Forlot - Books 10-12

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Scarlett and I lifted up our heads, and the first thing, or in this case, person that we saw was Nicole.

"My goodness!" Scarlett exclaimed with fright. "Is she...?"

I went over to the body and placed two fingers on Nicole's neck, feeling for her pulse.

"Nah. She is dead," I confirmed. "And what a waste of time for our fellow readers because I already told them that she would not make it."

"Or did she?" Margaret said.

I glared at her. "What?"

"Have you not noticed, Margie, that Forlot is not your average town? That when a person dies here, he or she always comes back? You know why that is? 'Cause we are fictional characters. Living in the fictional world."

I was going to order her to stop with her rambling. But then she said a certain word.

"Thanks to the Lubriem, we fictional characters are no longer dumb. We are aware that we are fictional characters and real. At least, we Forlot characters know that. Other fictional characters are not so lucky to have a maker like our writer."

"Hold up, hold up, hold up," I said, holding up my hands as my sister and I stood back up. "You know about the Lubriem?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"I am only familiar with the name."

"That is a real shame. But do not fret, Margie. You will meet the Lubriem very soon."

"What? She is here?"

"Yes. And very much alive." She sat up and hissed. "Could someone put a cloth over my wound?"

"Say the word 'please,' and I will get one for you," Scarlett said.

"Ugh. Fine. Please."

As Scarlett was searching for a cloth, I realized that the door was open a crack.

"Sis? When you closed the door, did you happen to leave it open a crack?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Then...if you did not open the door...who did?"

As I said that, something - or someone - was hovering on the other side of the door. Red. Yellow.

Oh, no.

The door opened wide, and a girl stepped into the room.

"You!" I said. "Ava."

Ava had returned and was as cruel as ever. She was holding a gun, but had it pointing down.

"What do you want now, Ava? Steal another baby and give it to a psycho woman?"

She did not respond and just kept staring at us with the blank expression on her face.

Scarlett found a cloth and carefully put it on Margaret's shoulder. Margaret held the cloth in place and rose.

"I have been looking forward to this for a long time," Margaret said. "It is just you and me, Ava."

"What about me?"

Ava did not say that. Somebody else did.

Another girl walked into the room - gee, we had better be getting out of this room, writer - and I recognized who she was.

"It is you. Mary Sue."