Cookie: Ok readers! This is getting exciting! So now you know for sure that Stan's one of the stalkers. Whats gonna happen to Fay and Angela!? D: Read on....

Thanks for the comments and votes awesome readers! Keep it up! :)

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I blinked, trying to understand. "Stan?"

His dark gaze landed on my face and he smiled. An eerie smile. A smile of an insane man. "Well hello, Fay."

"Oh my god," Angela stared at him, mouth agape. "Are you serious? The Janitor? The freaking janitor kidnapped us?"

Stans frown deepened as he kneeled down in front of us. Angela shrunk back but I continued to stare at Stan. He was my stalker? Well I guess it made sense. Why did I feel like I fell into some bad t.v show?

"What were you trying to do?" Stan asked Angela calmly.

Angela lifted up her chin defiantly at him. "Nothing."

He did something that shocked us both. Stan, the man that I thought had a gentle nature back handed her, hard enough to force her head back to the side, as far as it could go without breaking.

"Angela!" I gasped as her body slumped down with a hard thud on the cemented floor. I stared at her motionless body.

"Such a waste," I heard Stan mumble under his breath, taking Angela's face into one hand and examining it. Blood trinkled down from the side of her lip, which was beginning to swell.

I winched. I disliked her, but I would never wish her to be treated this way.

"She has such a pretty face," he continued, his tone thoughtful. "But she had such a rotten attitude towards everyone. That makes her ugly, don't you think so, Fay?"

I looked at him and found that his eyes were focused on me, twinkling with delight, like I would be pleased that he had knocked Angela out.

"You sick bastard."

Stan's eyes widdened. "But Fay, I'm doing this all for you. For us."

"I don't know what you're talking about, you psycho."

He sighed, shaking his head. Standing, he pulled the whole chair up straight, with me still tied to it. Shit, I had been all wrong about him. He was stronger than he looked.

"Now, Fay, don't be like that. You know how much I love you. Remember
all those love letters I sent you?"

"You mean those stalker notes you sent me?" I looked at him dryly. "Gee thanks. And oh yeah, thanks for the dead cat, it goes so well with my locker."

Stan blinked at me. "Dead cat? I didn't give you a dead cat."

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

"Fay, Fay, Fay," he repeated my name, like I was some naughty child who didn't understand anything. "Can't you see what you're doing? You're denying our love!"

It was my turn to blink stupidly at him. "Um, Stan, do me a favor? Check into a mental hospital and get help."

"I'm not crazy."

I looked pointed at Angela's motionless body, at myself tied to the chair then at him. "Really? You don't think what you're doing isn't the act of a psycho?"

Stan shook his head, pacing. "Why is she doing this?" He was muttering under his breath, like he was talking to someone invisible. "I thought you said that she'd come to understand."

I watched him silently. For some reason, I felt calmer than I should. I'm not sure why, but Stan didn't scare me. It was obvious that he was as crazy as they come. All I needed to do was out smart him and get away with Angela.

I looked around the room. Crap, how the hell was I suppose to get away still tied down to a chair? Stan still had the advantage. I had to think fast.

"He doesn't love you," Stan was saying to me. "That boy wont love you as much as I would. As much as I do." He stalked to me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking it. "I'm the one who loves you the most!"

I didn't reply, just continued to watch him carefully.

"I'll make you happy, Fay. I would never make you cry, never hurt you." He must have seen my sarcatic look because he said "I only did this because I needed to make you notice me. To make you realize that I care. That I'm here."

That's it. thats what I needed to do. I needed to play with his already deranged mind.

"Do you promise?" I said, making myself look affected by his confession. "Do you promise to always love me, Stan?"

Stan smiled, eyes growing softer. "Yes, of course! You are my little Fairy, my goddess, I'd do anything for you! Only you have noticed me, talked to me, liked me and saw my potential."

"Then let me hold you," I forced myself to say, trying not to grimace. God, I was such a bad actress. Stan's mind must really be off to la la land if he believe every bull I was saying. "Let me feel how much you love me, Stan."

And just like that he was untying me, face and smile eager. When he finally had me loose, he pulled me in his arms, burying his face on my neck. "God, I've always dreamed of this, being with you, holding you." He sniffed me. "You smell so good."

I rolled my eyes. It was now or never. So before he could react, I brought my knee up and rammed it into his stomach, as hard as I could. Stan fell with a grunt to the floor, cursing.

