A/N: The long-awaited update. Sorry, my laptop went haywire and I couldn't
update the story on vacation. Sorry. And bunches of love to the uplifting
reviews
Disclaimer: Mort. And his house. [sniff]
And onward, fellow readers!
Chapter Four: Cowardice
Maria felt her only weapon was that if her heart beat through her chest, it could fly out and kill this man. His lips were now grazing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. A bit too friendly for the first impression.
"You smell like the rain," He spoke. What did he say his name was? "I'm almost ashamed Mortybear is missin' out on all this fun." Maria notice the change in Mort's voice. Slow. Southern accent. What the hell was going on?!
Maria's eyes started to ache as they darted around for something to hit him with. It wasn't any use, the room was lit, but not well enough. Her breathing became laborious.
"It's been a while, for the both of us, me n Mort." This man wouldn't keep his hands off of her. "I'm glad I'm the first to reach you before he does." He paused and pressed his lips to her ear. "But after our little fun I'd have to git rid of you. I don't like sharin' women."
Maria remembered about hearing somewhere that when people are frightened or angry, or both, they somehow find a supernatural strength to do things normal people can't do. Like lifting cars off of toddlers, and whatnot. She found that was true today. This guy probably had over thirty pounds on her, and needless to say she wasn't any macho-woman. But she mustered all that willpower and flung him off. She tried to remember something from a movie, where she saw this woman FBI agent kick some guy's ass.
Mort came after her with anger, and lust. Was it Mort? After taking an overview, Mort didn't look like a writer any longer. He looked like a first- class murderer. The kind that only killed for pleasure. Nope, not the guy she met earlier.
No time to remember any movies. She had to get the hell out of there. She turned, tripped, and fell. Conked her head on something hard. Maria's assailant tripped over her, and darkness ate her like a spider during feeding time.
i "Gooooooood Morning, Hermon, Maine! It looks as if it will rain AGAIN today..." /i
Maria groaned and sat up in her bed that took up half of her bedroom. ... HER bed?!
She sat up, and groaned again as her head swam. She fell back until the green dots that danced in her line of vision ceased. She looked at her alarm clock that was now pronouncing that The Darkness was coming to downtown Falmouth, and saw the time. 10:32 AM. Late for work at Jacob's. Wasn't her first. She'd been late six times, she guessed a seventh wouldn't do her harm. She sat up slowly, and rubbed her eyes. She looked down, and saw a faded dark blue sweatshirt.
Mort Rainey.
As if almost on cue, she heard movement above the happy chatter coming from her clock. She got up, her body acute on adrenaline. She froze when she heard a door shut. She clicked off the radio and listened. She listened for what seemed like hours.
Nothing. Maria was alone.
Maria relaxed her shoulders and walked into the kitchen. She stared at what was decorating her table.
Roses. Yellow roses. And a piece of notebook paper.
She approached them slowly, as if they might come out and swallow her whole. She unfolded the paper to reveal scrawled writing. There wasn't a greeting.
I can't tell you how sorry I am. Never in a million years would that
happen. I thought I had it under control... I'm really, really sorry,
Maria.
Maria looked up. Did she tell him her name?
I'd like a chance to explain. If you're still willing to take the job
I had offered, you could stop by.
"HA!" Maria startled herself by her sudden outburst.
I'd really like a chance to explain. Please.
Mort Rainey
No number. This man is outrageous.
But they were roses. Beautiful roses.
The phone rang. Maria was on the brink of pissing her pants.
"Hello?"
"Where in Satan's hell are you?!" Maria winced. Good ol' Jacob.
"Sorry, I've had one hell of a night. I-"
"No more excuses, Maria." Well, Jacob was clearly pissed.
"I'm sorry, I'm on my way now."
"No you ain't. You're fired, missy." Maria froze. Either she's crazy or she heard him wrong.
"Wh-What?"
"FIRED" Buzz of an empty line.
"Hell."
Maria sat at her table and stared intently at a flower-printed tile. "What the fuck now?" She rested her aching head on her hands.
It was either live in a box, or get killed by Mort Rainey.
The box sounded inviting.
Maria, once again, found herself in front of Mort Rainey's house. Yes, it is official. I believe they should come take me and put me into the loony's bin. It seemed that it always rained around this man's house. She heard movement in the house and then saw a dark figure come towards the door.
