ring: nonpoint

by Justin DiGesu

---

PROLOGUE

         A dim light from outside is all that can penetrate the darkness in cottage B4. The cottage looks normal; a mantle, a small TV with VCR, a small couch, and bed near the back corner. Among the mantlepiece, a newspaper is lit up from the light shining in through the windows. On it, an article headline boldly prints in Japanese characters, which translate, 'Death Strikes Fear In Four'. The article is dated September 22, 1997, and translated, it reads:

         'In the span of two days, three people were found dead outside of Izu. Tomoko Ouichi, 17, was found dead in her home on Sunday, September 5, and the next day, two other bodies were found in a vacant parking lot parallel to Yokohama Prefectural Road. The bodies were identified as Tsuji Youko, age 17, a student of the Seikei School for Women, and Nomi Takehiko, 19, a preparatory school student. Both victims lived in Yokohama. No leads were found to determine the cause of death, but approximately two weeks later another body, identified as Ryuji Takayama, was found dead in the same manner as the other three bodies. Police suspect that a ring may be forming, and--'

         Nothing more from the article could possibly be read. A large red line crossed through the rest of the article, and over this line the word 'ring' repeats itself in red, erratically written letters, replacing the rest of the text of the article. The reflection from the blackness of the lifeless TV shows a figure, long stringy hair covering the face, and a white gown covers the rest of the body. The figure disappears momentarily in a flash, then reappears in the reflection, but disappears again. Static is now on the TV screen, but the sound of white noise isn't heard. It's the sound like nails on a chalkboard, and a popping and crackling sound in the background. And as if the TV was put on mute, the TV goes silent, and allows the picture of static to contort and twist, forming a circular pattern in the middle of the screen.

         Forming a ring.

CHAPTER 1: trivial conversation

         Stephen Marsh stood up from the bed he was sitting on and stretched out his arms, emitting a low pitched yawn as he did so. He adjusted the baggy black pants he had slid on, tightening his belt while he looked around the small, unorganized room. He admired the look it had: Dark color painted walls, various rock band posters scattered amongst them, a Sony 27" TV being supported by a wooden stand that looked like it'd had better days, and clothes that have been sloppily thrown on the carpeted floor. Stephen spots one in the bunch, and picks it up, swiping at it in a feeble attempt at getting off any lint or dust balls off of it before throwing it over his head.

         'BAM BAM BAM'

         Stephen's face, although inside his shirt, looks up to acknowledge the loud knocking that had just come. He pulls down the shirt so he can look at the open doorway to his room, which reveals the long hallway that connects with the rest of Stephen's small apartment home. The openings to the left and right of the hall, from Stephen's position, lead to the bathroom on the right, then the living room on the left. Farther down on the left is the kitchen, and then around the corner to the right is the front door, where the knocking had come from. His attention slowly drifted away from the knocking however, as he fought with surprising difficulty to get his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

         "God, I need new clothes," He thought to himself while pushing his arms through the shirt sleeves. He sighed as he smoothed out his shirt, trying to get out a few wrinkles in it while also looking over his tall, skinny frame.

         'BAM BAM BAM'

         Stephen was drawn away from deeming whether or not he looked just decent enough to not scare away any salesman that could possibly be awaiting behind the front door. He then shrugged and took a step forward, body leaning towards the open doorway when he stopped, slowly turning around to acknowledge the sound of a stirring behind him. He then smiled warmly as he looked down at Maya Watts, his short black haired girlfriend, who had turned her body to its other side, now facing Stephen, with eyes closed and covers pulled up to her neck. Stephen smirked, admiring her beauty, her delicate pale skin running circles in his mind, and he stared at her, dreamily, before his attention span was taken away from her.

         'BAM BAM BAM'

         "These fucking people are so goddamned persistent," He said to himself. He scratched his head, only making more of a mess of his short and straight brown hair, and he grabbed a pair of socks, also on the floor, and quickly put them on. He walked into the long hall, passing the bathroom, under the light that shined over him and gave the room a yellow painted feel, then he passed the living room, then the kitchen, and around the corner to see a rundown front door, paint chips slowly peeling away, brittle, rust colored hinges. Stephen's right hand reached out for a set of locks on the door. He grabbed at one lock and turned it counter clockwise. He then grabbed another one just underneath that, looking the same but different in size, and turned it counter clockwise, and then the bottom most of the three locks, a chain, which he grabbed and slid out of the lock. He opened the door, revealing Jericho, a long, stringy black haired man who immediately smirked in seeing his friend on the other side of the door, and lowered his right hand which was clenched in a fist, ready to knock on the door again. His other hand was holding a black rectangular item, which Stephen didn't notice.

         "Hey, Stephen," Jericho spoke with a smirk. Stephen nodded in Jericho's presence and they ahook hands, each staring into the other's green eyes.

         "Hey, Jerry, what's goin' on?" Stephen replied as he stepped back from the door, allowing Jericho inside the

hall. Jericho acknowledge his being called Jerry, and did every other time Stephen would call him that. They had been longtime friends, ever since Stephen had moved to the apartment years ago and they had met in sixth grade. The look they gave each other in their eyes obviously showed the wear and tear they had both gone through over the years.

