Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to The Ring. Though I wouldn't mind owning Noah, unfortunately I do not.
A.N. See? See? I told you I'd eventually get this up!
Chapter Three: "The World is Spinning"
"Beth!" Noah called out. He could hear her screaming. He rushed down the hall, but skidded to a halt in front of a large mirror. He could see the reflection of the bathroom behind him. Beth stood, cowering in the corner the shower, and the decrepit little girl, who was standing there, pulled back her long, black, hair. Noah could only watch in horror as his former assistant opened her mouth as if to scream again. But instead, she began to rot away and fall back against the wall, dead. The little girl slowly turned to face Noah. She glared maliciously. Her face rotted and twisted with rage. Her eyes glowed brightly, as if fueled by a fiery, palpable, hatred. The room became engulfed in light…
Noah opened his eyes, squinting at the florescent lights and bright, white, walls. Slowly coming to his senses, he remembered where he was, on the floor of his room at Eola County Psychiatric Hospital.
"Damn." he thought. "Do they have paint these rooms white? It's enough to give anyone a migraine!" He stood up, his head throbbing. "Guess I fell out of bed…again." In the beginning, he had tried not to sleep, for every time he did, he saw the same thing. Those two faces always seemed to be there, lurking in the dark corners of his mind, always ready to replay the horror of that morning. Two faces, Samara's and Beth's. Just thinking about Beth brought a wave of guilt over Noah. He had never meant to hurt her. But, he couldn't help feeling that her death was his fault.
"If only I'd gotten to her sooner, or made sure she'd copied the tape, or…if I'd never shown it to her in the first place."
Noah sighed, knowing that his 'if onlys' were getting him nowhere. He surveyed the room again; this time noticing a brown grocery bag, with a note pined to it had been stashed in a corner. He opened it and dumped out it's contents. Bags of chips, crackers, cookies, four cans of soda, and other snacks fell to the floor. He ripped open a bag of Doritos. Shoving a few in to his mouth hungrily, he looked at the note. It read:
"Dear Noah,
I thought you might like these because I've heard that the food here sucks. I've spoken to an attorney about getting you out.
We're going to need the doctor's approval, which means he'll probably have to evaluate you again before he signs the release form. Take it easy for the next day or so. I'm coming in Monday to check in on you and to get things straightened out.
Hope you're doing ok!
Love always,
Rachel."
Putting the food away, he decided to write back to her. He needed to talk to someone and patients were rarely allowed to use the phone.
"Besides" he thought, "If I went to the doctors, ranting about a killer video tape, they'd put me away for good!"
Noah found his door unlocked, as patients were permitted to leave their rooms during the day, as long as they stayed in the wing. The rest of the hospital was off limits. He wandered down the hall to the common room. The room was crowded, as usual, with people sitting around watching TV, or playing Solitaire or Dominos. He sat down at a small writing desk towards the back of the room and scribbled "Dear, Rachel" on a sheet of paper. Not knowing where to go from there, he twiddled the pen idly in his hand. It had just occurred to him that the Eola staff would probably read the letter before sending it, so he couldn't disclose any thing too private. He put his head down on the desk in frustration, when suddenly he noticed two, small, blue eyes peering up at him. Looking down, Noah noticed that they belonged to a small, blonde haired girl of about five.
"Helloooo" she cooed. "Whacha doooooin?" Noah didn't respond, but the little girl persisted. "Wanna come see my room? It's got all my toys and-"
"Maybe some other time" he murmured and looked away. Just then, something in the far corner of the room caught his eye. Samara Morgan was standing there, her gaze fixed upon Noah.
"Hey mister, are you ok?" The little blonde girl asked. Before she could say anything else, Noah bolted from the room. He dashed down the long corridor, stopping short at the corner to catch his breath. He peeked around the corner only to find himself face to face with Beth. She stared at him. Her eyes had a strange glow to them. Her skin was pale with hints of a sickly green. She was dripping wet.
"But, y-you were dead." Noah stammered.
"And you should be too." Her lips weren't moving, but he could hear her voice in his head. The image of Beth then faded to reveal Samara standing in her place, grinning sadistically up at Noah. "You were the one who was supposed to die, not her." She took a step foreword. Noah backed away. "You killed her..."
"No" he protested. "I thought it was over. I didn't know that-"
"Liar" She hissed. "You don't deserve to be let out of here."
"Stop it!"
"Murderer…"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"
A few patients and orderlies stuck their heads of their rooms to see what all the noise was about. They saw Noah, alone, panting, and nervously glancing around. Then, out of panic and embarrassment, he turned and fled down the hall.
0000000
Rachel sat in Eola's waiting room, wondering, worrying. She hadn't heard form Noah since that fateful Thursday. The memory was still ripe in her mind. She had ridden with him in the ambulance, trying to hold him still as he thrashed about wildly. The EMTs eventually pulled out a needle and gave him a sedative. Shortly afterward, he passed out in her arms,
Rachel bit her lip, trying not to cry. "I wanted to save him!" She thought angrily. "This wasn't what I had in mind!"
