Dream: WHOA! I can't believe it! I actually got reviews! AND THEY WERE GOOD ONES SO SOON! Yay! (does little happy dance gyrating around and waving arms like some crazy cult member) Apparently, most of you were unhappy with the way that my story ended, so by popular demand I give you a continuum!

Spike: Well, what'd you expect? My public loves me!

Dream: Or maybe they just want to see you die!

Spike: Shut up, haven't you put me through enough already?

Dream: Maybe . . . . . oh yah, and small note to Deathdragon: SPIKE DID NOT GET RAPED IN CHAPTER 10! Anyway, on to the disclaimer, which I realize I didn't put in the last chapter, DON'T SUE ME!

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, any of the related merchandise, or a condo in Tokyo, though I would like to!

My Funny Valentine: Chapter 11 . . . . . "Each Day is Valentine's Day Part 2"

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"GET THE HELL OFF ME", Spike yelled as Obsession dragged him down the hallway.

When he had been pinned down, Spike had been certain that he would be killed; he had seen the same lust for blood in Obsession's eyes as he had seen many times before. However, Obsession had just smiled after his message had been whispered into Spike's ear and feeling the shiver go down the younger man's back, he had straightened up. Spike had begun more of his mad thrashing; trying in any way possible to escape the fate that he was sure was coming. "I suppose this is what people meant when they said that Karma would be coming back to bite me in the ass", he had thought to himself. It was then that he felt Obsession moving above him and his whole body had gone rigid, bracing itself for whatever was coming. However, he had just felt something cold go around his wrists and then Obsession had gotten up off him.

"C'mon love, up up up," Obsession had said cheerfully, grabbing a fist full of Spike's hair and dragging him to his feet, "we have so much to do and so little time!" Spike had unwillingly gotten to his feet, stumbling as he did as he realized that he also had manacles on his feet, giving him only a short walking stride. Obsession had released Spike's hair after he had regained his balance and hooked his arm around Spike's, leading him down the hallway. "Now we're like a couple," Obsession had sighed, leaning his head on Spike's shoulder, "we can just imagine that this gloomy hallway is some kind of tree-lined street that belongs to just the two of us."

"Oh please", Spike had grumbled, and with that he knocked over Obsession with a heavy shove. He tried to run down the hallway, away from Obsession and his sick ideas, but he had only gotten about twenty paces away before he had tripped over his own feet. "Dammit," Spike had said under his breath as he had tried to get to his feet, but found that the task was too tricky for his time. Obsession had come up behind him and, grabbing another fist full of Spike's hair, began dragging him down the hallway, and that's what he was still doing. Spike had been dragged down two hallways and a flight of stairs by nothing but his hair roots. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS," Spike yelled as Obsession dragged him through a doorway into a dark room.

"Because you refused to get into the romantic mood needed for this special day," Obsession said with a heavy soap-opera sigh, "I decided to give you a small lesson in 'you always hurt the one you love'. Now then, I won't have to do that again if you agree to behave!"

"Bite me", Spike growled as Obsession came towards him, taking a key out of his pocket as he came.

"We'll save that for later sweetie", Obsession said, dragging Spike over towards the center of the room in which the lights had not come on in. All that Spike could see with the limited amount of light that came in from the hallway was that there was a table in the center with a white sheet covering it. Obsession, still holding onto Spike's leg with one hand, reached onto the table with the other and pulled something black off of it. He then crawled over to Spike's head, the black thing now reveled as a piece of cloth trailing behind him, and propping Spike's head up with his knees, tied the cloth around Spike's head. Spike didn't necessarily go for THAT either, the entire time he was flopping around like a fish out of water. Obsession gave a small giggle, "You're cute when you're angry", and Spike felt Obsession's lips connect with his for a few seconds. Right after the lips went away from his face, Spike spit upwards in disgust, only guessing and hoping that he had hit Obsession full in the face.

Apparently he was correct as Obsession slapped him across the right side of his face, "that wasn't very nice lover!"

"Kiss me again and you'll get more then spit in your face, you'll get a FIST," Spike retorted.

