A/N Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. I was a little caught up in school and such. I also suffered through a small case of writers block for a little while there x_x. Too much stress.

Disclaimer!: Refer to the first chapter for the basic disclaimer blah-blah. And I don't claim to own Michael Jackson… thank god. Don't sue me. I don't own Geoffrey Rush

either. Or sadly, Johnny Depp. *sniffle*

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James closed the heavy iron door of Woodflank Apartments behind him. He was beginning to wonder why he got himself into this mess. Was revenge really enough? Is there another reason why he's here? Well now he's here alone in this disturbing place full of rampaging strippers and a lunatic man with short term memory loss.

"Well." James sighed, leaning his back against a rusted wall. "Things can only go up from here."

What poor James doesn't realize is that he's wrong. Very wrong. To James' immediate left was a conveniently placed map of the apartments. James snatched it off the wall and studied it closely. After a short search of the room and finding nothing interesting, he decided to ascend the stairs. He stopped at the first door and tugged on it. To his surprise, It opened.

James peered his head into the long, rather damp looking hallway. When no rabid stripper pounced out of the dark to torment him, James stepped into the hall and had a look around. He tried the first door and found to his utter annoyance that the lock was broken, and could not be open. James jiggled the handle of the second door and found that is was also locked.

He growled in annoyance.

"I'll have to break it down then!"

He drew out his stripper-bashing plank of doom and aimed a heavy blow at the handle of the door. Yet, to his dismay, the plank magically flew through the door, harming nothing. James blinked at his plank, and then to the door. With a squeak of agitation, he lowered his plank.

"Damned physical limits of a pixilated environment." He muttered.

He found sight of another door that seemed promising. Thankfully, the door opened into an illuminated room. James quickly found the source of the illumination; A horribly tacky dress was displayed on a mannequin dummy standing out like Michael Jackson in the middle of the room. In the breast pocket of the dress was yet again another conveniently placed object; a pocket flashlight. James snatched the flashlight from the eye-soar of a dress and stuck it neatly in the pocket of his army-like coat.

At this exact moment, as if on cue, a hideous beast flung itself from the floor. James was immediately reminded of Michael Jackson again. James felt like beating himself over the head to remove the disturbing mental images clinging to his brain.

The demon looked like someone stripped Geoffrey Rush (Better known as Captain Barbossa from the 2003 hit; Pirates of the Caribbean. Wonderful actor I tell you. Johnny Depp rules.), replaced his arms with legs, injected him with steroids, took off his head, dipped him in glue, re-animated his body and set it lose on the streets.

James shrieked with horror and beat the Rush demon to a bloody pulp. He beat it a few extra times to make sure that it kicked the bucket. At this point, James was sure this place was out to get him.

James quickly retreated out of the room and glanced around uneasily, as if waiting for another Rush to appear out of nowhere. After a short examination of the 2nd floor hall and finding nothing notable, James climbed to the 3rd floor. In one of the rooms, James found a hand gun nestled in a shopping cart. Of course, he took the weapon. Looking around the room he noticed that all of the walls were dotted with hundreds of bullet holes. Someone must have had a lot of free time to do all this with only a handgun.

Back in the rotted 3rd floor hallway again, James noticed a key on the other side of some metal bars blocking his path. Coming to a decision that the key must be significant, he kneeled down on the floor and strained to reach the key.

Suddenly, something crushed his hand. James withdrew it quickly to see a blond little girl kick the key away from him, sending it sprawling across the floor.

"Ha-Ha!" The little girl said in the MOST annoying tone imaginable.

"Get back here you little bitch!" James shrieked. He stood up quickly, drew out his new hand gun and shot blindly through the bars and into the dark after the little girl. After firing off a few rounds he listened for any screams of pain.

"Missed me, missed me!" The irritating voice echoed through the hall. Her insane giggling and fading footsteps are heard off in the distance.

"AAARRRRGGGG!!!!" Yelled James, "I'll get you!"

James paced in frustration, seriously considering shooting himself, after he killed the damned girl of course. He pondered about how to get to the other side. He remembered something about a clock. So James retraced his steps and walked back into the second floor hallway. Just as he began walking along the hall, he heard a scream that sounded like a baby's cry. James writhed in disgust. Curious, he followed the noise until he arrived at a dead end in the hall, blocked off by more bars. On the other side of the bars, was a THING. James stared at it as it stared back in a threatening, "I've-come-for-you-and-I'm-in-your-mind" sort of way. James made out it's features with the light from his pocket flashlight. It resembled what you'd might imagine if David Bowie ran into the street, stuck his head in a traffic cone, was burned alive and spray painted, then run over by a semi truck. Yup, It's good old traffic-cone head.

After staring at Traffic-cone for a while James came to the conclusion that it wasn't going to leave while he was standing there. So he opened a nearby door and shut himself in the room. James couldn't shake that gross feeling he got from Traffic-cone's stare. He wasn't able to note any signs of a face or emotion behind that metal cone, but he was sure that he was being stared at. Like it was burrowing into his mind.

James quickly shook the disturbing thoughts. But as he looked around the room, disturbing thoughts returned. A dead man laid in an armchair, his blood completely soaking the chair and spilling across the floor. The T.V. was on, but it showed only static. James examined the man. He had a gut feeling that maybe Traffic-cone killed him, or maybe another human even. But who would do something like this without any motivation? James scoffed. He could do a better job then this. With motivation of course.

James found a key on a shelf in the murdered man's room. It was the key to room 202. And so, James when through a wild "Find-the-key-and-open-the-door" thing multiple times until he ended up back at that grandfather clock. He used the newfound clock key to open up the face. He messed with the clock needles until he heard a click. James smiled at his own cleverness as he shoved the clock across the floor and discovered an opening into another room.

He squeezed inside with the swiftness of an obese, neutered cat and looked around the room. When nothing caught his eye (besides a red sticky note type-thing) he continued through the apartments. The door he opened lead him to a stairwell, so He climbed to the 3rd floor in hopes of obtaining the key the little girl kicked. Since there seemed to be a few door here James tried them out until one of them opened.

James had accidentally walked on to a gruesome scene that would scar him for life. A horrible mental image was now planted in his brain that would haunt him forever.

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A/N To be continued. I have to go get busy on some homework now. Bleh, this sucks. I'll be sure to update sooner. *smile-smile*