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You wanted part 7, you got it! Welcome to pt. 7 of the "Quest for Mary". Sorry it took so long on this one, as you know, I had a little problem on the wiki, but with the help of Alex, I got things taken care of. I don't think I'll have that problem again, and if I do, I know how to solve it. So, without a further-a-do, please welcome, PART 7!!! (P.S. Woot, woot, woot! :D)
Heather gripped her pistol tight, shaking and nervous but hiding her fear while she waited catiously behind the corner. Suddenly, two gunshots were heard. Heather looked over to see if it was Walter.
Walter was standing there like a bump on a log, his face horrified. He just stared at Heather with blank eyes. He was holding his pistol. "...Mother..." He whispered. Out of nowhere, he fell in a heap on the ground, completely blacked out.
"What the? I didn't even shoot you yet..." Heather looked down at his limp body. A tranquilizer dart had hit him in the back of his neck. He was out cold by far. "...So who did?"
"GAAAAH!" Another body fell from the ceiling, landing right on top of Walter. "OOF!" Heather had more questions than answers, but she kept her trap shut as she watched this new being slowly wobble up.
It was a young woman. Lush and long blonde hair drooped over her shoulders. A part of it was covering her left eye, making it completely invisible. She was wearing a leather jacket, long and slick black boots. But her clothes really didn't match her attitude. She looked as worried and confused as Heather.
"I...I'm sorry..." She looked down at her arm. It was gushing blood. Heather had begun putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The young woman had got Walter with a tranquilizer dart, and in return, he had shot her right back. "Blast it, Walter, you got me."
"Uh...who are you?" Heather asked abruptly while the woman rubbed her arm.
"...I'm Melinda Sanders." She paused and looked down at Walter. "Also known as Jean's Assassin. I believe this belongs to you?" Melinda bent down, yanked Heather's pendant off of her victim's neck, and tossed it to its proper owner.
"Uh, thanks." Heather was still wildly confused, but she was glad that she and her pendant were reunited. "I'm Heather Mason. But you can call me Cheryl if you want."
"Okay, Cheryl Heather Mason," Melinda replied, bending down over Walter. "I've got some business to take care of." She kneeled down against his chest, took out a dagger, and held it over his forehead.
Heather didn't want to watch, but she couldn't help it. The suspense was building at massive amounts. Melinda gripped the dagger and started to sweat. Heather saw the muscles in her jaw bunch. Melinda lifted the dagger up slowly. Her arm was shaking. And finally-
"I...I can't do it. Not yet." She hung her head down and stood back up. "It's too early."
Meanwhile, James was still freaking out over the fact that Laura, a teeny tiny eight year old girl, had managed to lock him in a room full of bloodthirsty monsters. It's like she was some sort of evil mastermind in a puny body. He shot the monsters like he was in some sort of shooting gallery, and they all went down, defeated.
"Uugh..." James started to faint. The world around him faded into rust. He heard a voice continually whispering to him, "James...James...James..."
He woke up, the hospital he once was travelling under a dramatic new transformation. "Oh, cool."
Out of nowhere, Heather dropped down to her knees, her head filling with pain. "UUGH! NOOOO!" The filthy walls seemed to form into the texture of skin, veins or blood slowly slithering along them like disgusting red worms. The doors seemed to disappear in the environment.
"Heather! Heather, are you okay?" Melinda screamed, trying to shake Heather out of it. All around Melinda, the walls swarmed and covered in moss and mold. A disgusting and putrid stench filled everywhere, and the walls appeared to be cracking with her every move. Out of the cracks oozed blood and rot. "Aw, disgusting..."
Heather's head finally stopped throbbing with intense pain, and she managed to get back on her feet. "Aw, disgusting..."
James burst into the room. "WHERE IS THAT LITTLE PUNK?!" He whipped out his shotgun.
Melinda jumped back, almost tripping over Walter. Heather covered her mouth and giggled. "Who, the little girl?"
"YEAH THE LITTLE GIRL! SHE LOCKED ME IN A ROOM FULL OF MONSTERS!" James bellowed. He pumped his shotgun and looked around.
"Come on, James, she's just a little girl. You can't hurt everything that hurts you." Heather giggled, placing one hand on her hip. Melinda tensed visibly.
James finally shook himself off the subject of the little jerk who almost killed him. "Where's Henry?" And with that, the three of them left the room, leaving Walter to his knocked-out state.
"I want my mommy! Gimme my mommy! I want my mommy!" Little Walter wailed as he was dragged along, holding onto Henry's ankle.
"Shut up. Shut up, Walter, shut up." Henry hissed, barely able to drag his foot along.
"You can't make me! I want my mommy!"