"Well then, we'll have to be sure to keep these on then, won't we," Obsession said calmly, giving the handcuffs around Spike's wrists a yank. Spike gave Obsession the "one-fingered salute", though he doubted Obsession saw it since Spike was lying on his hands. He heard Obsession get up off the floor and walk on over to the door, and hearing a click, the black that had been in front of Spike's eyes became a grey, indicating that the lights were now on. Obsession came back over, lifting Spike off of the ground by grabbing him underneath his shoulders, and dragged him over a few feet, then sitting him down in a chair. He felt the manacles being removed from his feet, but before he could even react and kick, Obsession had put two other chains around his ankles. Next Obsession grabbed him by his wrists and removed the handcuffs. He then brought them around to the front and cuffed them to the table. Finally the blindfold was removed and Spike's eyes only took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

The room had been redone by the decorator from hell it seemed. It was tasteful, but everything was way too red for Spike's liking. The florescent lights overhead had been painted over with some kind of translucent color so that the whole room was enveloped in a red haze. Heart-shaped red, white, and pink balloons were floating all around the room and the walls were covered in hearts that were painted with what Spike had the sickening feeling was blood from the odor and the way that the hearts dripped menacingly. The table was set with shining silverware and plates that reflected the images around the room in their circular distorted ways. There were two candlesticks also set up on the table with the candles on them unlit at the moment, along with a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket.

"The typical romantic evening huh", Spike mumbled to himself. He looked directly across from him to where Obsession was seated. Obsession had the sick love-struck look in his eye that Spike had seen before in chick flicks, and loathed and despised. "Stop that", he growled.

"Stop what honey", Obsession asked with a look of innocent shock on his face. The thought then occurred to Spike for the millionth time since this whole business had started that this guy was truly twisted; he didn't even realize that any of this was wrong. He just sat there sighing at him like a girl with a high-school crush on the boy sitting in front of her in Math class. Spike let out a sigh through his teeth, casting his eyes down. He was becoming nauseous by the mere sight of that man. He decided to focus yet again on trying to get free. However, that task seemed bleak. His hands were tied down so close to the table that the only thing that Spike could do with them was pick up the silverware. Spike tried tugging anyway, but soon discovered how futile it was. "Is something wrong sweetie? You seem distressed", Obsession said, reaching his hand across the table and touching Spike's hand. Spike's face flinched and he tried to pull away, but his handcuffs would only let him pull away about a foot.

"And what reason would I have not to be distressed," Spike yelled at Obsession, straining against his bonds, "You kill my friends, desecrate the ship, stalk and kidnap me, you KISSED me for Christ sake! What makes you think that I should be calm?!"

Obsession let out another one of his little giggles that made Spike want to rip his head straight off of his neck, "Aw, my little man's just cranky because he's hungry! If you're ready to eat now, it's all prepared!" With that he got up from the table and went over to a far corner of the room where a tray was set up with two silver platters with lids and a single red rose in a vase. He reached underneath the tray and pulled out a red apron. Turning around so Spike to see it and striking a modeling pose, Spike rolled his eyes when he read the inscription "Kiss the Cook" on Obsession's chest. He wheeled the tray over, whistling that damned "Valentine" song and stopped by Spike's plate. He set one of the platters in front of Spike and, taking the rose out of the vase, put the rose in Spike's hair. He giggles to himself again as he set the other platter in front of his chair. He turned back to Spike's plate and lifted up the lid on the platter, revealing a singed piece of meat that Spike guessed was supposed to be Filet Minion, and some kind of rice dish. Obsession went back over to his own side, lifted up the lid on his platter, tossed it aside, and dug into his dinner.

