Title: No Such Thing as Forever

Summary: The one survivor of Samara never lasted long enough. Now it's time to discover how she survived in the first place. But Samara won't allow it, will she?

A/N: Yeah, this is my first The Ring fanfiction. I've had the idea for quite a while, but I haven't been sure whether to make it its own story on FictionPress, or weave it into The Ring somehow. Obviously, The Ring won.

PROLOGUE...

Katie clutched her clipboard with fear as she walked into the white mental hospital room. She cocked her head, her long brown curl falling to the left of her face. A girl was facing the wall, her face not visible to Katie.

The girl was about 4 years of age. Short, wispy blonde hair curled right above the shoulder. She sat in a chair, hands holding on the sides as if letting go would cause great pain.

Katie looked at her clipboard. According to it, this young girl was (to Katie's surprise) 7 years old. Her name was Katie, much to the brunette's dismay.

The older Katie skimmed to the bottom where it says the problem. She was new to this job, so she was still leaning against the door, slightly frustrated that she could only leave if the people outside of the room let her out.

She let out a sigh, and whispered, "Oh, my God."

A picture was stapled right where the hospitalization reason would be. It was a picture of a girl with black hair covering her face and some liquid, that she refused to believe was blood, dripping from her hands. Katie ripped it off, and looked at the back. Scribbles. And then she found one word. No two. Wait, three, no, four words.

Samara will get you

Samara, Katie thought, Who's Samara?

She looked up. The chair had moved so the younger Katie was facing the older one. The younger one tilted her head more, her eyes out of focus. The older Katie gasped in horror.

Her face was pretty much a huge scab, eyes yellowing, no lips or nose. Not even teeth. Just gaping holes.

The young girl spoke, "Hello."

Katie shuddered, "Uh, yes, yes, hello, Katie." She did not understand why she was so scared, she saw pictures of her out of this room.

"What's your name?" asked the child, her voice peircingly high."

"K-Ka-t-tie. We share a name."

The younger Katie blinked, and replied, "Oh, my. Well then, you shall call me Kat."

Katie raised her eyebrows. Since when does someone speak like that anymore?

Kat got up. Katie felt herself pressing her body onto the wall.

Kat spoke, "You are scared aren't you?"

"No. N-no. I'm not. I'm not scared. I'm supposed to talk to you."

Kat sat down, "Okay. Speak."

"What happened to you?"

Kat frowned, "All the people in white ask me that. And I tell them, but they won't believe me. Neither will you."

Katie bit her lip. And then she firmly said, "Well, I need to know."

"Well, my best friend got me a movie for my birthday. We watched it. I kept getting a nose bleed. Then my friend died. 7 days after we watched it. 7 days." She paused and sniffed, wiping what was left of her nose, "And then a girl came to me. I couldn't see her face. It was cover by black hair. She came out of the TV, and ripped my face off!" Kat started to cry.

"Oh! There there, Kat!" said Katie, who grew less afraid of Kat each second, and felt a bit of pity towards her.

Kat got up, and ran to Katie and hugged her, and said, "Thank you! Thank you for staying, you do believe me?"

"Yes, of course!" lied Katie. She didn't know if she believed it. But, it was her job to look into it.

Kat smiled and skipped to her chair.

"My story ends like this. Samara bit and ate my face, but I kept on fighting, until she thought I'd just die of blood loss. Mommy came and wrapped my face up. She cried and sent me here when I told her. My face itches so badly! They won't let me scratch it. You will though. You are nice."

Katie was too shocked to respond, but Katie lifted her uncut finger nails and stratched at her face. It came off.

"Katie! Help! Please! It hurts! Mommy! DADDY! Please help!" shrieked Kat, in agony.

Katie ran out of the room and allowed everyone else stream into it, so help her in the way Katie could not.

Five minutes later, a young man can out, and said, quite hoarsly , "Katie, she's dead."

The woman let the tears stream down her face.

So, how was it? Should I continue? I do have a story building up in my head, so review me and tell me if I should keep going or not. Please?