Day 14: I Collect Seventh Days

She Just Wanted to Be Heard
Day 14: I Collect Seventh Days
Part of Story Arc 1: Counterclockwise
A "The Ring/Ringu" Fanfic
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)

Chapters: 14 of 100
Rating: Overall Rating Sup13+ (some elements might be too intense or scary for those under 13; includes bad language)
Dates: Begun September 2006. Some material is based on previously written stories from 2003-2005.
Word Count: 3,288
Summary: Everyone has dreams of Quinn's funeral that are very enlightening. The dream leads Vanessa to suspect that Vicki is plotting against her with Dean Winchester, but is she seeing a vision of the present or future?
Warning: Contains spoilers for the entire Ringu and The Ring series.
Fanfic Challenges: Fits [info]50_darkfics Prompt #14 Coffin/Buried and [info]Coclaim100 Prompt #14 Heart.
Author's Notes: Not beta'ed. If anyone wants to look over the remaining chapters, even if it's just this one, I'd really appreciate it.
Cross-over with the tv show "Supernatural." Set pre-series.
The Boston Central High School in this story bears no association with any real Boston Central High that may be in existence. At the time of this writing, to the best of my knowledge, there seems to be no school with this exact name. The school I reference in this story is fictional.

        No one slept in Quinn and Jodie's household until the sun came up.

        Quinn ran his fingers over several short marks that had been scratched into the footboard of his bed. "My parents are going to freak when they see these..."

        Svetlana mumbled, "That is what you worry about?"

        Overcome by exhaustion, they all fell into an uneasy sleep. And dreamed of the same thing.

        Quinn's funeral.

        Svetlana quickly realized that no one could see her. She even waved her hand in front of some of the crying faces, but there was no reaction. Many people sat in the hall, its walls lined on either side with large arrangements of flowers. Some had sashes hung across them with phrases like Our Condolences and With Sympathy. Svet walked up the middle aisle toward the open coffin in the front of the hall. At first, she walked quickly, wanting to know who was in the casket. But once she caught sight of a tuft of curly blond hair, Svetlana slowed down, approaching with fear.

        All crying, all wearing black. Most of them, Quinn's family.

        The subject of this funeral was Quinn.

        "No," Svet nearly whispered. She reached the side of the coffin and looked down into it. Quinn lay motionless, his hands folded together across his chest. Something about his face seemed wrong. For one thing, he had been pasted with far too much makeup, like the funeral directors were trying to hide an unnatural pallor. Svetlana reached out to touch his face, but pulled her hand back abruptly. Tears ran from her eyes.

        "This can't be real." She whirled on the attendees. "This is just dream! Why you not hear me?! I'm right here! Quinn isn't - " Spotting a familiar face, Svetlana felt her knees go weak. She collapsed to the floor in front of Dean Winchester. He sat in the audience with an older, bearded man whom she didn't recognize. Both were wearing dark suits. Obviously, he couldn't see her either. "It's you! You came... but..." Svetlana looked at the coffin, and back at Dean. "If this is Quinn's funeral..." With a horrified gasp, she covered her mouth with her hands. "...does that mean you fail?"

        Dean did not answer.

        "No! You... you can't fail. You have to get here in time! We've only got four days left."

        The sound of dripping water stole Svetlana's attention. She looked back at Quinn's coffin to see Samara standing before it, water dripping off her long hair and dirty white dress. "Svetlana. I think you would have made a great mommy," the child said.

        Svet shuddered all over. It said her name. "You know things, right? You shoot Samara in the face and she blow apart," she said to Dean. "Please tell me who you are."

        He did not respond, only continued to look at the coffin with an unsatisfied, troubled expression.

        Samara began to walk slowly toward them.

        Seeing that, Svetlana became afraid and frantic. "Please, please, hear me!" She tried to touch Dean's arm. While he was very solid, she was not, and her hand passed right through him. Her eyes widened in shock.

        Samara came closer.

        Getting to her feet, Svetlana cried, "Please get here in time! Don't let us die!" and ran down the aisle toward the doors. They were locked, but she still yanked at the metal handles, making the doors shake noisily as she groaned in frustration.