Although she didn't knock.
The door swung open and Maria looked into the deep brown eyes of Mort Rainey. She got a kick out of that name and laughed hysterically in the cab. The driver even thought she was insane. She's met a lot of men, but NONE of them had eyes like that. None had those dark, mesmerizing.... Enchanting eyes.
He smiled. "You got guts, kid."
Maria found her voice. "I need a job." She stepped inside.
The house looked like Mort led in Taz from Looney Toons and let him chase Bugs Bunny. It was, needless to say, a big, fucking trash-hole.
"Sorry about the mess... I really didn't expect you to come back." He led her in to the living room, which was bombarded with paper. Most had "Shooter" written on it. Red ink. It was like re-living a horror movie.
Maria started to wonder if this man had come into contact with a murderer with a gun, or was trying to prove to her he was a nutcase.
"Coke?" Maria took the bottle and stared at it. ITS POISONED, is what her mind screamed. Mort sat beside her. Maria waited for her heart to try and pound its way through her chest, but it didn't come.
Mort chuckled. "You know, last time I had a pretty girl in this house was my ex-wife, Amy."
First thought that popped into Maria's head was: Oh my God, he killed his wife!
"We're divorced." He took a sip from his Coke. He tried not to notice she wasn't drinking hers. It started to rain. It was daylight, thank God.
Mort looked at Maria. She only gazed at the scattered papers.
"How did you know my name?" She was surprised she was making small talk. This was truly a feat. She mentally slapped herself when she remembered her necklace that she had since she was seven. The one that bore her name.
Mort pointed to her necklace. She backed away from his finger.
"You know where I live?"
"On the tag of your purse," Another mental slap for Maria. Well, great. The killer knew where she lived.
"I guess I should explain to you... what in the hell happened last night."
A/N: Well. I guess that will have to do for now.
IRULEYOUALL: Kurt Cobain is the lead singer of Nirvana. [laughs] Its okay, he isn't my hero. My friend is in love with him... er, in love with his corpse. Suicide. Very sad. [smiles] I think its better if people don't know who Johnny Depp is. I don't want to divide him up between other to-become obsessed fans. He will remain ours. Bwahahaha
Disclaimer: Mort. And his house. [sniff]
And onward, fellow readers!
Chapter Four: Cowardice
Maria felt her only weapon was that if her heart beat through her chest, it could fly out and kill this man. His lips were now grazing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. A bit too friendly for the first impression.
"You smell like the rain," He spoke. What did he say his name was? "I'm almost ashamed Mortybear is missin' out on all this fun." Maria notice the change in Mort's voice. Slow. Southern accent. What the hell was going on?!
Maria's eyes started to ache as they darted around for something to hit him with. It wasn't any use, the room was lit, but not well enough. Her breathing became laborious.
"It's been a while, for the both of us, me n Mort." This man wouldn't keep his hands off of her. "I'm glad I'm the first to reach you before he does." He paused and pressed his lips to her ear. "But after our little fun I'd have to git rid of you. I don't like sharin' women."
Maria remembered about hearing somewhere that when people are frightened or angry, or both, they somehow find a supernatural strength to do things normal people can't do. Like lifting cars off of toddlers, and whatnot. She found that was true today. This guy probably had over thirty pounds on her, and needless to say she wasn't any macho-woman. But she mustered all that willpower and flung him off. She tried to remember something from a movie, where she saw this woman FBI agent kick some guy's ass.
Mort came after her with anger, and lust. Was it Mort? After taking an overview, Mort didn't look like a writer any longer. He looked like a first- class murderer. The kind that only killed for pleasure. Nope, not the guy she met earlier.
No time to remember any movies. She had to get the hell out of there. She turned, tripped, and fell. Conked her head on something hard. Maria's assailant tripped over her, and darkness ate her like a spider during feeding time.
i "Gooooooood Morning, Hermon, Maine! It looks as if it will rain AGAIN today..." /i
Maria groaned and sat up in her bed that took up half of her bedroom. ... HER bed?!
