We...have reached...the 20's! Two parts in one day (this, for me, means on a roll). I feel like doing a happy dance! Part 20! So. You're here to read it, I s'pose...well, seems how I've written it and seems how you wanted it...READ IT!

James stared up at the building before him, memories of Mary and her angel-smooth voice slowly filling his mind, along with treasured thoughts of what the hotel used to be. What used to be a haven for him and Mary had now been decorated by moss, blood, rust, and rot. He let out a sigh at that horrid realization. "Come on guys, let's go in."

Little Walter noticed a small music box by one of the filthy fountains that stood before the hotel in the dying gardens. He picked it up and started gnawing on it while following after James.

Creaking open the door, James reached his flashlight in and slowly swerved it around. "This is all so familiar..." He whispered, squinting at the intricate paintings on the wall. "Me and Mary used to sit on that staircase all the time, just talking to each other." He pointed at a broad staircase, lush red carpet draping over each and every step.

"What kind of stuff would you talk about?" Heather asked, examining the paintings.

James ran his fingers through his hair. "She always told me how beautiful this town was, and how she wanted to come back someday. I promised we would...but then she got the disease and..." His voice died down and he sighed, walking over to another door.

Everyone looked over at each other and shrugged, continuing to follow their leader. The next room was much brighter, save for the mist that had gathered on the windows and was blocking out all (if any) sunlight. James turned off his flashlight. It was a properly and beautifully decorated dining hall, the tables set up in a perfect formation and white cloth blanketing them.

"Oh, cool! A piano!" Henry laughed, running over to the enormous piano that stood in the corner of the room. Suddenly, a loud, ominous chord was played. "EEP!" Henry grew extremely pale and fainted, hitting the floor with a solid whumpf. A wet spot appeared on his pants.

"EW!" All of the girls yelled.

Little Laura came out from behind the piano, giving a ghastly smile and whispering, "Ha! Did I scare you?"

James whipped out his shotgun and aimed at Laura's head. "AHA! EAT LEAD, YOU SNOTTY LITTLE-" Heather let out a cry and snatched his shotgun from him.

"James, you can't just kill someone cause they locked you in a room full of bloodthirsty monsters!" She grumbled.

"Try me." He took out his handgun and Heather grabbed that from him, too. "GRRR..." He took out his chainsaw and Heather kicked him in the groin. He gladly decided not to attack Laura.

Laura seemed to have no clue that James had tried to kick her bratty little butt. "So, did you find Mary? Huh? Did you? Huh?"

"No..." James barely was able to make his groans of pain into a word as he slowly stood. "Sorry, you little son of a..." Heather stomped on his foot. "I MEAN LITTLE ANGEL."

"Oh. That's too bad. I got a letter from her and all that good stuff if you wanna read it." Laura giggled as she took out a letter. James tried reaching for it, but Henry ended up grabbing it.

"Blah blah blah, hey Laura, how you doin, blah blah, don't be a punk to James-" He read, but James interrupted.

"Don't be a punk to me? Little late for that one..." He grumbled.

"Blah blah, he may be a little surly sometimes-"


"Blah blah, but he's still a nice guy, blah blah. Hope to adopt you, blah blah, happy 31st...I mean 8th birthday."

James snatched the letter from the smug Henry and read it over again just to make sure he wasn't lying. "Hmmm...Laura, when'd you turn 8?" James asked, sitting down on a table.

"Just last week," She replied while she drew a picture of a mentally-retarded looking cat.

Everyone looked at each other again. Maybe Mary really was alive after all. James leaned over to Heather. "Can I have my weapons back so I can slaughter this demon?!"

"What demon?!" Heather hissed.

James pointed at Laura. "THAT demon." Heather stomped on his foot again.

Laura walked over to Eileen and pointed to her back. "What's with that weird tattoo? 20121..."

"WHY YOU LITTLE..." Eileen swung her fist at Laura, who ducked and shreiked and ran behind Heather.

Little Walter kept staring at Laura with puppy-dog eyes. He leaned over to her and whispered, " wanna hang out s...s...ometime?" He tried giving his best imitation of a lady's man pose, which wasn't much since he was only a toddler and toddlers couldn't be some supermodel.

"Ew! You're creepy." Laura scowled while she skipped away from him.

Little Walter looked up at Heather, then at Henry, and then at everyone else. He was preparing his ultimate weapon. He felt his lips quiver, his body shake, his eyes filling up with tears, and out of nowhere, his mouth gaped open. "AAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAH!" He burst into tears and screamed so loud the windows could shatter.

"SHUT HIM UP!" Everyone yelled, covering their ears. Henry took out a bottle of chocolate milk and handed it to him.

Little Walter examined the carton, still wildly screeching. He took a gulp and suddenly he looked like he had tasted something surprisingly good. "Ooooh man. That was AWESOME."

Laura tried grabbing the carton. It became a rapid tug-a-war.

"Gimme it!" She growled.

"No!" Little Walter gave it another sharp tug.

Laura tugged harder, and little Walter fell flat on his butt. "Darn it..." He grumbled. "One day, if I become a physchotic serial killer and end up killing 21 people, YOU'LL BE...what comes after 21? Um...22!"

"Like that's gonna happen." Laura teased, chugging the chocolate milk down and sticking her tongue out at him once she was finished.

Henry kneeled down to Laura. "...You don't know how right he is..."

Laura looked up at Henry with a puzzled expression. "Uh..." She looked over at little Walter, then back at Henry. "You're stupid." And then she skipped away, leaving everyone in the room to wonder what the heck just happened.

Part 20 has been completed! But the series isn't over yet. 21, anyone?

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