(you know that song in 'Ghost' with the penis clay thing)

Yep, wrote a bit more for chapter three.

Hope your excited Z.

Wicked Things.

Chapter three: Home coming.

Paranoia.

That's what I feel first, then comes the panic in waves with a hint depression to top it all off.

I try, I really try to calm myself down but it is no use. My heart beats, no, screams! I take deep breaths, hoping it will all end soon. But, I know it won't...I know this. I let a sigh escape and try to relax on this moldy from the early seventies- want their couch back- out of your mom's wreck room but, it doesn't work. We were at a thugs house, somewhere in the slums. The retards and their ring leader were all in the other room, I take notice the staples stitched along my jaw ache.

I could hear the murmurs of voices in discussion in the next room over, the bastards were planning something and I wasn't allowed in their tree house meeting. I think it was because I am a girl or they can't trust me, or both.

A switch went off in my head.

Escape.

I whip my head around, thrill and fear seeping into my heart making it jolt every two beats. I slowly lift my ass from the squeaky seat, my vital organ thumping in my throat and I slowly straighten my knees out until I am upright. I am over come when I look up the stairs and see the basement door open and part of the outside door beyond. I forget to look at where I am stepping and I fall suddenly, gasping and bang my chin on the thin, thin rug with concrete beneath it. I lay there motionless, my eyes locked on the shut door...In it I can hear the joker laughing.

My spine suddenly chills.

And warmth spreads around my chin and neck, am I bleeding?

I lift my feet up...Someone tied my shoe laces together while I was out. I wonder who did that...

Son of a bitch.

I kick off my shoes, pissed.

I scramble up and lunge up the stairs not caring if I sound like stampede as I boom over the old wooden steps. I don't look behind me, I don't care.

I leap the last few steps to freedom and I hit the glass door, my hands shooting out for the knob and twisting it...But it doesn't twist. It's stuck. I s-ha-ke it and s-ha-ke it. I don't want to scream but I feel my chest and throat with a loud angry hums, they could be behind me. He could be behind me. I jerk it, twist it, slam my palm against it. Nothing. I want to cry, scream and stomp.

I hear a door open down below and laughter and music floats up the stair case, I flee to the kitchen on my left. I stop halfway into the living room, freezing in my place. Where to hide? My eyes spin around the room, spasm-ing from fear and excitement. I spot the perfect hide! Behind the old ragged recliner!! Nobody will look for behind that piece of shit. I land on my knees and lunge behind the chair, tucking and squeezing myself between the rotten cunt smelling fabric and the tobacco stained wall.

I hear someone slowly stomping up the stairs...Pausing after each step as if they were smiling at the number of my blood pressure or if they were waiting for a sign, or breathing.

I swallow, my mouth dry and my tongue cold and hard. If it is who I'm of thinking...Then everything they do is to freak me out. I'm freaking out.

There is a lump in my pocket...I never noticed before.

A cell phone, my cell phone! Whoo! Fuck-yeah!!

I take it out and start to fiddle with it...Now how do you turn it on again? Is it the end button or the call one? I sit and stare at the lifeless thing.

My ears have taken on elvish skill, hearing every pin drop, every creak, maybe even the low humming sound is a heart beat...Is it coming closer? Fuck.

I will my body to still, the only sound I hear is the blood rushing to my ears.

It seems like forever I sat there waiting for who ever or what ever to find me, to hurt me. But, no one came.

No one was there it seemed.

I pep talk myself into peering behind the chair which only took a three minutes and I know this because I could hear a ticking of a clock in the distance some where.

I decided if someone was there I would beat them senseless with this hunk of plastic and escape from a window.

Slowly I peek...No one.

Wow...I am really that paranoid.

I got up on my knees and started to get to my feet when cool stale breath came upon me. I shuddered. ''Do you know where the bathroom is?'' I ask, I already knew who it is. Who else would have cat like skill to climb on to the recliner without making it squeak in protest and peek behind it, watching my every nervous move with a permanent (I mean permanent) smile fixed upon his painted white washed face and breathe on me with deathly air not even the longest deadest thing in the world turned zombie could ever recreate? No one that's who.

The Joker grinned down on me, his warm rotting breath steamed into my mouth (also leaving a very unpleasant aftertaste!) as his smile stretched past normal human lengths and into the disturbingly impossible.

''Well surrrrrreee...'' He purred softly like the cat that caught the mouse, ''You just have to...'' His voice going up the scale and then back down again, ''Have to do a favor for me."

I closed my mouth that had been hanging open, letting in all that nasty funk coat my tongue and inner walls and I smacked my lips, swallowed to get it out or at least dimmed down a bit. T.J watched me like a statue, his eyes following my every twitch and jitter, patiently (for a change) awaiting my answer. I breathed deeply and my lungs choked me, making me gag and sputter out a pathetic ''Umhm'' in a squeaked tone as I clutched my ribs.

''We'll spit on it then!'' He hopped behind the tiny space with me, crushing me against the wall and his knees landed into my stomach-slash-Uterus.

I yelped and tried to sprang away but I was pressed (very) uncomfortably against him too.''..It.'' He snapped through closed teeth.

''Okay! Okay...'' I brought my dirty palm to my mouth to spit (hopeful to get some of the nastiness left behind out) But, he grabbed my hand away and hawked a lugi on my now defiled palm...And he wasn't done.

For he smiled even more, passing beyond impossible.

With werewolf like speed (they can go at the speed of sound you know...Or that's what I heard) he smacked me, hand and Lugi all. Some of the muck found it's self streaked across my face almost reaching my flaking lips and I could only stare at him with shock, trauma and fear that it would finish the race.
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Stay Tuned.