        As in her previous dream, someone was sitting on a bench to the left side of the doors. Svetlana addressed them directly. "Why are you here? It doesn't make any sense for you to come all this way for Quinn's funeral. I would never ask that." She sank to her knees before the crying person. "Why would you cry for Quinn?"

        A young woman stood near this person, but she didn't seem to be with them. She was snickering with her hand to her mouth. "You don't even know," the girl said.

        "What?" Svetlana recognized her from her picture on the message board. Vanessa, from Astoria.

        "Let me tell ya..." The dark-haired girl made an "okay" sign with her hand and gestured at Svet with it. "Your seventh day rocked. Everyone on my message board thought so."

        "I know who you are. You're Vanessa!" Svetlana said. "You know how we beat the curse. Please tell me! I can't take this anymore. I'm a wimp, okay? I don't like being scared. I admit it on your board if you just tell me how I make it stop!"

        Vanessa snickered again. "I can't believe someone you know is sitting right in front of you, crying their heart out, and you still don't know."

        One of the double doors behind Svet slowly opened up. Samara stood on the other side. Waiting for her.

        Leaning down to whisper in Svetlana's ear, Vanessa said, "You're dead too."


        Jodie was wearing funeral black. She stood just inside the open double doors with a bouquet of flowers in her hands, waiting to walk down the middle aisle of the hall. The bouquet was made of videotape. Snaky black film formed bunches of dark flowers like some ominous craft project. Jodie looked to her right and saw two kids, one of them Samara, sitting and making these flowers. Samara's appearance was completely normal.

        "This is how you looked when you were alive," Jodie commented, examining the round face and shiny long hair. "You even had a little friend."

        The other child looked up from her crafts and smiled.

        Glancing around, Jodie asked the hall, "Who's going to give me away?"

        The funeral attendees turned to look at her, and all stood and began to applaud. Well, it didn't matter, then. Jodie began to walk down the aisle while she hummed the wedding march to herself. To her right, standing on the aisle was the extremely handsome blond from everyone's dreams whose name started with D. She didn't currently know his name was Dean Winchester, and that the man standing next to him was his father, John. But she would soon know. Dean smiled proudly as Jodie passed him, clapping along with the others. "You're going to be just fine," he assured her.

        To her left, Gunnar stood on the aisle. She had never seen him in a suit before; he looked amazing, with his shoulder-length hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. An attractive girl with dark brown hair stood next to him. She wore a black dress, lovely but somber. Gunnar pointed to her and mouthed, "Lisa."

        Ah, so this was the waitress.

        Jodie gazed down the aisle at the coffin. Quinn stood next to it, fingers gripping the sides of the open window in the top, his back to her. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew it was Quinn. The coffin appeared to be empty.

        One of her mother's friends, a guy most often referred to by his last name, Hollister, approached her and offered Jodie his arm. "Sorry I'm late."

        She looked at the raised arm, gazed up at his face, and shook her head, passing him up. He voluntarily withdrew. When Jodie had almost reached Quinn, she silently tossed the bouquet over her shoulder, like a bride would do after a wedding. Lisa caught it, then looked at it with wide-eyed apprehension.

        To get his attention, Jodie placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder. He turned around. God, she loved it when he smiled like that, so sunny and charming, and all for her. "Hey Jodes."

        "Hi Quinny." Her heart soared with love for him. Sometimes, Jodie thought she was over him, could finally let him go and watch him kiss other women without feeling that tightening ache in her heart. Then there were times like this, when he looked at her like that. She suddenly began to cry, throwing her arms around his neck. "Don't go, don't go, don't go..." Jodie sobbed.

        "Hey... I'm not going anywhere."

        "You promise?"

        "Of course. But when did I ever keep a promise?" he laughed. "I also promised never to hurt you."

        Jodie didn't want to think about those things. She wanted to kiss him, so she did, long and passionate. Quinn held her to him and kissed her like he'd never broken her heart. The crowd renewed their clapping; it grew louder, and some even cheered. Jodie never wanted to break that kiss because she knew what would happen once she did. But everything had to come to an end. "Quinn, please, stay with me. Even if you have to be with Svetlana or some other girl, just don't leave."