         Stephen closed the door behind Jericho, sliding the chain into its lock once again, and Jericho walked into the kitchen, Stephen right behind. Jericho headed right for the fridge, obviously knowing his way around the apartment as well as Stephen did, and he pulled out a beer, a Corona.

         "You don't mind me havin' a beer, right?" He asked with a mischevious grin as he put the black rectangular item down on the counter across from the fridge, and then closed the refrigerator door after. Stephen shrugged his shoulders and smiled warmly, motioning towards the beer and tilting his head slightly in a careless manner.

         "Nah I don't mind, mi casa, su casa, am I right?" He replied as he scratched his head, his spindly fingers penetrating his brown hair. Jericho laughed, and nodded his head as he grabbed the item he had momentarily left on the counter and walked into the living room via the doorway which connected the two rooms. Stephen walked in with him and they both sat on a leather sofa, where, across from them, was a nice looking entertainment system. A 31" TV, with a VCR, DVD player, sub woofers, the works. Stephen grabbed the remote control that was on the coffee table in front of them, and clicked the power button on the slick black remote. What came on was the news, on channel seven. Jericho's face contorted in a way that looked as if he was about to spit about the beer he had just taken a sip of. He swallowed, almost painfully, and spoke with a slight cough.

         "What the hell is this? The smart guy's been watchin' the news, eh?" He spoke in between coughs. Stephen laughed at Jericho's comment, and changed the channel to MTV and turned up the TV volume while he retorted.

         "The news isn't all that's on that channel, brother, just a little news flash of my own for you," he said, which made Jericho lower his head in a mocking way.

         "Thanks for sharing your knowledge, almighty one.." He spoke softly, with a cheesy smirk. He then lifted his head back up, and took a swig of the beer in his hand, before putting the bottle down on the table, as well as the item, which he put next to it. Jericho then turned towards Stephen, and shrugged.

         "So.. What's been happenin' with you?" He said in mid-yawn. Stephen sat in his portion of the couch, not knowing what to say, while Jericho stretched his arms up above his head.

         "Ehh, nothin' much. Me and Maya went to the movies last night," Stephen said with an unsure shrug. Jericho then snapped his head toward his beer to take a quick sip before looking back at Stephen, suddenly intrigued.

         "Heh, yeah? What movie?" He spoke with enthusiasm. Stephen looked at Jericho, smelling bad vibes from Jericho's sense of questions, but nontheless he answered.

         "Signs," was Stephen's reply. Jericho paused for a brief moment to stare at Stephen with wide-eyed disbelief before he started laughing. Stephen eyed Jericho, wondering what was so funny.

         "What? What is it?" Stephen asked, while Jericho attempted to control his laughter. He waved a hand in front of Stephen, and turned his head away, trying to calm himself down.

         "Ahh nothin', but..." Jericho began, but trailed off in midsentence. He was about to finish, but didn't know how to put the rest of his sentence. He simply shrugged, and shook his head.

         "Eh, what's the worst he can say?"

         "Ah what the hell, you two have known each other for the longest, almost as long as you've known me. But hey

I don't mean that in a bad way, I think it's great to know that her tits aren't bigger than her brain like most women today. She has good taste, Stevie, she's not like any of those chicks we'd see on the street corner every day, and it's just funny that I know a person who was lucky enough to catch someone like that. Cos a girl like that is one in a million, ya know that, right?" Jericho smiled at the end of his speech, thinking of it as nothing less than a masterpiece. Stephen then laughed, and mocking Jericho's actions moments ago, lowered his head while he spoke.

         "Thank you for the love speech of a lifetime, almighty one," he retorted, and sat back up, waiting for Jericho to respond, but not without Stephen having something else to say. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't degrade my girlfriend's tits." He smiled slyly, and they both then looked each other in the eyes once again before they began to burst out into laughter. Jericho then slapped Stephen on the shoulder, playing around, but Stephen then put a finger to his lips, quieting Jericho's loud laughing.

         "Shh, she's sleeping in the bedroom." He spoke softly. However, Jericho didn't seem to want to acknowledge Stephen's requests, as his eyes suddenly lit up and a grin went across his face.

         "You lucky bastard," He said, trying to keep himself from laughing harder. He punched Stephen in the shoulder, causing Stephen to grab his shoulder in slight pain. Jericho was really powerful, even though his frame didn't necessarily show it, and Jericho always questioned Stephen responded with a smirk, while he shook his head, and with his hands, motioned to the both of them.

         "Come on, man, we're in our twenties. We're adults. We're supposed to be the leaders for the generation coming, and we're still talking about scoring like we've never done it before." Stephen spoke with good intent, and Jericho sensed this. He then smirked, and nodded his head in approval as he replied.

         "Well you did have a point. But one thing you said was wrong, and I say in response to that... Fuck the generation coming, they're already screwed!" He said, with a grim chuckle. Stephen then began to laugh harder than he had laughed from before, throwing caution of waking up his girlfriend to the wind,and Jericho continued as Stephen laughed.

         "I mean come on, you know Maya's brother Josh more than I do, and even I know that kid has no future. The kid goes to parties with his fellow fifteen year old buddies to watch porno, for Chrissake." Jericho almost sounded disgusted by this, not bothering to acknowledge his hypocritical mistake. Stephen didn't seem to either. He just smiled and muttered, looking at Jericho accusingly.

