The Pretty Little Lying Game (A PLL and TLG Fanfiction) *PAUSED*

Chapter 14

Emam clamped her hand over her mouth. Shit! Had she woken the Mercers? Trying to calm down, Emma forced her fast breathing down until her heart starting beating normally. Okay, so Ethan had been whisked away into some hidden room behind the bookcase. Didn't that crap only happen in movies? It happened right before your eyes, Emma, she thought. What do you freakin' think?! Emma tiptoed over to the bookcase, scared to touch it. Had Ethan's leaning up against it somehow opened up the passage and gotten him in the room?

I hovered by Emma's left shoulder. Do it, I thought. Lean up against that bookshelf. 

Reluctantly, Emma got closer to it. She turned around, back facing the shelf, and pressed her back to it. At first, nothing happened. Then, as she leaned her head back against it, her force opened it up and took her away. 

There was a nervous pain in her stomach. Emma tried to remain calm as she spun around.

I, by force, was dragged along with her. I tried to enjoy the ride as the faux bookcase flipped over and turned us around.

Finally, we came to a stop. Emma gasped, and I did too.

The room was huge, and completely made of steel. By that I meant, steel walls, steel floor, steel ceiling. The air was cold, the room dark. There wasn't a single window around. But that was the least shocking part.

There were pictures taped all over the walls, and desks overflowed with papers. Ethan was in a corner, reading a document.

"Ethan!" Emma cried. Her voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls and filling the air. 

He spun around and dropped the paper. It silently and slowly floated down to the ground. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair. "Oh, um, hey,"

A look of stricken disbelief crossed over Emma's face. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"J-Just l-looking at these p-papers," Ethan stuttered.

"Why didn't you call for me? Or do something other than snoop around?!"

I agreed with my twin. Why was he just poking around instead of trying to get himself out?

"I was just trying to find out what this room was for," Ethan muttered. The lack of light in the room made his face look dark and evil, like he was some sort of crazy villain who'd murdered thousands of people.

I didn't want to admit it, but he was really creeping me out.

"Oh. Okay." Emma said flatly. She took the explanation with no protest and began strolling around. I followed after, my gaze turning to the pictures on the walls. In shock, we both realized something: They were of me. 

It was me, in my room, glaring at my laptop. I immediately thought back to my most recent memory. The picture and the memory were an exact match. Which meant that someone had been spying on me: from the inside. Horror filled my mind as I imagined someone in a mask, sneaking into my room at night and placing a camera there.

Another showed me, on the porch, my hand on Alison's cheek. I shuddered. It was from another memory. This person had been here, documenting everything that had happened with Alison. Which meant that they knew what had happened—and they knew more than we did.

Emma trembled, her whole body shaking. Her eyes moved from picture to picture. She tuned everything and everyone out and stared at those photos—all featuring Sutton and Alison.

She walked closer to the wall of Polaroids and ripped one off. It was of Sutton and her friends, madeline, Charlotte, and Laurel, all glaring at Alison with their arms crossed. Alison's lips were curled up into a sneer.

"Ethan, did you see these?!" she shouted, holding up the picture with her thumb and forefinger. He rushed over and took the picture from her. "No-no, I-I walked right past them," he murmured, his gaze steady on the picture.

"This-this person's been following Sutton around and taking pictures of her!" sobbed Emma. 

"But don't you notice something?" Ethan said. "Almost all of them have this blonde girl in them, too,"

"Which means?"

"This-this person must have a connection to her," 

Emma put her head in her hand. "But who just does this? Who fills a secret room in someone's house with photos and papers?" 

A stalker, I think. A killer, maybe. A killer who murdered someone named Sutton Mercer.

Emma drops the photo, and walks over to the desk. She picks up the papers. In a typewriter font, they read things like "Was spotted outside of home with friends, talking to A". Nothing important shows up in the papers. Just notes of whereabouts, sightings and guesses. Emma feels eerie, knowing that her sister was watched by someone. Was is the killer? What would the killer want to do with Alison?

Then it hit her. It was A! A had been in Sutton's house, recording every interaction Sutton had had with Alison. It made her feel unsafe that not one, but two killers had been in the house. Suddenly she felt like running, running straight out the bookshelf door, out of the basement, out of the house, out of town.

And she did. Taking her chance, Emma ditched the desk and sprinted off, ignoring Ethan's cries of her name. She slammed her whole body weight against the bookshelf until it opened for her. I followed after, helpless, as Emma ran to the sliding glass door at the basement. As she took off her shoes and tossed them, running through the grass in the Mercer's yard. As she fell to the ground, crying hopelessly.

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Okay, there's Chapter 14! Been busy, lost my iPod, blah blah blah. I know it's short and all that, but at least you have it (that sounds kinda mean, doesn't it? Yeah, sorry). Okay, bai and see you in a million months when I update again. 

Wow, I suck, don't I?

 I do, I really do. This chapter was barely a page and I've lost all interest completely.