Spike stared at his plate, having no desire, and not daring, to eat the food set before him. He looked over at Obsession who was currently cutting his food at the speed of light and shoving it into his mouth. That was another stereotype for gay men to cross off his list; first that they were weak, and now that they had excellent table manners. Obsession, sensing Spike's gaze, lifted his face to him and Spike shut his eyes in disgust. Apparently beneath its burned-to-a-crisp exterior, the meat was incredibly raw because as Obsession had looked up; Spike had seen at least twenty small streams of red trailing down Obsession's face. It had made his look like some kind of cannibal that was hungrily looking at its next meal. "Why aren't you eating love", Obsession asked, motioning with his knife to Spike's untouched plate. Spike glared back with a glowering expression on his face, wishing that Obsession would just disappear, or even better, burst into flames and melt right in front of him. Unfortunately, Obsession misinterpreted these signs of hostility and a smile spread across his face, bringing back the cannibal picture to Spike's mind. "Do you want to bypass the dinner portion of this date and go on to the next level", Obsession asked in a low voice, leaning forward towards his unwilling captive. Spike let out a horrified gasp as he felt a foot brushing up and down his leg.

Instead of yelling at Obsession to get his fucking foot off of him, Spike put on a sweet smile and cooed, "Obsession, do you think that with these chains on my feet that I could possible reach over and do to you what you're doing to me?"

"I would think so", Obsession said in the same low voice, placing an elbow on the table and resting his head on the arm's fingers with a smile.

"Well then, unless you feel like going through a testicle retrieval operation, I suggest that you keep your FEET to YOURSELF", Spike yelled, kicking out as he yelled. Just at that moment however, Obsession put his hands on the edge of the table and pushed away just out of Spike's leg's reach. Now he was pissed. He got up and stormed over to Spike, wiping the blood off of his chin as he did, and kneeling beside Spike. He was exactly at Spike's eye level and was staring at him with stone eyes. Spike shrunk back slightly under that gaze, for maybe the second time in his life, he was truly afraid, but he knew that if Obsession killed him, at least he would not ever have to see that ugly face again.

Obsession's eyes never lost their tone as he spoke, "Now you listen Spike, you'll live a lot longer if you don't upset me. I have a very short temper when it comes to people and I can not be held responsible for my actions when I get mad!" As he spoke, he grabbed Spike's wrist and squeezed it tight. Spike's eyes stared back into Obsession's with the same intense cold look. "Do I make myself clear?" Spike had to grit his teeth against a yelp as he heard a snap under Obsession's grasp and pain shot up his arm. That pain must've flashed in Spike's eyes for a brief moment because Obsession gave a superior smirk, getting up and going back to his seat. "Good. Now then eat your dinner before it gets cold."

"No thank you," Spike said, his death-glare still in place and following Obsession with his eyes, "I'm not hungry."

"Very well, but you're letting a perfectly good meal go to waste, I got it off of a Chinese man I once knew", Obsession said, digging into his meal again.

"Really, I was under the impression that Filet Minion was French", Spike said, his voice sounding for some reason even unknown to him civil. It must've been that the fear was starting to finally take root in him, afraid of what would happen if Obsession did get angry.

"What are you talking about, this isn't Minion," Obsession said, lifting up a newly cut piece with his fork, "this is dog." Spike watched in horror as Obsession popped the piece of meat into his mouth, eating it slowly and chewing with his mouth open, making a distinctive "Mmm-mm-mmm" noise.

"Ein . . . ." Spike mumbled to himself, staring at the small piece of meat in front of him.

"Yes, if that's what you called your little yapping friend," Obsession said, wiping off his chin again, "but you may be the smart one, not eating I mean Pumpkin. That thing was sitting there for a long time and I'm not sure if the meat had turned or not."

"You sick, disgusting bastard", Spike said in a low, dangerous voice.

"I'll pretend that I didn't hear that," Obsession said nonchalantly, picking up the bottle of wine, "drink?"

"Not in a million years", Spike growled. If this was going to be what the rest of his life was like, then Obsession should just kill him now. He was in no mood for pleasantries.

"Are you sure? Earth, 2031, very good year", Obsession said in the tone of a mother trying to get her son to eat his vegetables. Any second Spike imagined that Obsession would break out a spoonful for him and start making airplane noises.