"Ms. Keller?" Rachel looked up to see a tall, muscular, orderly with the name "Leroy" on his badge.
"Yes, that's me."
"You're here to see…" he checked his clipboard. "Noah Clay, right?"
"Yes"
"Good, come with me." She followed Leroy down the hall, past two, younger, hospital workers who were laughing and making balloons out of plastic gloves. "Quit screwing around!" Leroy barked at them. "Get back to work or I'll be on you like-"
"White on rice" one of them said. "We know"
They entered a small room with a table and two chairs. Noah was sitting quietly at one of them. Rachel looked him over. He was pale and thinner than usual, with dark circles under his eyes.
"Hey" Rachel said softly as she sat down. "I've missed you." Noah stared at her blankly. She decided to try again. "Did you get the package I sent you?" Noah stood up, humming to himself. He walked over to the window and began drumming his fingers on the glass.
"Noah, I need you to tell me what you saw that day." He went over to her, leaned down, and in a slightly high-pitched, sing-song voice, he whispered:
"I'll never teeelllllllll."
A confused expression came over Rachel's face. That line had sounded vaguely familiar to her. Noah burst out laughing.
"Oh God, Rach, I'm sorry, but that look on your face was just priceless!"
"Noah!" She smacked him lightly on the arm.
"Ow! Hey! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit a crazy person?"
Rachel stood up and hugged him. Noah smiled. "I've missed you too."
0000000
Meanwhile…
Dr. Scott, head of Eola County Psychiatric Hospital, sat in his office watching a tape on the monitor. He saw himself sitting at the table in the interview room. "This is N.C. zero, zero, one, seven, Noah Clay, hour seventeen." Noah was seated at the back of the room.
"Oooh NC-17?" he quipped. "What kinda film are you making here, Doc?" He laughed, albeit, weakly at his own joke.
"That isn't funny, Noah. Now, I need to ask you some questions."
"O-ok"
"I've heard you've been having been trouble sleeping. Why don't you tell me what's been keeping you up?"
There was a long pause. Noah looked anxious. He deliberately looked away. "Every time I try to sleep, she's there."
"Who, that friend of yours, Beth?"
"Her too"
"Who else?" Dr. Scott asked. Noah remained silent. "Noah? Noah, you're gonna have to talk to me if you ever want to get out."
"Girl…" Noah stammered "Long, black hair, white dress... She was at Beth's, now she's here."
Just then, the office door opened. A much younger doctor walked in. Dr. Scott pressed Stop on the remote control. "Hello, Doctor Brennan. Was there something you wanted?"
"Yes, there's a women here to see Mr. Clay and she's asking for a release form."
"A release form?" Dr. Scott smirked. "Are you kidding? The man's delusional!"
"That's not what worries me. Have you noticed any unusual patient behavior lately?"
"Such as?"
"One of my patients, Stuart Whitman, usually the quietest person on the hall, was yelling and ranting about an 'angel of death' coming for him last night. I've had at least five other patients with similar complaints, including Clay."
"What's your point?"
Dr. Brennan pulled a folder from his clipboard and held it up. It was labeled: Morgan, Samara. "An angel of death" he continued "with long black hair and a white dress."
Dr. Scott's eye's widened. "Where did you get that?"
"Funny thing is, all this started when Noah Clay and Rebecca Kotler were admitted. What's more strange, both of them were admitted for severe post traumatic stress after witnessing the death of a friend, who died under, shall we say, 'mysterious circumstances.'"
"Give that to me!" Dr. Scott snapped, grabbing the folder. "There are things in here that don't need to be dug up."
"Whatever you're hiding is gonna get out a lot faster if we keep Clay and Kotler here."
"No one is going to receive a 'get-out-of-jail-free' card as long as I'm in charge. Is that understood?"
Dr. Brennan nodded and left the office.
0000000
Rachel sat on Noah's lap, listening to his stories of Eola's very 'colorful' residents.
"I was sitting in the cafeteria," he began. "when suddenly, this dude throws his mashed potatoes at me. So I ask him why he did it and he said: 'I don't like you, Mr. Bush! I don't care if you're the president of the United States, I don't like you!' "
Rachel laughed. She was relieved to see that Noah was still, more or less, himself, even after what happened. He still had that gleam in his eyes, mischievous grin, and wry sense of humor. She had really missed all those things about Noah during the years they were separated.
"If only we could be alone…" she thought, resting her head against his chest. The door opened. A young doctor walked in and sat down. "Hello, I'm Dr. Brennan. You must be Noah's…wife?"
"No." Rachel corrected. For she had put down 'Significant Other' on the visitor's form "We're not married."
"I see."
As the conversation went on, Noah began to tune out, focusing only on the woman in his lap.