         "Hmph, kinda sounds like us when we were young teens, ah?" Stephen spoke with another sly grin, and Jericho then confessed, while he began to spark evil grin on his face.

         "Of course," Jericho started, and shrugged, not knowing the problem with what he was saying. "Haven't all of us young adolescents watched it one time or another in our lives?" They both laughed together once more, until Stephen had noticed the black, rectangular item out of the corner of his eye.

         A tape, laying next to Jericho's half-full beer bottle.

         He then pointed it out, while Jericho grabbed his beer bottle and took another swig from it.

         "So what's that, one of those old porno tapes we watched?" Stephen asked curiously. "Or did you get that one from Josh?" Jericho shook his head slowly, as he grabbed the tape with his free hand, and tossed it into Stephen's lap. Stephen looked it over while Jericho spoke upon swallowing the alcohol in his mouth.

         "No way I'd have gotten that from Josh. Horror ain't his cup of tea, unless you slap a few big breasted chicks in it." Jericho laughed at the idea of what he said, before he finished his sentence, trying not to laugh. "Maybe then he'd have mistaken it for some fetish tape." This caused both of them to laugh out loud. Jericho, however, calmed him and Stephen down so he could become serious.

         "Nah, we both outgrew that and moved onto our horror phase, so I figured what better way to christen us true Gods of horror knowledge." Stephen's eyes showed a slight intriguing interest in the contents of the tape. He continued looking it over, and it was then that he had just realized how light the tape was.

         "Jesus. What movie is it? Fuck... How long is it?" Stephen looked at the tape suspiciously, as Jericho's eyes narrowed and his tone became serious.

         "Well..." He couldn't seem to be able to explain it. As if at a loss of words. He could only manage to finish a sentence, shrugging as he spoke. "It's not really a movie.."

         Stephen looked at Jericho, confused, uncertain of what his words meant. "Huh? Well if it's not a movie, what the hell is it?" He asked, face contorted from question. Jericho then sighed, as if he didn't really want to say anything, but he did, solemnly.

         "Okay, long story short. Well, the place I got it, this guy, I forget his name, it was some Japanese kid, and he told me how he said that five years ago to this day, this tape had surfaced in this town named Izu, I don't remember."

         "Err... What?"

         Stephen chose not to say anything. Although he questioned Jericho's knowledge of Japanese towns, he didn't want to get into the situation and make more of it than what was being told. So he let Jericho continue, while he kept his mouth shut.

         "And it had some freaky shit on it, too, that would follow up with a phone call, telling the viewer that they would die in exactly one week upon viewing the tape." Jericho finished, and did so almost expecting Stephen to be freaked out. Instead, Stephen couldn't help but laugh. He found the tale hilarious.

         "Hmph, you don't really believe in that shit, do you?"

         Jericho then looked back at Stephen, looked him in the eye and sighed. Stephen knew what the answer was going to be. But instead of getting it in a plain yes or no, he got it in the form of personal experience.

         "So I take the video home, right, and I put it in the VCR. Mind you I had to hook the fucker up cos who or

whatever made this tape couldn't at least be courteous enough to put it on DVD. So I put the tape in, and I'm sittin' there thinkin' that this is gonna be the stupidest tape I've seen in my life. And needless to say, it freaked me out."

         Stephen smirked, not believing what he was hearing, aside from the fact that Jericho had wasted his time to hook up the VCR to watch the tape. He was about to voice his opinion on it, and he opened his mouth to speak, when Jericho had continued speaking, and Stephen closed his mouth without speaking a word.

         "I mean, some of the shit is simply out of place, but like... Well, there's just some of it... that when you think about it there's just no way-- and I mean no way-- that some of the shots of that tape could have been taken by a cameraman. No way at all."

         Stephen's intrigue for the video slowly began to rise again. He wondered what exact tricks the camera had been using, but his chain of thought was cut short when Jericho continued on with his story.

         "And needless to say... I got a phone call." Stephen's view on the matter takes an even greater change. The look on his face shows that he is now more intrigued than before about the tape, and Stephen mumbles, in a serious tone like Jericho, hanging on every word, wondering what happened next.

         "So, who was on the other line? What did the person say?" Stephen was dying for a definite, concrete answer. A name would've been perfect. However, all he got was Jericho shaking his head, and shrugging his shoulders.

         "Nothing. Just some weird-ass noise. I hung the fucker up not long after that." He replied. Stephen, although the story sounded creepy, couldn't help but laugh at a certain fact.

         "Only Jericho would hang up on some pissed-off spirit dying to kill someone. Only that fucker."

         Stephen then lowered his head, wondering upon taking another stab at piecing together the story.

         Is this vintage Jerry fucking with me again, or is he being serious? He looked back up at Jericho, and questioned him again.

         "How long ago was this?" He asked. Jericho sighed, and for a moment Stephen was ready to say 'one week ago' for him. The look on Jericho's face was almost enough assurance that it had been one week. However, Jericho responded first, and gave a response that relieved Stephen, to an extent.

         "Three days," Was his response. Stephen sighed, and took a deep breath.

         "So you got four days left, ah?" He asked. Jericho shrugged and looked back at Stephen, with a stone-like gaze.