"You drink wine from the time of the Phase Gate accident? No wonder you're loony," Spike said with a bark of a laugh, "That stuffs got more contaminates in it then the government's got missiles!" Obsession just put on a toothy grin and got up out of his seat. Flight 2031, coming in for landing! Destination: Spike! Obsession pulled off the cork that was loosely placed in the top of the bottle and stopped behind Spike's chair. He waved the bottle in front of Spike's face, draping his other arm over Spike's shoulder.

"You sure that you won't even have a bit", Obsession asked in a close-to- whiney voice. Spike turned his head from the bottle to the arm that was dangling over his shoulder, and replied by biting the arm as hard as his jaw would allow. For one brief instant he tasted blood and spit out the arm from his mouth.

"That answer your question", Spike asked, tilting his head over his shoulder. Knowing Obsession, he probably put some kind of poison or knock- out drug into the wine. He wasn't sure what exactly happened next, but he somehow ended up on the floor with his wrists screaming out in pain since they were still attached to the table, his nose was plugged and his mouth was open and he was very aware of a bottle in his mouth and liquid being literally forced down his throat. He tried to turn his head to get air, but the hand that was holding his nose closed was also holding his face. The only way that he would be able to get oxygen would be to drink the whole bottle of wine before his lungs died on him. He began sucking on the bottle, forcing the liquid through his mouth and down his throat as fast as he could. He looked up at Obsession during all of this and saw that the "evil monster" smile was back.

When the entire contents of the bottle were gone, the bottle was pulled out of Spike's mouth and he took in a deep breath, like he was trying to get all the oxygen out of the room in one breath. The hand was taken away from his nose and he began using that to get more oxygen to his brain. He felt like he was going to throw up at any moment and the room was slightly fuzzy and spinning a little. He slowly righted himself and rested his head on the table, scraping his tongue with his teeth to try to get the taste of the wine out of his mouth, good God that was nasty! His face grimaced as his stomach took a nasty turn and leaning over his right arm, he threw up. A smelly wetness on his leg told him that he had not been as successful as he'd hoped in not upchucking on himself. He saw through his distorted vision that Obsession was coming towards him with a napkin and he tried vainly to scoot away, landing himself in the puddle of his own vomit.

"Tsk, tsk my little man, look at what you've done, you've made a mess of yourself", Obsession said, kneeling down next to Spike and rubbing at Spike's thigh with the napkin. Spike's mind came back to its full strength for one fleeting second when he noticed that the hand with the napkin was slowly going higher up his leg.

"Get away from me you sick fuck", Spike growled getting to his feet, though he soon fell down again and his growl came out as more of a moan.

"Aw, my poor man's sick! He needs somebody to care for him", Obsession said, running a hand over Spike's forehead. He reached up and undid the handcuffs on Spike's hands, and as it turned out that was the only thing keeping him upright because he fell over with a "clunk". Obsession then undid the shackles on Spike's feet and picked Spike up, hanging him over his shoulder. Spike was vaguely aware of what was happening, but his fight- or-flight response was going off like mad. He looked over on the table and an object immediately caught his interest: a long, sharp, black-handled streak knife. Spike reached out and grabbed hold of the handle not a moment too soon as Obsession adjusted Spike on his shoulder and walked out the door.

Normally, Spike would've used the knife immediately, but as was clearly evident to anyone looking at him at that time, he was in no condition to wield it. His eyes were unfocused and he was frequently shaking his head in vain attempts to clear up his impaired vision. If he struck out with the knife now, he was most likely to miss or to hit a non-lethal spot, leaving himself completely vulnerable. He had to wait for the opportune moment. (A/N: (cackles) Bow before me and my mighty Pirates of the Caribbean reference! . . . . . . which I don't own either!)

