"Stop!" he hollered at Samara, who was about fifteen feet away from them.
She continued to advance. With a surge of power, she was instantly five feet closer.
"I SAID, STOP!" He placed his bare hand inches away from Rachel's throat.
Samara stopped. A thick silence hung in the air.
"I know you don't want to lose another mother, Samara," Professor Qara said. "I know you still miss Anna. That is why I brought Rachel. I will do her no harm if you do me no harm. I want to help you, Samara, like when you helped me get Rachel out of the institution. Together we can achieve greatness. Together like a family."
Samara just stood there, silent.
"You know why I sought you out," he said "You know what I want, Samara. Don't forget, I am your father, and as such you should do my bidding, just as Sadako does. Now, come to daddy."
Samara remained motionless. Fear grew within Rachel. Some new evil was approaching, she could feel it. She glanced around the room furiously and then screamed. Professor Qara turned to see what she was screaming at.
"SADAKO!" he hollered and inadvertently released Rachel, who fled to the door. It was locked.
Professor Qara backed away from Sadako, who was advancing on him. Her body twisted and writhed amidst the cracking of bones as she drew ever closer to him. Samara followed suit. Rachel turned away and hid her face in her hands. Screams the likes of which she had never heard filled the room. They went on and on. Horrorstruck, Rachel crumpled to the floor. The screaming stopped. Rachel was afraid to look. She curled up, making herself as small as possible, hoping to hide from Sadako and Samara. Once again a thick silence hung in the air. Rachel peeked through her fingers. Side by side, the two girls stood there facing Rachel. Professor Qara - now an unrecognizable lump on the floor - was only a few feet away from her. She looked intently at it, trying to find some semblance of humanity. Suddenly, it jerked and exhaled a deep, rattling breath. Oh my God! He's still alive! Rachel's thoughts screamed. Sadako raised her hand and the disfigured form of Professor Qara rose from the ground awkwardly as if it was being forced to.
"He wanted to play," Samara said, sweetly. "Didn't you, daddy?"
Gurgling gasps issued forth from the professor's partially exposed esophagus. Rachel threw up at the sight of it.
"You will be our mommy, won't you?" Samara asked.
"Yes," Rachel said, trying to catch her breath. She dared not say no. She understood what had just happened. They didn't kill Professor Qara because he was their father but he had to be taught a lesson. He thought he could control them. He thought he could be in charge. They wanted to show him the error of his ways. Rachel knew they would keep him alive as long as they could. After all, he was their daddy. She didn't want the same thing to happen to her.
Rachel then saw the perfection of their plan. The girls had chosen their parents wisely: she and Professor Qara were cowards. They would never have the strength of Anna Morgan, who had escaped Samara but was now doomed to repeat her suicide for all eternity. Rachel and Professor Qara could never bring themselves to do that, not even to escape the tyranny of Sadako and Samara. The four of them would be bound to each other forever.
"Yes," Rachel repeated. "I'll be your mommy." She knew she would never be free of them.