         "Yep, one week..." He then broke his stare, and looked down at his feet. Then he looked up and took a final swig of beer, finishing it off, and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. He then sighed, looking at the empty bottle, and then both men looked at each other, and then at the tape in Stephen's hands. They then looked back at each other, and Jericho donned a smirk.

         "Hmph, what the hell am I sayin'? It's just a damn tape. Heh." He smiled, scratching the back of his head, and his smile turned into a grin, but instead of looking more nonchalant, he looked to be even more adamant to the fact that the tale could be true.

         Then there was a silent moment. Neither man knew what to say, as Stephen smiled at Jericho's words and looked once more at the tape, looking for some kind of label, but there was none. Just a regular tape. Then, while Stephen looked over the tape, Jericho questioned him, while he still scratched his head through his black hair.

         "So, ah... You gonna watch it?" He asked Stephen, who looked down at the tape, wondering if it was a smart idea. Stephen shrugged, stood up, walked over to the entertainment system, and put the tape into the VCR deck. He braced himself, placed his index finger on the tape, preparing himself to push the tape in. He stood there for a moment, thinking. Jericho laughed nervously as Stephen stood frozen at the VCR.

         "Well...? Come on. Do it! Do it!" Jericho slowly ushered Stephen on. Stephen prepared to put the tape fully into the VCR, until he heard something from the hallway, which had caught his attention. Then, a few moments later, the sound of running water was heard by Stephen's ears. Both men looked over at the open doorway leading to the hallway. Jericho looked back at Stephen, and Stephen noticed this, before he then looked back at the VCR. He turned and walked back over to the couch.

         "I'll watch it later maybe," Stephen decided. Jericho didn't laugh, or call him a bitch, nothing Stephen would have expected him to do. Instead, he nodded in approval, and stood up to his watch, not excited at the numbers the hands had pointed to. He spoke to Stephen, without bothering to look up at him.

         "Hmph, well then. Call me when you ahh, do get to watching it, and tell me if you think it's bullshit or what," he said, and then looked up at Stephen for a brief moment. He then quickly retreated to the kitchen and put the beer bottle in the recycling bin next to the fridge. Stephen followed him, wondering why Jericho was leaving so abruptly.

         "Why don't you stay for a little bit? I hardly see you anymore cos of your damn job, ya know," Stephen insisted as he followed Jericho into the kitchen. Jericho, however, didn't turn around to face Stephen. He simply responded while heading for the door.

         "Heh, you know me, gotta fix those cars and get that cash. How about you fuck up your Thunderbird and bring it in, we'll spend some quality time then," Stephen laughed, but stopped, upon hearing nothing. Nothing but silence. Jericho just kept walking for the door, and Stephen followed.

         "Nah, I think I did enough novels for that beauty to watch it get totalled, much less let you put your hands on it," he said with a smile. Jericho opened the front door, stepped out, and turned around to face Stephen.

         "Have fun with that tape," Jericho said, a joking remark yet his tone was serious. So serious that Stephen just smirked, shaking his head and obviously thinking nothing of it. He closed the door and locked it, putting all three locks to use. He then turned around and walked back into the living room, where someone was sitting in the couch watching TV, to Stephen's surprise.

CHAPTER 2: maya

         Stephen got momentarily worried when he saw the woman who sat in the couch, staring at the TV, until he noticed that the tape he had gotten from Jericho was still protruding from the tape deck. This sight caused him to sigh in relief, and he walked into the room, and noticed his girlfriend. Seeing her fully clothed was a goth's dream; she had fishnet sleeves, black belly top, nose piercing, and black leather pants and boots. Stephen smiled at her presence, as she watched Whose Line Is It Anyway. He sat down next to her, getting her attention.

         "I see you're awake," he said with a smirk as he planted a kiss on her lips. Upon breaking apart, she frowned, and playfully punched his shoulder.

         "No I'm not. It's your imagination, I'm really sleepwalking," she responded sarcastically. She poked her pierced tongue out at him, biting the tip of it lightly and causing him to smile. She pushed him back slightly.

         "Behave!" She exclaimed, and they both laughed, and then shared a kiss once again, lips meeting with each other, until they broke apart, and smiled at each other.

         "So who was over?" Maya asked. Stephen arched an eyebrow in response. He was taken off guard by her question. She obviously heard him and Jericho laughing earlier.

         "Hmm?" Was all Stephen could follow up with, and Maya sighed while she narrowed her eyes at Stephen.

         "I thought I heard the door when I got out of the shower, just wonderin' if anyone came by," she reiterated, and Stephen nodded in reaction.

         "Yeah, Jerry was over." Maya began to laugh. Stephen looked over at her, confused as to what was so funny.

         "Hehe, I should have figured that. I mean, the only people you really have time to hang out with are me and him." Stephen shrugged, while a sly grin crossed his face. He knew it was true, he didn't have to deny it.

         "I'm an author, I'm not supposed have time for anything but work. Hell, even when hanging out with you two, it's a bit hard. I mean, there's you, and with you I got your hotness distracting me from my pen and paper, which isn't necessarily the worst thing in the world." Maya smiled softly at this comment, and Stephen finished, while Maya folded her arms, and listened closely.