However, by the time that Obsession had carried Spike to their destination, it appeared that that "opportune moment" would never appear or had passed by completely. Before entering the room, Obsession swung Spike over his shoulder and held him in both arms like a groom with a bride going across the threshold of their first house. Obsession smiled at Spike lovingly and Spike turned his head the other way, feeling another wave of nausea coming on. His head throbbed and his eyebrows were working like they had two minds of their own, trying desperately to keep his eyes open and adding comic flair to his features. He had never felt so tired in his life, and this was not the time for it! "Gotta stay awake! Gotta stay awake," he chanted to himself in his mind, "Gotta stay awake! Gotta stay a-oh fuck!" That last part came through his mouth loud and clear as he was carried into the room. It was decorated like the last room, the "dinning room" with the concealed red lighting and the heart-shaped balloons, but it was missing the table and chairs. In their places there were wide, short, multi-wicked candles in varying colors and scents set up burning all around. Set directly in the middle of them was a heart-shaped bed with red silk sheets and pink, red, and white satin pillows scattered around on it. It looked like some cheesy honeymoon sweet from a one-star hotel one finds on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh look! Isn't it beautiful honey," Obsession said in a high voice, "we'll be living from here for awhile!" Spike shifted in Obsession's arms, looking around the room and groaning. Just then, Obsession noticed the steak knife in Spike's hand. He grabbed it before Spike could react as his reflexes were slowed from intoxication. "I don't think that you'll need this here love", Obsession said, planting a kiss on Spike's neck and throwing the knife into a corner of the room. Spike watched it go, flying over and landing planted in the floor, his last chance of escape in-bedded in . . . . . dear God, shag carpeting! Obsession walked over and plopped Spike down on the bed. Spike immediately scooted up to the headboard of the bed, which was difficult as the mattress kept sagging underneath him, it was a water bed. Spike curled up into the fetal position when he found out he couldn't scoot back anymore, hugging his knees to his chest.

Obsession was watching all of this with a humored smirk on his face. When Spike seemed to have found his comfy spot, Obsession patted the end of the bed, trying vainly to get Spike back to the front and sending wave after wave through the beds' contents. Spike had a fleeting thought on whether Obsession was compensating for something, remembering an ancient saying among the women about the size of a boat and the motion of the ocean. It brought a flickering smile to his lips and Obsession seemed to take that as a good sign as he stood straight up and walked over to a stereo system. After a few buttons were punched, the room was soon filled with that same old "My Funny Valentine" song. Obsession stopped, his back still to Spike, and began crooning along with the music. Spike was about to let a biting remark like "Spare me" or "Don't quit your day job if you got one" slip out of his mouth, but then it dawned on him that Obsession wasn't looking at him, now was his chance to get the knife!

He slowly got up off the bed, his legs shaking slightly and the bed making a dull sloshing sound to accompany the music. The knife was in a corner that was right by Obsession, if he got close enough without Obsession noticing and dived at it, he could get it. He slowly began walking over, trying to be careful and avoid the dozens of candles scattered on the floor. He could see the knife clearly now, which was saying something since he was sure that he no longer had anywhere near 20/20 vision. He was so close to the knife, but what he didn't realize was that he was even closer to Obsession and the psychopath chose that time of all times to turn around. His eyes lit up with joy as he saw Spike up and about, reaching out his arms like he was about to give a hug.

"Oh Spike, you didn't have to come to me! I'd have been right there in a second!" He took a step towards Spike, but Spike was too close to his goal to let this obstacle stop him! He ducked under Obsession's open arms and dived at the knife. Obsession realized what was happening and dove as well, grabbing Spike around the legs, but not before Spike had wrapped his fingers around the handle of the knife and pulled it free. For Spike, it was like a slow motion "sword in the stone" moment. He now had the power to vanquish his captor and he was expecting angels to descend from the heavens at any time, sustaining one note and then going into the "Halleluiah" chorus. But that didn't happen, there was just Frankie singing in the background and Obsession talking to him. "Now Spike darling, I thought that we'd put the resistance phase behind us", Obsession said in the tone of someone trying to stop their spouse from jumping out of the window. Still holding onto Spike's legs with one arm, he reached up with the other and tried to take the knife away again.