I made a dive for the chair, intending to knock him out with it but his hand shot out, grabbing my ankles. He pulled and I tripped forward, forhead slamming onto the edge of the wooden chair.

I gasped, eyes swimming with tears triggered by the shocking pain. I fell on my stomach, my hands instinctivly going to my forehead trying to sooth it.

"You bitch!" Stan screamed furiously behind me. "You tricked me! You made me think that you started to care!"

I swung myself to my back and glared up at his figure, hovering above me, shaking with anger. "Calm down, Stan..."

"You lied to me!" He took the chair, I thought he was going to throw it at me but instead he threw it at the wall behind me. I jumped a little when the chair crashed against the wall. "I love you! Why can't you love me back!"

I tried to scramble away, out of his reach but I was still dizzy with pain, so of couse, I was too slow. He grabbed my shoulder and lifted me up until my face was inches way from his. "YOU ARE JUST LIKE THE REST!!"

"Let go of me, Stan!" I struggled. Shit, I hated being like this. Weak, helpless...

"I'LL MAKE YOU LOVE ME!!" He spat, shaking me, "ONE WAY OR THE OTHER!"

I did the only thing I could think of. I kicked where it counts, his precious family jewels. Stan screamed with pain, dropping me. As he doubled over, clutching his aching balls, my body slammed into the cold floor and I groaned. I was sooo going to be black and blue after this.

"You FUCKING BITCH!"

I tried to make myself stand but my stupid legs seemed to remain frozen. So I tried to crawl away from him. I felt a sharp pain and realized that he was pulling my hair back.

I cried out as he dragged me back by my hair. I knew I looked pathetic. Kicking, struggling to get my hair loose from his tight grip. Son of a bitch!

"I'm going to teach you a lesson, Fay Valentine." Stan growled as he continued to drag me. "She was right, I should have listened to her. You're nothing but a fake, a tease. You led me on."

What the fuck was he talking about?

Stan slammed by body against the wall, finally releasing his hold on my hair. I slumped my back against the cool cement, gasping from the pain. My body felt like it had been stampeded over.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never for get."

I looked up weakly and found that he was pulling his overalls down, eyes crazed. I blinked, trying to understand what he was doing. Than realization hit me. This bastard....he was going to rape me!

There was no way in hell that I was going to just sit here stupidly and let him. I dove to the side, trying to crawl pass him. He just pulled me back again, grabbing my hair and using it to slam me back to the wall.

Oh hell no.

I shrieked and began to struggle furiously as he pinned his body against mine. I kicked, bit, scratched and cursed him to hell. Stan may look weak, but he had the strength of a grown man. I was strong, but compared to him...

"It's no use, Fay," I heard him growl between my banshee shrieking, "the more you struggle, the more I want you."

This man was nuts.

I started to panic when I realized that I wouldn't be able to fight him off. As weak and battered as I was, I wasn't strong enough to put up much of a fight. Dear god, I was really going to be raped by this psycho!

Stan's body jerked and he grunted, eyes widdening. Slowly, he turned.


Angela stood behind him, strumbling back. I realized what she had done. My pocket knife was sticking on his back, blood starting to soak his shirt.

"I'm going to kill you first," Stan growled, seeming unaffected by the knife on his back. He took a threatening step towards her. I made my move. I pressed the knife on his back and turned as hard as I could.

Stan shrieked, turning to me, eyes bloodshot. Wild.

Angela didn't give him time to get to me. She kicked his right leg and as he fell forward, I rammed my knee on his stomach with all the strength I could muster.

Stan groaned and fell face down to the floor. Angela and I stared at his motionless body, both of us breathing heavily. Was he dead? Did we at least knock him out?

Angela and I looked at one another, faces flushed.

"We need to get out of here," Angela winched. It looked like it was hard for her to talk. I didn't blame her. Her mouth was swelling and bruised.

"Right," I mumbled. I noted that her hands were still tied. She must have gotten my knife in time. I was thankful that she had used it on Stan, that she didn't let him rape me.

"Lets go," she said, turning to the exit.

"You're not going anywhere," Stan's voice made us freeze. What!? That bastard was still breathing!

We slowly turned around and Stan was kneeling on the floor, a gun pointed at us. "Both of you aren't going anywhere."

I looked at Angela and she looked at me.

We both turned and made a run for it.

The gun went off.

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Cookie: Uh oh....da da da dah! lol

So another pic of Stan------------>

Plus A YouTube link of the song "Let the bodies hit the floor" by Drowning Pool. I figured hard metal rock music would be Stan's thing.