         "And Jericho, well... I don't really need his stupidity. It fucks up my writing rhythm." He finished with a grin, and Maya covered her mouth before she laughed. Stephen smirked at this, eyeing Maya.

         "What's so funny? It's true," he said. Maya controlled her laughter just enough to deilver a reply.

         "He reminds me of Josh," she giggled.

         "Who? Jerry?" Stephen asked, almost confused. "Josh is a giant asshole. Not even Jericho could compare to him." Stephen watched helplessly, hoping for Maya to have been talking about someone else, but Maya just nodded her head.

         "Well, they both have the attention span of a loaf of bread," she started, listing both of the men's attributes. "Both of them are perverted, and well, they are both just really inane people." Maya grinned, liking naming all of their bad qualities, but Stephen shrugged.

         "Ehh, I knew all those things about him already," he said, almost as if uninterested. Maya shrugged.

         "Well, you know me, I'm good at stating the obvious," she replied, and Stephen flashed a grin of his own.

         "You're good at a lot of things," he retorted. Maya laughed, and shook her head. She felt herself turn red, and then her priority was to get back on the subject from before.

         "Well, those two guys, no matter how weirded out they may be, I still love them. You can't help it, ya know? I mean, they're both like those kooky little brothers you've never had," she said, and Stephen shrugged, confused once again.

         "Yeah, except Josh -is- your brother," he grinned. Maya put a finger to her lips, suddenly looking worried.

         "Shh, I don't want other people to find that out." She grinned evily, and Stephen shook his head before he kissed her on the lips once more.

         "You're too much," he said, and Maya grinned, shrugged her shoulders again.

         "Ehh I know." They both grinned at each other. Stephen then looked up, into Maya's penetrating, hazel eyes which looked widely back at him. They sat in silence for a moment, just staring into eachother's eyes.

         "You two are really close, huh? You and Jericho," Maya asked, although she already knew what the answer was gonna be. Stephen quickly nodded his head in response to that question. It was safe to say that they were indeed close. Maya sighed upon realizing the stupidity of her question, and prepared herself for a possibly long conversation.

         "We've known each other for years," he started, shaking his head as each memory of their friendship returned, one event after another. "Been through the worst," he continued, but paused to laugh before he could finish his sentence.

         "Heh, remember when we went to Ozzfest last year?" he asked.

         Maya thought for a moment, and a light flashed in her eyes. A grin crossed her face and she started laughing, remembering what he was talking about. She exclaimed in excitement.

         "Yeah, and he got backdropped in the moshpit by that forty somethin' year old!" This caused both of them to burst out into laughter. Stephen attempted to speak through it all, inbetween almost busting a rib in laughter.

         "Yeah, and during the riot, his hand got caught on fire!" They both then began to laugh again, even harder than before, and both of them leaned towards each other for support to keep eac hother sitting up. Then, once they were able to catch their breath again, they both sat up once more. Stephen continued speaking.

         "Yep. That man's like an older brother," he said with a relieving sigh. Maya seconded Stephen's opinion with a nod.

         "Yeah. He is a cool person," she added. Stephen then sighed once more, recalling another event.

         "I remember back when I first moved here," he began. "My fosters had bought me a leather jacket, and I wore it to my first day of school here," he continued, grabbing at his shirt as if he were wearing that very jacket with him at that moment. Maya nodded once more, knowing what he was talking about.

         "Sixth grade, right?" She asked. Stephen admired Maya's sense of knowledge on the subject for a moment, before he smiled, nodding his head in approval as well.

         "That's right," he said, even noting the name of the school. "PS/MS ninetyfive if I recall," he said with a smile. They both stared at each other once more until Stephen snapped out of it, and went back to what he was talking about before his attention could be taken away.

         "So anyway," he continued on, "These three kids came up to me in between classes, and they jumped me. Tried to take my jacket, and then Jerry came. Beat the hell out of one of'em, scared'em away." He smirked, looking up into the air, as if he were reliving the same event at that moment. Maya didn't notice however, and simply smiled.

         "Yeah, I remember that story," she replied, "And the story about the fosters." She was always interested in what had happened to Stephen's real parents, but whenever he mentioned it he would never tell her the whole story. He'd only tell her 'I don't want to go into it', or 'I can't tell you now I'm busy'. But this time, he didn't say anything about her mentioning of the subject. He just silently replied.

         "Yeah," he said. Stephen sighed, seemingly reluctant to continue, yet he managed to. "I mean they were good people and all. But I loved my parents too much to just... I just felt like I'd be 'betraying' my parents if I would ever call them 'mom' or 'dad'. It's just like, I have more respect for them than that."

         Stephen could recall his past. He could remember sitting in the back of a dark green Toyota Camry, listening to his headphones over the light eighties songs being played on the radio by his parents. He began to fight back tears as he began telling Maya his story.

         "You know, I never understood to this day how they could listen to such music, but it seemed to always relax them. Whenever they heard something along the lines of a boy band song, they would look at each other and smile. It was like they were at peace."

         "Why do you two listen to that dumb music, mom?"

         He can hear his mom's laughter in his head, somewhat soothing him.

         "This song means a lot to your father and me. It was the song that played at our wedding."

         Maya could easily see that Stephen was having a tough time continuing. She rested a hand over his as he struggled to continue. He saw the George Washington Bridge etched in his mind, remembering the car driving onto it.