Spike however was still in the mood for resisting, and as the hand grabbed for the knife, he lifted it up and brought it right down through the hand. Blood spurted from the wound and Obsession let out a noise that can only be described as a "URGH!" (A/N: Ok, that was stupid. (sits over in a corner in shame)) "THAT WAS FOR FAYE!" Spike screamed, pulling the knife back out and raising it again. He got on top of Obsession and slashed the knife across the side of Obsession's throat, "AND THAT ONE'S FOR JET!" Obsession bucked up, throwing Spike off of him with the knife still in his hand. Obsession grabbed at his neck, which was now spraying blood on the walls, a shocked look on his face. He then wheeled around to look at Spike, who was still on the ground but ready to pounce again at any moment.

"Darling," Obsession said, his face full of forgiveness, "how can you still defend that hoar and bastard? They were trying to separate us! I did it all for you! And this, (he removed his hand from his neck for one second, letting the blood spray out), is how you repay me for my generosity?!" His face suddenly went dark and murderous and he leaped at Spike. Spike, still drunk, barely made it out of the way and managed to slash at Obsession's face. Obsession let out a scream of half terror and half fury as he landed face-first on the ground. He turned towards Spike with a one-eyed death- glare as the slash from the knife had punctured his left eye, and it was now leaking blood too. Obsession was on his hands and knees and began crawling towards Spike, panting hard and growling. "Make no mistake Spike, you will be mine, TONIGHT", Obsession yelled, leaping at Spike yet again. Spike however, leaped at the same time and ended up on top of Obsession.

"Ta Hell I will", Spike yelled raising the knife again and brining it down with all his might into Obsession's back. He pulled it out and began stabbing again and again, anger and fury driving his hand Obsession was dead, it was over. But Spike's body still thirsted for vengeance, for retaliation. His eyes watched in horror as his own hands took the knife and began hacking away at Obsession's neck, trying to sever the head from the body.

"NO", Spike screamed at his body and pried his hands away. He stood up slowly; his blue suit now turned a nasty shade of purple by blood. He walked around Obsession's corpse which was face-down on the ground, slowly circling like a vulture. Suddenly he swooped down and grabbed Obsession's arm and pulled. Obsession's body turned over onto its back and Spike let out an involuntary shudder as he looked at the face. On that sick murderer's face was a smile, a twisted macabre smile. If this had been a suspense movie, this would've been the time where the music went loud and half the audience screamed. That smile would haunt Spike forever, he knew it. It was a mix between one of contentment and evil and stretched across his entire face. Spike began to laugh, first a snicker, then a chuckle, then his shoulders started to shake, and finally his face burst forth in a huge smile and his laughs echoed throughout the ship no doubt. Spike didn't know if it was from relief or madness but he didn't care! He laughed and laughed and laughed, kicking at the smiling cadaver as he did.

Getting some minor control over himself, Spike turned to leave, giving the stupid corpse one final kick before he did. That was when he heard it.

"Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike . . . . .."

Spike stood stock still; it was like someone had stuck a lightning rod in him and the electricity went all up and down his back.

"Spi-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike . . . . . . . . ."

"No, nononononononononononononononono," Spike though to himself as he slowly turned around. "He can't be alive! I killed him! I did!" He turned around and walked over to Obsession's corpse. (A/N: the stupid people in horror movies ALWAYS go back to danger zones!) It was still sitting there, nothing had changed. Then all of a sudden, Spike heard the voice again.

"You didn't kill me Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike," the voice said, high and misty. It was like evil itself trying to sound caring. It was the Big Bad Wolf in granny's nightgown, putting on the high voice to lure in Little Red Riding Hood, "I'll be with you forever now!"

Spike's breathing was becoming distorted again. He could see Obsession's vocal chords through the many cuts that were made and they weren't moving, the smile had never left the dead face, how could this be happening?! "No, this is all a dream, a nightmare. I'll wake up and it'll be just the way that it used to be!"

"It will never be the same Spiiiiiiike," the voice chimed in and Spike was horrified to find that it was coming from within his own head! Spike screamed in terror, grasping at his head, falling to his knees, doubling over so that his face was mere inches from the ground. "Don't worry Spike, life will be better now! We're together!"