        "It's not my decision until I fulfill my end of the curse." He gently pulled her arms from around his neck. "And who would ever think it was that simple?" Quinn laughed again.

        "Please, Quinn - "

        He put a finger to her lips to shush her. "Jodie... I'm sorry. I really do love you. There's a piece of my heart that will always be reserved for you. But I have to go." Quinn started to climb into the coffin, but stopped to add, "I broke up with you because I just never thought I was good enough for you."

        Jodie grabbed his arm. "No, don't! You're perfect for me! Don't go!"

        He shook his head. "I would just hold you back." Climbing into the coffin, Quinn shut the lid.

        Jodie tried to pry it open. It would not budge. She sobbed uncontrollably. "Please, come back! I don't want to do this without you! DON'T GO!"

        Vanessa, standing at the head of the coffin, laughed at Jodie's frantic efforts. "You'll never get him out of there."

        Jodie recognized Vanessa too. "Why won't you help us? You know what's going to happen, don't you?"

        With a mischievous grin, Vanessa nodded. "None of you understand how important she is. She's more important than any of your friends' sorry lives."

        "What?" Jodie was stunned. "How can you say that?"

        The look on Vanessa's face was pure malice. "Because it's true. You have no clue just how much Samara can do. How much any of them can do." A giddy laugh escaped her. "They're so cool."

        Jodie slowly realized she was looking into the eyes of someone with no conscience. "You feed people to her."

        Vanessa grinned again and replied, "I collect seventh days."


        Darcy hadn't asked for any of this. It wasn't something she ever thought she'd be involved in when she read about it in the book. Her friendship with Svetlana had pulled her in, and she wouldn't turn away from her Christian duty.

        Darcy understood what Jodie had told her. Quinn had gotten a hold of some videotape that caused nightmares of anyone who watched it. It also appeared that the maker of the tape, a little girl who had been dead for more than 25 years, would begin stalking those people from the grave.

        Sounded like demon stuff to her.

        Darcy read a book on demonic possession once. The priest had suggested they study evil from the outside so they'd know it when they saw it. Scratching in the walls (that wasn't caused by animals) was a sign that someone in the house was demonically possessed. And Darcy knew it wasn't her.

        She wondered if watching the tape was a form of invitation to the demon, this demon who seemed to be named "Samara." Sort of like playing with a Ouija board, but in tape form.

        When Darcy saw the funeral scene, she crossed herself. The sound of someone crying to her right drew her attention. Svetlana sat on the floor at someone's feet, begging them to forgive her. But the person didn't seem to be able to hear her. A brunette Darcy didn't know stood nearby, snickering at the things Svet was saying.

        "Please forgive me. I think all this is punishment for how I treat you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't let me die!" Svetlana sobbed.

        Darcy went to her side and took hold of her shoulders, shaking her. "Svetlana, listen to me. You've got to come with me to my church. The priests will know how to help you. They'll know how to protect you from her."

        With renewed boisterousness, Vanessa threw her head back and laughed, eyes dancing merrily with mocking contempt. "Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! Are you actually suggesting that a bunch of priests can stop Samara and the others? When this cycle has been in motion for hundreds of years?"

        "Big deal!" Darcy yelled angrily. "This cycle has been in motion for thousands of years."

        Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. If religion could stop Samara, don't you think someone would've done it by now?"

        Trying to ignore her, Darcy pulled Svetlana to her feet. "Come with me, Svet. I know they can help you."

        Svetlana allowed herself to be almost dragged down the aisle; her feet shuffled across the floor with little motivation. "What's the point? I'm dead already. She going to kill me, Darce."

        "Don't say that! I'm going to help you."

        They both looked down the aisle toward the coffin and stopped to watch what was happening. Their dreams were beginning to bleed into each other.


        Vanessa had migrated from the back of the hall to the front again. She and Quinn were currently grappling with the lid of the coffin; she was trying to shove his head into the opening and close it on him. In his dream, he was not yet in the casket, but standing before it.