         "I never liked bridges when I was a kid," he continued slowly, "I always feared that the car would crash over the edge." And then he remembered the car, a red Mustang trying to cut in front of them. He saw it cut ahead successfully, watched it whiz through his head as it speeds on its course. He could feel his father lose control of the car, causing it to spin out. His body jerked back, his mind thinking that the vision he was having was all clearly real, as he felt the car spin out once, twice.

         "The bastard didn't even stop, he didn't even stop to see what happened. H- he just kept going." Stephen was barely able to keep himself from stuttering while he continued. "And I remember... the car crashed through the side barrier." His body jerked again as he felt the car spin a third time, and he felt a SLAM.

         "And I had flew forward, and the seat belt yanked me backwards." He felt his body jerk back once more at the sound of him saying this, his body snapping back at the same time as if remembering the impact. He began to feel woozy. He couldn't see anything anymore, except himself in the car, and looking in front of him out of the windshield showed nothing but the water. He saw his mother and father in their seats, not moving.

         "And I... I unfastened my seat belt, and looked over at their faces. And they..." He felt himself having an even tougher time to speak than before. He could see the face of his father, hands gripping the wheel in a vice grip as his glassy eyes stared out at the water. There was blood on his face, and on the dashboard where his head had been slammed into. He looked over at his mother, who couldn't move. Her face was contorted in a way that she looked like she had been turned to stone from fear. Stephen quickly wiped a tear from one of his eyes, trying desperately to not show any signs of misery. As he tried to continue, Maya suddenly thought that his refusing to tell her his story may have been a good idea after all.

         "And I was shaking them both, telling them to get out of the car. I was pleading with them."

         In his mind, he could hear the feeble cries of his young voice screaming for his parents to wake, and he could remember the car teetering.

         "Please mom, dad, you can't be dead! Get out of the car, please!"

         "But they didn't move," Stephen continued. He was forced to pause, and he wiped another tear from his eyes.

"They didn't move..." He repeated. Maya felt ready to cry as well as Stephen saw himself opening the door to the Camry and climbing out, headphones and CD player in tow. He looked at the car's exterior, the back of it still on the road and partially blocking the right lane, while the front of the car dangled in a precarious position over the edge.

         "And then the..." He couldn't even attempt to finish. He simply trailed off. He could see small bits of debris break loose from the sides of the car, and then, after a brief moment, the car was gone.

         "They were taken from me," Stephen said, shaking his head in sorrow. "Gone in a New York minute," he finished. He felt himself run over to the edge, his young mind curious to see if they could have somehow escaped the car before it fell, when he felt himself being tugged from all sides. People were pulling at him, keeping him from getting too close to the edge.

         Stephen lowered his head in shame. Maya didn't want him to say any more, and simply leaned forward and embraced him. They spent a minute just like that, supporting each other. Then they broke apart, and Maya spoke softly.

         "I'm sorry, Stephen. I'm..." She didn't know how to comfort someone who had been through such a tough time. She never knew what it was like. Never knew what to say to someone who did to make them feel better.

         "So sorry," she repeated. She then kissed him gently on the lips, and upon breaking the contact, she looked at her watch upon noticing the darkness surrounding them. Maya sighed and gritted her teeth in anger at what her watch had down as the time.

         "Oh no. Dammit... I have to drive Josh. He's gonna throw a fit if I don't get back there," she said. Stephen

heard what she said and almost felt like jumping up in disbelief, but he didn't. His mind was still out of his apartment. Still on the George Washington Bridge. Maya stood up, and walked to the door, but Stephen didn't follow. He stayed in his seat, looking ahead at the emptiness in front of him. Maya turned around after not hearing him walk to the door with her.

         "I'm sorry, hon," she said with a sigh, obviously feeling bad about leaving. "I'll be back soon, I just gotta drive Josh to one of his stupid parties. Dammit, why does he have to go there this fucking late?" She checked her watch again, making sure she had the right time, and then looked back up at Stephen. She sighed, walked over to him, and bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

         "Cheer up," she said. "I'll be back in a little while, and you can feel better with me." She smirked evily, but Stephen paid no attention, as he continued to stare in front of him, out into space. Maya sighed once more, and left the living room, and could soon be heard opening, then closing the front door. Stephen stayed still for a few minutes longer before he sighed, another tear welling up. He held it off and lied back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. He thought of calling Jericho but quickly dismissed the idea, thinking he was probably out anyway. He then looked over at the TV, and out of the corner of his eye noticed the tape still in the tape deck.

CHAPTER 3: Curiousity

         Sorrow was all that separated Stephen from the tape that was in the tape deck. He didn't want to bother with the tape at such a time, when he had just poured his heart out to his girlfriend only for her to leave promptly after. He laid back, stretching his body along the couch, which allowed his feet to kick up on the opposite arm of the couch. He took a quick glance at his wrist, reading his watch intently. He sighed at the results.

         "Nine thirty. Shit."

          He sat back, thinking, letting the darkness from the night enter through the windows, allowing it to begin

overtaking the rest of the apartment. The only light in the apartment was the light in the hallway, which illuminated the hall as great a job as only one light could do. However, with the light behind Stephen, he didn't seem to care. He simply closed his eyes, in hopes that the night would drift him off to sleep until Maya walked back in the door.

