Author's Note:  O.K., guys, it's coming down to the end.  Thank you ALL for the reviews, the e-mails, the instant messages, it really motivated me to write as quickly as I could.  This is the next to the last chapter – and here is a treat for you, my faithful readers.  You will choose the ending.  Sometime in the next few days, I will upload two chapters at the same time.  Each an ending, each different, and your choice.

Some of you figured out Alex's ending and thought it a little predictable, well, it really wasn't meant as a huge surprise, I mean, if your not careful, babies happen – I'm just glad that, all in all, you liked the idea of these two having one of their own.

Let's see, what else…Oh, I'm using another song in this chapter.  Actually, after I started to take this story seriously, I was listening to it and this entire scene played itself out in my mind.  The song is called "Let it Go" and it is by the band "Destrophy."  Awesome band, awesome album by the name "Chrysalis."

O.K., I'm done blabbing.  Oh, I think that I managed a decent twist in this chapter.  Please let me know what you think and as soon as I get one of the endings done (one's already written), I'll upload them

***

Alex and Julia had gone out with Karen, leaving Mort with some time to himself.  The sun streamed in through the picture window in his office; one of the rays striking the diamond ring that sat on his desk.  The heart shaped stone sent small flecks of color onto the ceiling, as well as the open velvet box it resided in.

Mort and Alex had been going to their joint therapy sessions for two months and Alex, in Mort's eyes, had been nothing short of amazing.  She thought of questions to ask that Mort hadn't and offered insight that only could have come from someone so close to him.  The new medication was working wonders as well.  No Shooter.  Not one accent laden thought had slipped into Mort's mind.  The threat seemed to be gone.

As if all of this wasn't enough, Mort's writing was flourishing again.  He had started a new novel that he gladly based on his life, the idea of which never sat so well with him before (especially since "Secret Window" was written and revised).  The story of love, deceit, betrayal, and starting a life over again was given a few twists, but was destined for a happy ending – again, something that Mort's stories rarely included.  More than anything, this story was therapeutic for Mort.

School was out for the summer, which gave Alex and Mort more time together.  Her pregnancy was showing, quite obviously, on her small frame now, and Mort found that he had a hard time keeping his hands away from her stomach.  In a few months, he'd be a father…and he was more than ready to be a husband again.

Mort had the evening all planned out.  A romantic dinner – careful to avoid the foods that, at this stage, made Alex a bit queasy – then a trip to the overlook of the city, where Alex loved to go.  A traditional "get down on one knee and profess your love" proposal – that's what he wanted.  He already knew her answer, they had already discussed marriage…he simply wanted to go about things the "right" way.

It don' matter none, Mr. Rainey.  She'll go too.  Shooter's voice boomed in Mort's head.

Mort froze, his eyes fixated on the engagement ring.  "There is no possible way in hell that I just heard that," he insisted to himself.

Shooter laughed dryly.  Don' know how long it's gonna take to convince you that I ain' leavin'.  I'm here 'cause you need me.  No medicine, no woman will make me go away for too long.

Fed up, Mort rose from his chair and walked to the bookshelves.  In an attempt to drown out Shooter's voice, he turned on the stereo system on the middle shelf and turned the volume knob up almost the entire way.  Ironically, the song that came blaring out of the speakers was far more than fitting.

All I want is everything
And everyone listens when I say
All I want is everyone
To understand everything I've done
So why am I numb
And how can it be that it hurts so much
Who am I? I'm what you are
Whenever you strip off your makeup

You can't drown me out, Mr. Rainey.  She knows far too much about me.  She's tellin' that doctor things that only we should know.  She's gotten in the way of our business.

"We don't have any business!" Mort screamed.  "Get the fuck out of my head!"

Fine.  Shooter materialized in front of Mort.  "Out enough for you, Mr. Rainey?"

"Jesus, no…"  Mort backed up, terrified.

Have I said too much?
How can I stop when I've nothing to trust
So I've become numb
From probing the inside of me

"You took my life away from me years ago, Mr. Rainey.  It was such a good story, such a good life and you went and hit that blasted 'delete' key and took it all away.  Then you thought that wasn' enough and you burned what was left of me!  You burned my life, why do you think I'm so keen on havin' yours?"