"UGH." Henry kept on dragging. "If you keep bugging me, I'll feed you to those two-headed dogs you hate so much."
Little Walter stopped for a moment. Then he started crying. "NOOOO! MOMMY, SAVE ME!"
"So, you were hired to kill Walter, right?" Heather asked, shoving her fists in her pockets while James checked the map.
"Yup, that's the plan." Melinda answered nonchalantly. She kept her head turned slightly away from Heather the whole time.
"So why didn't you just kill him when you had the chance?" Ouch. An arrow to her weak spot. Melinda stopped walking and froze. A book fell from the pocket of her jacket, and Heather picked it up.
"Hey! Watch it! That's my diary!" Melinda's frozen face broke into rage. "...But, if you want answers, they're all in there."
Heather flipped to the first page. "Huh, this was written years ago."
"Yeah, I started writing in it when I was about 16."
And Heather started reading it.
"Dear Diary, I was in the Subway today. I always head there. I'd rather be anywhere else than home. So I just chill out wherever I please. It bugs my Mom, but what the heck? She doesn't care about me anyway.
So I was sitting there, just watching the trains go by and the passengers head in. That's when I heard the girls laughing and the boy stuttering. Hmm, finally, something interesting going on. So I turn my head and I watch it all go down.
I felt sorry for that boy. He looked about my age, your average 15 or 16 year old. But man, was he blowing it. He just couldn't speak right in front of that pretty girl, and whenever he did, she would just blow him off. Finally, he mentioned her name. Where he blew it was when he said he had heard it 10 years ago. That tore it. She dropped him like a pop-tart on a cold floor. He was devastated. And the girl just walked away, kicking him away like he was nothing.
What was I supposed to do? Sit there and allow the boy to crush himself all because something some rude chick said? No! So I got off of the bench, walked over to the boy, and sat down by him. "Hey there."
The boy jumped, as if he were thinking, "Wow! I actually have a human being's attention!" He stared at me for a little bit, just looking into my eyes. "...H...hi..."
I stared right back, and pondered what I was gonna say. "Uh, it was rude, what that girl said to you and all. But she did call you handsome."
This coulda gone on forever, but the kid stopped cause he knew it would. Instead, he simply asked me, "What's your name?"
"Melinda Sanders." I answered. He told me his name. Walter Sullivan. And so we talked for a little bit, and now he's hanging around me like a soft little puppy. He told me to come back tomorrow. I've made a friend."
"...You and Walter were friends?" Heather closed the diary, and Melinda nodded.
"It's sickening, I know. I've been hired to kill someone I've held close to my heart for years. That's why I chickened out when I was going to..." She stopped, as if biting back a repulsive word. "...you know what I was going to do. But when I looked at his face again, I didn't see the crazy, cold-hearted, serial-killing Walter that's been putting terror into the hearts of so many people. I saw that sweet teenage Walter I met in the Subway."
Heather looked back at the page she had just read in disbelief. "...Wow..."
Melinda shifted from foot to foot. "...Yeah...so, do you want me to find Henry for ya?"
"Uh, yeah. Me and Heather will keep looking for that little freak that almost killed me." James growled. Heather giggled. Melinda left.
Walter slowly recovered from the tranquilizer. "...Huh? Heather, you still there?" He felt the back of his neck. "...Ow." He yanked it out.
"I want my mommy! If you don't let me see my mommy, I'll get mad! Gimme my mommy!" The Adult Walter heard his tiny counterpart from behind a door.
"Little me?!" Walter yelled. Henry heard him.
"Oh my God, no. Little Walter, we gotta run." Henry picked up his tiny foe and started running blindly through the hallways. He heard Walter running behind him. Oh no, not now. This couldn't be it. He slammed into a nearby hospital room and hid under a bed.
He pulled little Walter in the bed with him, squeezing him tight and breathing heavily as he watched the adult Walter slowly enter the room. "Hello? Number 21? Me?"
"MOMMA-" Henry quickly covered little Walter's mouth.
He whispered to him, "Hush little Walter, don't you cry, if you do, I'M GONNA DIE!"
Big Walter scoped around the room, opening medicine cabinets, in the corners, in drawers. He started to look under the bed. But right before he could spot Henry and his little self-
"Just leave 'em alone, Walter." He heard a woman's voice come from behind him. He turned around.
"...And who might I say is telling me to?" He crossed his arms impatiently.
The woman remained completely calm. She beckoned him toward her. She waited until his ear was right by her lips. "...Your worst nightmare." With that, she slammed her fist right into the back of his head, and he let out a very loud "AAH!"
"GO, HENRY, GO!" Melinda screamed. Henry nervously scattered out from under the hospital bed, grabbed little Walter, and fled the room.
Things are gonna get very suspenseful. Part 8, anyone?