         His eyes opened again not long after. His mouth opened in a yawn and he glanced at his watch, but the darkness was too much for him to get a good sight of where the hands were. He sat up, getting ready to stand up to walk over to the lamp, when something startled him. Out of the blue, a bright light flashed on the TV. The screen showed a man doing standup comedy, and then came the large sound of clapping and laughing from the TV, at a blaring volume. Stephen felt his body jolt up out of the couch he was sitting in. He stood up, hands on his hips in disbelief for a moment before he painfully clutched his side. Then he turned and looked down, and sunk his hand under the couch where the remote had been driven into from Stephen laying on it. He sighed in relief, being able to dismiss the thought of someone else in the house, but something else worried him.

         He turned his attention to the tape that had been in the tape deck of the VCR. The tape glistened in the brightness that Stephen's TV monitor had given off. It looked so harmless, so normal. Stephen couldn't imagine what was wrong with it, aside from it being unmarked and being so light, presumably of very limited footage. Yet, Stephen could feel an enigmatic sort of presence surrounding it, shrouding it in mystery.

         "Just my imagination running away with me. Jesus, I need to get out more."

         Stephen rubbed away at his eyes, his eyes which weren't able to take the heaviness of their respective eyelids. He then looked around, scratching his head. It wasn't until then that he had truly realized how dark out it had gotten. He slowly walked across the livingroom, and over to the small desk that held numerous items; Cordless phone, memo pad and black gel pen, but the one he was looking for was the lamp that towered above the other items. He flicked the switch at the base of the lamp, and in turn, a bright light flickered on, which hurt Stephen's eyes.

         "Gahhh, fuck!" was Stephen's immediate reaction, as he covered his eyes with his right hand, and with his left, he made a lousy attempt at flicking the light switch while blinded. Instead, all he could manage was hitting the lampshade, knocking it upwards, only causing more light to try and filter into Stephen's eyes. He then slowly took his hand away from his eyes, thinking he'd be able to tolerate the light, and partially because he wanted to see what he had hit. Big mistake. He shot his hand out through the light, searching for the switch, until he felt his hand brush it, and he flicked it, and his eyes finally got their relief.

         "Yeah, I really gotta get out more."

         He emitted a long, drawn out sigh, before he adjusted the lamp shade, and turned the light back on. That time, however, his eyes were able to handle it. Once he did that, he rubbed at his eyes a bit, sadness creeping up on him. He still felt bad after reliving his past in front of his girlfriend. He looked around for something, anything that would get his mind off of it.

         Then, his attention turned back over to the tape in the tape deck. He watched it intently, as if he was waiting for the tape to get up and walk away. He wondered about putting the tape in and pressing play and getting it over with before Maya returned.

         "But on the other hand..."

         He had recalled the story Jericho had told him. He thought about it, and weighed his options carefully.

         "Knowing him he probably is fucking around about that curse."

         He knew Jericho better than that to simply believe everything the man had told him. Stephen figured that the tape did have some messed up footage on it. With the tape being as light as it was, Stephen knew it had to be. Stephen formed a small smirk as he thought more about it. Being from Jericho, Stephen couldn't picture a tape any farther from being ripped clips of footage from every scary horror movie they had both heard of mashed into one.

         He looked over and out the living room window, but saw nothing in the courtyard that was out of the usual. However, he could hear the sounds of a car pulling up on the street outside of the rusted gate on the eastern side of the courtyard.

         "She's back," he said to himself. He then turned away from the window, and laid his eyes back on the tape, which was still resting harmlessly in the tape deck.

         "Now or never, Stephen. Now or never."

         He walked into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. He looked around inside it, and frowned at the results. No more beer. He closed the door, and looked around for something to eat or drink, when he noticed a pack of smokes on the counter.

         "Maya's gotta leave her shit in her car."

         Stephen hadn't smoked ever since the accident. He always used it as a way to keep from being sad about it. He called it his medication. And when he quit, he knew how hard it was, and now he finds himself settling for chocolate. He opened up one of the cabinets above the counter, revealing his chocolate stash. He reached a hand inside the cabinet and looked around, steering clear from the sweets, only saving the chocolate for a case of real depression, and by the looks of the amount of chocolate in the cabinet, he had been dealing with a lot of it.

         He settled for a bag of tortilla chips in the back of the cabinet, and then walked around to the front and checked out the window again. His suspicions were correct; Maya was walking into the courtyard through the gate. Stephen then turned around. He put the chips down on the coffee table and headed over to the tape deck, where hehesitated briefly before he gave himself one final push, nudging the tape into the VCR with his index finger. Stephen quickly turned off the lamp, headed over to the couch, and sat down. He then grabbed his remote control, also formatted for the VCR, and with a swift movement he pressed 'play'and waited for whatever was on the tape to show up.

         It didn't take long, however, before the images had begun. Stephen braced himself, as static was the first thing on the tape. He waited patiently for the tape to begin showing something actually scary, until after a few moments of static, he thought that something might have been wrong with the tape. That was, until, he noticed that the static wasn't regular static, but the static was prerecorded. He noticed this because the tracking of the tape had shown its poor quality. But the tracking quickly fixed right after, and the static continued, unbothered.