        "Why won't you help us beat this curse? What's wrong with you?!" Quinn cried. He didn't want to outright strike Vanessa because she was a girl. But she wouldn't stop grabbing him by the back of the neck or the hair and trying to shove his head into the coffin.

        "Just shut up and get in there, pretty boy! I'm getting a seventh day out of you if I have to let you all die." Vanessa tried to shut the coffin lid on his head.

        Having had enough, Quinn shoved up on the lid and pushed her back at the same time, screaming, "Get the fuck off me, bitch!"

        Vanessa stumbled, almost fell, but ultimately regained her footing.

        Jodie, Svet, and Darcy ran up to Quinn at the same time. "I understand what you're after now, Vanessa," Quinn said, the three girls backing him up. "We don't need your help. We'll figure it out for ourselves."

        Vanessa had a comeback all ready for them, but nearby snickering stole her attention; she knew someone was laughing at her. She looked into the crowd of funeral attendees and saw Vicki there, next to some blond guy in a dark suit. Gasping, Vanessa realized that he was the man the Dutch girl kept drawing, the guy with the shotgun. For a fleeting moment, she thought how impressive Svetlana's talent was - the drawings looked just like him.

        Vicki and the guy were whispering to each other and plainly snickering at Vanessa. Plotting against her. She knew they were plotting against her.

        "What are you planning behind my back, you fat fuck?" Vanessa snarled through gritted teeth.

        Vicki gave her the kind of dismissive look that Vanessa thought she had perfected, scoffed, and said quietly to Dean, "You see how paranoid she is?"

        He chuckled. "Maybe she has reason to be, hm?"

        Vicki laughed derisively.

        Vanessa was still glaring daggers at them when women in the crowd suddenly began to scream. They pointed to the stained glass windows lining the wall behind the coffin. Something huge slithered by, something that looked like a thick, giant snake.

        "Now you'll all be sorry!" Vanessa warned. "He's here. Their father is here!"

        The deep, booming roar of some kind of monstrous animal rattled the windows. This was followed by the sound of massive crashing waves coming toward the hall.

        Lisa began to scream hysterically.

        Everyone joined her as the stained glass windows shattered inward and the crushing force of the ocean rushed in to engulf them all.

        All four awakened with a scream of sudden terror. Svetlana didn't stop screaming as she thought of what Vanessa had whispered in her ear, and Jodie simply began to cry.

        Over 3,000 miles away, Vanessa awoke from her afternoon nap with a loud gasp, the sound of ocean surf and Vicki's laughter crashing in her ears.


        A student at Boston Central High walked into what looked like a horror show when she casually strode into the last stall of the bathroom next to the west side stairs. The first thing she saw was blood smeared all over the floor on one side of the toilet. The girl recoiled from the sight.

        "Oh God, did someone get their period in here?!"

        Another girl smoking by the window gave a disinterested shrug. "I dunno. I heard some chick was, like, losing it in there earlier. Crying and talking to herself all hysterical. She probably did it." The smoking girl gestured toward the stall with a nod. "Look again. She wrote all kinds of weird shit on the walls."

        "Seriously?" Out of morbid curiosity, the student pushed open the door and gingerly stepped inside, avoiding the blood, so she could see what the smoking girl was talking about.

        Indeed, someone had written all over one of the walls with a red paint pen. She had unintentionally left more blood in smears here and there while confessing and pleading on the wall through anonymous graffiti.

please help me
help me
help me


i can't escape



I don't want to HURT anyone

I don't know how to make them stop

He only has 4 days left

it won't stop

The Ringu series is (c) 1998 The Ring/The Spiral Production Group. It is based on the novels by Koji Suzuki.
The motion picture The Ring is (c) 2002 DreamWorks Pictures. The title "She Just Wanted to Be Heard" comes from a line of dialogue spoken by Rachel Keller in this movie. The motion picture The Ring Two is (c) 2005 DreamWorks Pictures.
I do not know if the prequel, The Ring 3, will have any bearing on this story or not until I see it.
Supernatural is (c) 2005 Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland, & Warner Brothers/The CW Television.
Everything else is (c) Demented Stuff.

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there really is a tape