Ad blocker interference detected!
Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers
Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.
Cheryl sighed in irritation as Heather and Aiden tried to grab a key. "ITS...STUCK...ON...THERE....FOR....GOOOD!" Heather groaned as she tugged on it one last time. "It's no use." Aiden grunted as he tried. "We need something to soften the putty. Or glue or whatever it is." Heather grumbled. "Nailpolish." Cheryl stated as she examined the glue-like substance. "You know this because...?" Aiden trailed off. "Science pays off in school ok?" Cheryl grumbled. "Luckily, I grabbed this while we were in the locker room." Cheryl pulled out a bottle and poured it around the key area. "That should do it." Cheryl announced as she pulled the key off and tossed it towards Heather.
Brad wanted to kick Isaac in the nads hard enough for Walter to feel it. Wait, wouldn't that be the other way around? "So, where do we find a camera?" Mandy asked Brad as she tried to keep Isaac from running too far. "Good question. Lets try the 3rd floor no?" "Nah, maybe we over looked something on the second floor." Mandy muttered. "I'm bored." Isaac whined. "And I want my mommy!" "SHUT UP!" Mandy and Brad screamed in unison.
"Keys, keys, the more the marrier." Aiden skipped as he sang. Cheryl opened a door that read "Morgue". "Lets check it out." Cheryl grabbed Heather's arm and dragged her through the door. "WHOLLY SALSA!" Cheryl shouted as she ducked behind Heather. "It's a body Cheryl." Heather rolled her eyes and looked at the papers on the desk. "Hey look Heather!" Cheryl called as she examined the body's ankle. "The start time is my key." Cheryl read aloud. "Think thats bad, check this out" Heather grabbed a clipboard and started to read what was on it. "Background: unknown. Name/age: unknown. Not admitted patient. Found in poor mental state on hospital grounds and temporarily installed in room M4 at chief's discretion. Died late tonight from blood loss due to severed carotid artery. Was grasping own kitchen knife in right hand; assume this was cause of neck wound. Possible suicide; but wound angle suspicious. Sent to 2nd floor treatment room for further investigation. Have received no proof or corroboration of event from patient residing in same room. Have not notified police. However, for future necessity, leave victim's bed and effects intact (room M4)."
"Room M4? Lets check it out!" "Already did." Aiden entered the room. "There was another diary, a suitcase and a alarm clock that made me scream." Aiden reported as he tossed the diary over to Cheryl. "It says: There was a tattooed guy on that rumpled bed. Not any more, though. That alarm clock and filthy bag are his. Ah, but don't misunderstand. I haven't done a thing. I didn't hate him, though he was a liar. Shall I write something of my own? On my chest, since I can't cut it open to show you my heart. "I Love Heather". No, something a bit more forceful. "I Love Heather" isn't enough for what I feel. Oh, what tender emotion this image brings... Stanley Coleman"
"EEEW! Heather went to swipe it from Cheryl's hand but Cheryl was smart this time. She threw the book over to Aiden and ran away from Heather. Heather tackled Aiden and grabbed the journal. "THIS BASTARD HAS TO DIEE!" She screamed as she stomped the book. Aiden and Cheryl leaned away from Heather and faked a smile. "Lets go to the room." Heather growled as she threw the door open and stomped down the hallway. "I'd hate to be on her badside." Aiden whispered to Cheryl. "Agreed." Cheryl gave Aiden a thumbs up. "IN HERE!" Heather suddenly shouted. Aiden screamed and jumped into Cheryl's arms while Cheryl started running as fast as she could.
"Who won the stanley cup in 1914?" Walter circled Justin as he tied him up to a chair. "Um.." "THERE WAS NO HOCKEY BACK THEN!" Walter bitchslapped Justin and grabbed his Razor Blades and Lemon Juice. "Who did the Red Sox play for?" He asked quizically. "Um uh uh..." "BOSTON!" Walter cut Justin's arm. "AAH! I'M SORRY!" "Who did the Oilers play for?" "Edmonton?" "Correct." Walter cut one of 59 ropes tied around Justin. "Who created Family Guy?" "Seth Maclain?" "WRONG!" Walter grabbed Justin's arm and poured Lemon Juice on it. "AAAAH! PLEASE! NO MORE!" Justin sobbed. "Who owns Microsoft?" "Bill Clinton?" "BILL GATES!" Walter slashed Justin's arm again. "AAAH! I MEAN BILL GATES!" "Correct." Walter grinned evilly as he slashed another rope. Poor Justin Bieber had 58 more ropes to go so he can be free.
Mandy was scared as hell as they entered the second floor. They heard someone scream. "Maybe it's Heather?" Brad suggested as they crept down the hallway. "I sure as hell hope so and not some---" "GRRR" "AAAH!" Brad screamed louder than Mandy and jumped into Isaac's arms. "Nurse!" Brad whimpered. "ATTTACK!" Mandy grabbed Brad's frying pan and started to go crazy with it. "KIIIYAH WONG TONG NYANYA!" Mandy was having fun. "I'M OUUTTA HERE!" Isaac screamed as he ran down the hallway and opened the door at the end.
"AAAH!" Cheryl screamed as she crawled under the bed. Just then, someone barged through the door carrying someone. The dude ran into Aiden and screamed. "YOU IDIOTS!" A girl screamed down the hallway as she barged into the room and attacked Heather. "Mandy? Brad? Isaac?" Aiden asked. "No shit sherlock." Everyone said in unison. Aiden rolled his eyes and scrambled to his feet. "So what's wrong with Isaac?" "You mean Walter?" "WHAT?!" Aiden, Cheryl and Heather asked as they looked at Isaac. "I WANT MY MOMMY." Was all he said in response. "Oh yeah." Brad grabbed Mandy and Cheryl's heads.
"WHOA!" Cheryl stumbled around for a little bit and looked around. "I'M TALL AGAIN!" She cried with joy. Mandy was banging her face off of the floor. "I'm not short!" She mumbled in between bashing her face. Brad smiled while Heather was amused. "Lets get this suitcase open." Brad muttered as he roamed over to the dusty bag and figeted with the lock. "SOMEONE TURN OFF THE CLOCK!" Aiden shouted. Heather smashed it with her fist and examined the clock face. "7893?" Heather read aloud as she squinted and tried to read the numbers better. "This blood is kinda smeared." She complained. "Try it." Cheryl suggested. Brad turned the lock a few times until a soft *click* filled the air. "Alrighty then." Brad threw open the lid and peered inside. "A camera?" Aiden asked as Brad held it up high. "Yup and I know where to use it." Brad announced as he pushed everyone aside and started leading the way.