"God, she's gorgeous!" He mused. He remembered spending many long nights awake, haunted by horrific visions, wishing she was with him. Noah was convinced that thinking about Rachel was the only way he had gotten through those nights.
"So, Noah, how have you been adjusting these past few weeks?" Dr. Brennan's voice pulled Noah out of his reverie.
"Fine… I guess. Not such a bad place you've got here. At least my fellow inmates are friendly."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I met this little girl in common room the other day, about five years old, very talkative."
Dr. Brennan looked puzzled. "Five years old? Are you sure?"
"Uh huh, she had short, blonde hair, blue eyes, not hard to miss."
"I haven't seen anyone like that around here."
"Me neither" said Leroy. "The youngest person registered here is Becca Kotler, sixteen."
"Oh" Noah said flatly, his hopes of going home deflated like a balloon with hole in it.
"Well" Dr. Brennan said, trying to sound optimistic. "Usually I could release you, under the care of a friend or family member. Unfortunately, Dr. Scott has been a bit… stingy with the release forms. But I'm sure I can convince him otherwise. In the meantime, get some rest. People will start to see all sorts of strange things when they're sleep-deprived." And with that, he left the room.
"Great" Noah muttered. "Looks like I just shot myself in the foot there, huh?"
"You'll be fine." Rachel said reassuringly. "I will get you out of here, ok?" Noah looked skeptical. Rachel kissed him softly. "I promise" she whispered.
0000000
The last rays of pale sunlight were sinking beneath the cloudy horizon. Noah sat in a corner of his room as the light faded. Later, at around ten o'clock, he heard the sounds of Eola's staff walking the hallways, shutting off all the lights, and seeing some of the more 'unstable' patients to bed.
"No! Don't leave me!" cried a voice from the other side of the wall.
"Now Mr. Whitman," echoed Dr. Brennan's voice. "It's time for bed."
"No! No! You don't understand! She's coming for me! She's-" There was a loud crash, then the sounds of a brief scuffle, a short pause, a door opened and closed, footsteps walking away, and then, nothing. Silence. Dead silence and dead darkness. Two things that made Noah cringe. He couldn't help feeling like he was four years old again. He clearly remembered how he used to jump at every small noise and how his father would yell at him to shut up and go back to bed whenever he tried to turn the light back on. Now, everything he had seen made him again wonder if there were things lurking in the darkness, waiting for him. An hour or so passed. Noah had been trying, unsuccessfully, to stay awake. He was about to doze off, when a sharp 'click' made him flinch. His door opened and in stepped the little, blonde girl.
"Hi!" she chirped. Noah backed away as she walked over to him.
"You're not real" he stammered.
"Of course I am, silly! Come on! I wanna show you something!" She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him up. Noah wouldn't budge.
"How did you get in here?" he asked.
"Through the door" she answered, as if it was the most obvious question ever. "Now, come on!"
Though he didn't know why, Noah slowly rose and allowed himself to be lead out of the room by the little girl. They moved down the dark hallway. Moonlight (when it occasionally came out from behind the clouds) streamed in through the windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Looking down the corridor, it seemed to stretch endlessly, like the labyrinth of Greek mythology. It was also unusually cold. "Did they forget to turn on the heat or something?" Noah wondered, shivering. It was then he noticed something. At the far end of the hallway, something on the wall shimmered in the moonlight. He stopped and pulled his hand from the little girl's grip. "Wait here" he told her as he rushed ahead to the wall in the distance. Upon arriving, Noah found that a huge Japanese maple tree had been painted on the wall. "The tree from the tape" he said quietly. He dipped his fingers into the paint. It was sticky and runny. He put some of it into his mouth and immediately spat it back out. The bitter taste was unmistakable. It was blood. He spun back around only to find his way blocked by Samara Morgan. She stood there, rotting, wet, glowering, her eyes still filled with that fiery rage. Noah took off as fast as he could down the left hall. The sound of a child singing began to fill the corridor.
"The world is spinning. When it stops, it's just beginning."
And it was. At least to Noah it was. The whole room seemed spinning as he fought to keep his balance.
"Sun comes up, we laugh and we cry. Sun goes down, and then we all die."
Everything was blurring. Images flashed through Noah's mind. Flash: A finger being pressed down on a nail. Flash: A grief-stricken Anna Morgan whispering "All I ever wanted-" Flash: A distraught Rachel "-was you." Flash: An angry Richard Morgan. "My wife was not supposed to have a child!" Flash: Samara Morgan. "But, he doesn't know…" Flash: His childhood home. His father towered above him, shaking his fist, screaming "Dammit, Noah! If you turn that light on one more time…" Flash: A remote cabin in the woods. A woman's sharp cry sounded. A man called out "Anna!"
Then, everything faded. Noah collapsed to the floor and lost consciousness.
A.N. And here is where I must leave you… for now. I will post again when I have resolved some issues with the ending. Please, R&R, no flames! Peace out!