"SHUT UP!" Spike yelled at the top of his lungs. He was hyperventilating now; his heartbeat was racing, as if at any moment it would burn itself out. "No, I won't be quiet, you need me now. I'm the only person that you have in the world," the voice said, but this time it came out of Spike's mouth. As soon as Spike realized this he let out a scream of terror. Getting up, he ran out of the door and screaming down the hallway. He was trying to escape, trying to escape the dream, it was a dream right?! It HAD to be! He kept on running down the hallway, there was a dead end ahead and he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself, his mind was too focused on trying to figure out the madness that was racing through his head. Then, it all stopped, everything went black. Spike's body collided with the wall and he fell with a loud "thud" on the hallway floor.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))

"Everything seems clear here, moving to next level," a voice echoed through the darkness of the Bebop. It came from a man in uniform talking in a small walkie-talkie device. Even though there was clearly oxygen still in the room, he wore a large gas mask that fitted over his head and hat; he was an ISSP agent, "How long has this ship been out here anyway?"

"Don't know," a voice came in over the other end of the walkie-talkie, "Judging by rate of decay and hull damage I'd say around a year or two. Any sign of the owners yet?"

"That would be a negative, I don't think that anybody could live on this hunk of junk, much less want to," the man in the mask replied. As he walked down the dark hallway, he seemed to see something moving in the shadows ahead. He took one step towards it and it was gone. "I think I might've just seen someone, I'm going to go check it out."

"Ok, be careful and watch yourself!" the other voice said. The policeman walked down the hallway, looking ahead into the darkness he decided it might be time for a little more light and he turned on a small flashlight. He began swinging it around, looking at the ordinary steel walls, regular steel ceiling, and the bloody footprints on the ground. He kneeled down to make a closer inspection. They were definitely human and large, making the person maybe 6' or 6'1". He was about to call in his findings when he saw a light flickering up ahead. It was coming out a doorway a few feet ahead and was reflecting on the opposite wall. He began walking towards it cautiously, pulling out his gun as he did. As he got closer, he heard a peculiar sound coming out of the room, it sounded like music, but the player was messed up or the disk scratched as it stopped every few seconds. He stopped by the doorway and called out, "This is the ISSP, and we're looking for the owner of this vessel!"

From the inside of the room, a voice could be heard, "Did you hear that Jet? They're looking for you!" A gruff voice called out to the policeman outside to come in, and the agent walked into the room. As he entered his eyes widened in shock and horror, and he dropped his flashlight. There in front of him was a table, decked out for a fancy dinner complete with candles and shriveled roses, with five chairs sitting around it. All of the chairs were occupied; the first was by a brown-haired body with a clown- from-hell smile on his face and wide staring eyes. The second and third chairs were occupied by heads, one of a balding man with black hair and the other of a woman with purple hair that had at one time been apparently beautiful. All of these corpses now however were wrinkled and white or green. In the forth seat was what appeared to be a small dog, with no eyes and half of its guts pulled out. And then in the fifth chair, staring right at him was a brown-haired man in a dark suit with dried blood on his fingers.

"Welcome to the celebration, it's been so long since any of us had visitors, isn't that right all?" the man said, turning his head towards the other chairs. The man's face then went through a freak metamorphosis of faces and voices coming out of his mouth. Ranging from a low man's voice to a higher girl's pitch, and ending with a dog-like wolf. The agent slowly began lifting his foot to run, but the man spoke first, "Oh please don't go, won't you come and join us? I'm sure that everybody would just LOVE IT!" With that the man jumped up from the table and ran at the cop. The agent let out a yell and began sprinting down the hallway, he could hear the man's boots hitting the metal hard behind him, and the sound was getting louder.

The agent picked up his walkie-talkie and turned it on while still running. He flipped the talk switch and yelled into it, "REQUESTING BACKUP! REQUESTING BACKUP! SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEA-", but his message was cut short. The man grabbed the walkie-talkie from behind and smashed it against the wall. The agent stumbled and fell to the ground, ending up back-down on the floor. The last thing that he remembered was seeing two red eyes burning angrily down at him, hands around his neck, and a voice yelling at him sternly "You're not going to leave ME!"

Das Ende