I'm back. This probably won't be very good because I can't afford to rent the stupid movie so I won't really know his actions/expressions. I do know how he acts sometimes though so I'm going to try this and then re-write it when I see the movie again. By the way. A) I have no idea where this is going and B) I do not own Secret Window or Mort Rainey (Not that I would object to it). C) I feel like I'm just rambling on and on.

As he watched the printer print the story, Mort let his mind wander. He rested his chin on the printing tray and wondered whether or not he should have deleted the end. His end. Perhaps…WHACK. The paper from the printer flew at him with a force that he didn't know paper could fly at. It hit him in the face and half from surprise he stumbled back and fell over with a thud. Putting his hand on his face and shaking his head back and forth, Mort Rainey clumsily pulled himself up on his desk. He sat down heavily on the floor again and stared at the piece of paper. It wavered in and out of focus for a few seconds before he finally comprehended what was written on it. "You stole my story". He dropped the paper as though it was red-hot and jerkily edged away from it. "No," He said aloud. "NO I DIDN'T!"

"Are you sure about that Mort Rainey?" came the sound of Shooter's voice from down-stairs. "You killed those people, what's a little plagiarism to that?"

Mort grabbed the 22 caliber and looked over the railing to where the sound was coming from. Nobody was there. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here". The voice was behind him. Mort pivoted, sweat droplets forming beneath his bottom lip. He wiped the sweat away.

"Goddamnit! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Mort, don't you know your own voice when you hear it." Silence. He's not real, Mort thought, he doesn't exist. I can make him go away…He ran both hands through his silky hair. BANG. The gun went off. Mort jumped over the railing and fell to the first floor stopping only when he hit the table and cracked it in two. His gun was upstairs. When he ran his hands through his hair he dropped it and it went off. Breathe, Mort, he thought even though he was shaking uncontrollably. Breathe…He checked himself for injuries. Miraculously none. Breathe…

"You scare too easy." Mort Rainey's eyes jumped to the stairs, from whence he had heard the voice of Shooter. He was holding the Secret Window manuscript. "You fixed my ending."

"I did."

Shooter merely nodded calculatingly. Then he disappeared. "Crazy, crazy, crazy, DAMNIT, Crazy, crazy…" Mort walked over and lay down on the couch again. There was that damn hat. The crazy gleam that had never really left returned to Mort's eyes. He picked up the hat and went into the kitchen. After a while of rummaging through drawers he managed to find a lighter. With a calmness that he hadn't had but 10 minutes beforehand he set the hat ablaze and giggled evilly until the damn thing burned his hand and he had to let it finish its cremation in the sink.

Putting ice on his reddened and throbbing hand, Mort (Here I must say that I took a brief period of rest I wondered where the heck this piece of crap is going. I finally got around to buying the movie and GUESS WHAT! I read the book! It was excellent! I loved it and obsessed over it for several days. Sadly, Some IDIOT put a chair on top of my bloody Secret Window DVD...I am furious...ugh. Tonight I was planning on watching Fencing but seeing as it's on cable and I don't have cable that's off. So now I have lots of leftover pop and ice cream and so I think I will party until dawn. Therefore I should be able to write several of my pathetically short chapters tonight. Also the rating might go up since in the book he says the F word a lot and I am trying to go more with the book (aside from the fact that he isn't dead of course). So here comes the rest of the chapters!) marveled at how calm he was. No shaking whatsoever. When was the last time he hadn't been shaking? Before he'd finished off that pack of L & M's, that's for sure.

He grabbed a Diet Pepsi and sat about drinking it moodily andwondering what to do with himself. It wasn't as though he could just prance about town, what with everybody knowing that he'd killed Ted and Amy. Oh and a few others... Mort sighed. Perhaps life wasn't all it was made out to be. Shower, Mort thought. I need a shower. Sadly, he didn't have a shower anymore, so that didn't work too well.

He'd just finished setting up his sad, dusty, lonely sprinkler, when the sheriff came by. AGAIN? Mort's brain was screaming, but he quickly managed to shut that off.

"Hallo," said the sheriff.

"Fuck off." said the part of Mort that he'd forgotten to shut off. The sheriff looked slightly stunned. "What was that?" he asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

"Ah, ahem, nothing." Said Mort, all trace of an accent gone. "Would you like some tea?" Now the sheriff looked genuinely confused. Mort's insides giggled spitefully. He gave the sheriff an insane grin and continued, "I made some iced tea yesterday, let it sit in the sun and watched it all day long." He let those last three words linger sing-songingly on his tongue. The sheriff was looking very worried now.

"Well, okay." Hee hee, this idiot always was entertainingly stupid...now how to kill him. Mort's brain, now completely taken over by Shooter, went through a long list of entertaining ways to kill people...there was always arsenic, or overdoses of citric acid, or he could induce hemophilia and poke a whole bunch of holes in the guy...then again, there were easier, quieter, possibleways to do it. Mort imagined himself using a large, shiny knife to silence the man's screams. Again, too loud. A bullet in the stomach would be fun to watch, but rather conspicuous, and he hadn't any poisonous snakes. Finally, Mort decided to use something he once saw on TV (though he didn't consciously acknowledge that it came from TV, let alone the Twilight Zone). He slipped a muscle relaxant into the elderberry tea (MY FAVOURITE!) that he was serving the sheriff, and wondering only briefly what idiot gave it to him.

"I've always loved a good strong cup of tea..." The old fool was saying conversationally. Mort nodded and gave the man an insincere smile, drawing his own cup of tea, nearer, as if by doing so he could take whatever warmth was in it into his own cold heart. The man collapsed immediately, and Mort had little difficulty dragging him down to the lake and dropping him in. Considering the fact that he couldn't move, the sheriff drowned relatively slowly, finally dying with the air of...NOTHING. He couldn't move to create the air of anything, except a bit of a smell. Mort dragged the corpse back up to his house and threw it in the cellar. He would decide what to do with it later.

Thanks to...

Dawnie-7 Yeah, that's just some random thing that whirls around in my insane brain...hee hee that rhymes!

SpArRoWsWeNcH Thanks for the advice, this chapter might get revised once I can buy a new copy of the stupid movie...arghh...

'Mione You might want to learn how to spell good...also, if you want me to be your editor, send me stuff to edit, DUH.