She sat up, and groaned again as her head swam. She fell back until the green dots that danced in her line of vision ceased. She looked at her alarm clock that was now pronouncing that The Darkness was coming to downtown Falmouth, and saw the time. 10:32 AM. Late for work at Jacob's. Wasn't her first. She'd been late six times, she guessed a seventh wouldn't do her harm. She sat up slowly, and rubbed her eyes. She looked down, and saw a faded dark blue sweatshirt.
Mort Rainey.
As if almost on cue, she heard movement above the happy chatter coming from her clock. She got up, her body acute on adrenaline. She froze when she heard a door shut. She clicked off the radio and listened. She listened for what seemed like hours.
Nothing. Maria was alone.
Maria relaxed her shoulders and walked into the kitchen. She stared at what was decorating her table.
Roses. Yellow roses. And a piece of notebook paper.
She approached them slowly, as if they might come out and swallow her whole. She unfolded the paper to reveal scrawled writing. There wasn't a greeting.
I can't tell you how sorry I am. Never in a million years would that
happen. I thought I had it under control... I'm really, really sorry,
Maria.
Maria looked up. Did she tell him her name?
I'd like a chance to explain. If you're still willing to take the job
I had offered, you could stop by.
"HA!" Maria startled herself by her sudden outburst.
I'd really like a chance to explain. Please.
Mort Rainey
No number. This man is outrageous.
But they were roses. Beautiful roses.
The phone rang. Maria was on the brink of pissing her pants.
"Hello?"
"Where in Satan's hell are you?!" Maria winced. Good ol' Jacob.
"Sorry, I've had one hell of a night. I-"
"No more excuses, Maria." Well, Jacob was clearly pissed.
"I'm sorry, I'm on my way now."
"No you ain't. You're fired, missy." Maria froze. Either she's crazy or she heard him wrong.
"Wh-What?"
"FIRED" Buzz of an empty line.
"Hell."
Maria sat at her table and stared intently at a flower-printed tile. "What the fuck now?" She rested her aching head on her hands.
It was either live in a box, or get killed by Mort Rainey.
The box sounded inviting.
Maria, once again, found herself in front of Mort Rainey's house. Yes, it is official. I believe they should come take me and put me into the loony's bin. It seemed that it always rained around this man's house. She heard movement in the house and then saw a dark figure come towards the door.
Although she didn't knock.
The door swung open and Maria looked into the deep brown eyes of Mort Rainey. She got a kick out of that name and laughed hysterically in the cab. The driver even thought she was insane. She's met a lot of men, but NONE of them had eyes like that. None had those dark, mesmerizing.... Enchanting eyes.
He smiled. "You got guts, kid."
Maria found her voice. "I need a job." She stepped inside.
The house looked like Mort led in Taz from Looney Toons and let him chase Bugs Bunny. It was, needless to say, a big, fucking trash-hole.
"Sorry about the mess... I really didn't expect you to come back." He led her in to the living room, which was bombarded with paper. Most had "Shooter" written on it. Red ink. It was like re-living a horror movie.
Maria started to wonder if this man had come into contact with a murderer with a gun, or was trying to prove to her he was a nutcase.
"Coke?" Maria took the bottle and stared at it. ITS POISONED, is what her mind screamed. Mort sat beside her. Maria waited for her heart to try and pound its way through her chest, but it didn't come.
Mort chuckled. "You know, last time I had a pretty girl in this house was my ex-wife, Amy."
First thought that popped into Maria's head was: Oh my God, he killed his wife!
"We're divorced." He took a sip from his Coke. He tried not to notice she wasn't drinking hers. It started to rain. It was daylight, thank God.
Mort looked at Maria. She only gazed at the scattered papers.
"How did you know my name?" She was surprised she was making small talk. This was truly a feat. She mentally slapped herself when she remembered her necklace that she had since she was seven. The one that bore her name.
Mort pointed to her necklace. She backed away from his finger.
"You know where I live?"
"On the tag of your purse," Another mental slap for Maria. Well, great. The killer knew where she lived.
"I guess I should explain to you... what in the hell happened last night."
A/N: Well. I guess that will have to do for now.
IRULEYOUALL: Kurt Cobain is the lead singer of Nirvana. [laughs] Its okay, he isn't my hero. My friend is in love with him... er, in love with his corpse. Suicide. Very sad. [smiles] I think its better if people don't know who Johnny Depp is. I don't want to divide him up between other to-become obsessed fans. He will remain ours. Bwahahaha