         A smug look crossed Stephen's face. He grabbed his remote firmly once more and readied to press fast forward, when the static cleared up and Stephen saw a shot of what looked like the moon. That is, until the camera slowly zoomed out, to show thin, ribbon like strips of cloud filtering through the darkness of the night. What he saw wasn't the moon, but it was in the shape of a moon. And in the shadows was a face, staring down below and seemingly into the camera that had made the tape.

         The scene then switched to a young looking Japanese woman, combing her hair in front of an oval shaped mirror. It was accompanied by the strange noise of a loud, irritating scratching, almost like nails on a chalkboard. Stephen looked at this piece of footage oddly. He seemed to note something of it, but he kept his mouth shut, and kept watching. Then, for a brief moment, the angle of the camera, and the position of the mirror changed, before it went back to its original position. However, for that small instant, Stephen seemed to point out something else about it. A person, shrouded in darkness, wearing all white, stood to the side, and upon the camera changing back to its normal position, the woman combing her hair looked over to the position where the person in white was standing, and smiled.

         The scene then changed once more, this time, to a set of kanji charcters used in the Japanese language; characters Stephen had no clue had even existed. The characters flowed, jerked about, almost as if alive, moving around like cells dividing. Needless to say, it was something different to Stephen. And for this reason, it frayed his nerves. He knew there had to be a meaning to the characters, and the fact that he didn't know them scared him.

         Now, instead of waves of kanji characters, there were waves of people, walking, crawling up a hill, some of them even moving backwards in quick, spastic motions. A weird, disturbing moan accompanied them. The scene now switched to a figure, standing along a shore, the person's face shrouded by a white cover that blew lightly in the sound of the whistling wind. The person pointed, as if accusingly, to something off screen.

         Next, a seemingly inhuman eye occupied the screen. The camera had a close up of it, and another kanji character could be seen reflected in the eye. Again, Stephen had no clue what it meant. The eye blinked, yet the character stayed. Another blink, and the character was still there, shining in its reflection.

         And then, a shot of an uncovered well. The loud scratching began again, except this time it's much louder than before. The shot continued for a few long moments, and during these moments, Stephen could hear someone at the door.

         "Maya..."

         His eyes were drawn over to the hallway, and then, he looked back, alarmingly, getting ready to take the tape out of the VCR. There was no more shot of a well-- the tape had changed to static again, loud white noise along with it. Stephen looked back at the TV screen, as if drawn to it by something supernatural. The tape was not what he was used to seeing, and for this alone, it scared him. That, and because of the fact that it looked too real to comprehend. Stephen stopped the tape and ejected it from the VCR. He let the tape stay in the tape deck, however, and returned to the sofa to await Maya. Stephen could hear her cursing to herself about having locked all the three locks, and her fumbling out her rattling keys. He could then hear her crying out, asking him to open the door, but he didn't stand up. He was too occupied with something else. Waiting for a breathless moment in the couch, he sat on the edge of his seat, having a second thought about whether a call was coming or not.

         And then the phone rang. Its ring ate at Stephen's mind nervously. He knew what he was in for. It was almost sickening that the tape would actually be true. He looked back over to the door, and then turned around, and quickly headed over to the phone and picked it up. He then lifted the phone to his ear, listening. Nothing could be heard on the other end of the phone. Nothing, except the loud screeching noise from the tape.

         And then, drowning it out, came a soft voice.

         "...You've seen it," The voice began, and Stephen shivered, suddenly frightened. "Haven't you?" the voice

finished. Stephen felt his hand lose its grip on the phone and it fell, clattering on the ground. The loud bang from it falling caused Stephen to shake his head quickly, snapping himself out of the daze he was in. He then picked the phone back up and lifted it to his face again. He spoke quickly, almost stuttering.

         "Who is this? Jericho? Is that you? Jericho! Don't fu--"

         He was cut off. Whoever was on the phone had abruptly hung up.

         Stephen looked over at the hallway, where he heard the sound of the front door opening had come from. He then quickly headed over to the TV and grabbed the tape, pulling it out of the tape deck. He put it with the other tapes on the shelf next to it. He then headed over to the hallway, and to the front door, where he was met with the door being opened instead. A person, dressed in all white, took up the doorway.

         Stephen jumped back quickly, frightened by the sight. But then, he realized who he was looking at.

         "Ahh sorry," Maya began, "I thought a change of wardrobe would have helped." She shrugged and smiled weakly at him. Stephen didn't say anything in response. He simply breathed heavily, still getting over the shock he had dealt with.

         "Are you okay?" she asked, and Stephen slowly nodded. She took him lightly by the arm and led him down the hallway. He gently fought off from her grip.

         "Ah, I'll be there in a minute, okay? Just wait for me, please," he said, with a seemingly forced smile. She smiled back and, resting a hand on his face, gently kissed him on the lips and walked down the hallway.

         "Okay, I'll be waiting," she responded with a smirk before turning towards the hallway. She then disappeared into Stephen's room. Stephen smirked before heading into the living room. He walked in front of the TV and stood for a moment, staring at the lifeless black screen. Then, through the reflection the blackness of the monitor gave off, he could see another all white figure. He drew in a breath, ready to yell out to Maya, until he snapped around, and looked.

         Nothing.

         END OF PART ONE