And all I want
Is to be like you
It never ends
And will be always
And all I need
Is to see this through
Then you and me
We will be always

            "This…this isn't real.  You're nothing!"  Mort's voice was desperate.  "I am the only one who can live my life!"

            "I was happy with my life – until you destroyed it.  You gave me a second chance to live after I died then took it away from me!"

            Mort was more confused than he'd ever been. "Wh-what are you…"  He grabbed the sides of his head and gritted his teeth.  "What's going on?"

            "You bought my hat, Mr. Rainey.  Do you remember that?"  Shooter smiled.  "O' course you do.  You were with Amy…I ne'er liked her.  Made killin' her far more fun for me."

            "No…no this isn't real.  You are not real!"

            "You put on my hat, Mr. Rainey, and I entered your mind – I've been there ever since.  You didn't create me.  You weren't writin' no story about me, you were writin' my life.  Everything I did.  I told you everything to put into that damned computer o' yours.  It was too much for you though, you couldn't accept what I'd done, so you stopped writin'.  You killed me again, Mr. Rainey."  Mort shook his head, trying to push out all of what he was being told.  "You're not sick, I simply want another chance at life, and I'm doin' it by takin' yours.  I stayed away long enough to make you think that you were 'fine' – and I s'pose you are.  I s'pose you always have been, since I'm the one who's been doin' all the killin'."

            "What the fuck are you?"  Mort knew he didn't have to ask.  He never believed in such things, but he couldn't help but feel relief.  He wasn't sick.  He wasn't delusional.  He wasn't psychotic.  He was, however, the plaything of a dead psychopath.

Wake up
I'll never be like you
Slither and suffer in me always

Wake up
I'll never be like you
Slither and suffer in me always

            Shooter smiled again.  "Now, I know that brain o' yours has put everythin' together, Mr. Rainey.  You remember when I told you that you stole my story?  I wasn't lyin'.  I killed my wife," he laughed, "killed lots o' people, actually, and buried her in her own damn garden.  I got caught though, you see.  That's how I died, I got caught and I hung for it."  Mort couldn't respond.  "But then you came along and for the longest time, Mr. Rainey, I couldn't get through to you after you destroyed the story of my life…but then your life fell apart. You found out about your wife's affair and in I stepped.  I thought that gun was loaded, my mistake, but I made up for it later, yes indeed."

            "You…you made me bring that gun?"

            Shooter nodded.  "And I've helped you, Mr. Rainey.  Took care of that cheatin' wife o' yours, as well as the man who took your place in her bed.  It was so much easier to get you to let me out then.  You were weak.  That's why you need to be alone."

            Mort wasn't going to let this…thing, whatever it truly was, take over his body, his life.  "That's precisely why I refuse to be alone!"

            "You're not meant to be a social creature, you lock yourself up to write…"

            "No!  Not anymore!  Not with her!  Not with Julia!  Not…not with the baby!"  Angry tears streamed down Mort's face.

            The song played on.  Denial

            "I'll be getting rid of them too.  Every one of them," Shooter threatened.  He rushed toward Mort and grabbed his shoulders roughly.  "They'll all die!"  Shooter's voice calmed.  "Already had my way with your girl, remember?  She has some spunk."

            A liar

            Mort screamed and pushed Shooter away – he went to his desk and began to search through the drawers.  "You are not me!" he yelled.  "You will not harm my family or take over my life!"  Everything Shooter made Mort do came crashing into his brain at full speed.  Chico, Tom, Ken, Amy, Ted…the garden, the corn.  He fell to his knees, sobbing.  There was no inner voice telling him what to do this time.  "You made me do…"

            "You squirmed somethin' fierce, but I won out in the end, Mr. Rainey, and I'm gonna do it again."

            Mort wiped his eyes.  "Only me?  I'm the only one you can do this too?"

            Shooter looked puzzled for a moment.  "You're the one who took my hat.  You're the one that knows my life story.  I s'pose that's why I can't find someone more willin' to let me in."

            "I won't."  Still on his knees, Mort found what he had been searching for.  This time, there were bullets.

It's time to let it go

It's time to let it go
It's time to let it go
It's time to let it go

And it's all I want
And I need it so

And it's all I want
And I need it so