Strangers: Timeshare/Quicksand (Part 3)

Co-writer pals on gifted timeshare-retreat cross with a masked 'Stranger' woman with psycho-eye of things home-invasion for species-shock (fanfic-trilogy).

Strangers fanfiction for your Spring-Sunday (thanks for reading), 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fanfiction offers no ties to the referenced franchise/film-series of inspiration and all images/references used herein comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' views/translations).

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Amlan and Marcus had the full mindset to lure the Stranger-woman in mask who'd been lurking outside their timeshare property/windows holding a knife in her bloody-hand and then flee out the fire-scape to get to some authorities stop after she'd successfully cut the area phone-line/signals, leaving them now unable to call for help. The Stranger in mask was apparently some reader of the two buddies' cyber-stories of horror-arts and stalked them to the New England timeshare Marcus posted online about pre-trek (damn). Well, Amlan/Marcus knew they were one-step away (now!) from miraculous-escape...or inevitable bloody-murder (Selfie-like).

AMLAN: Look she's coming nearer and nearer (now), man.

MARCUS: This was our plan for carry-out; and as soon as she gets close, we fly!

AMLAN: You holding that lighter/fluid and fire extinguisher tight, man?
MARCUS: Right in my hero-escapism backpack at the timeshare, buddy (damn).

AMLAN: What the Hell does she want (with us)...besides our guess (stalker)?

MARCUS: I told you my hunch, Amlan; she's one of our readers and 'fan' (doubt).

AMLAN: Well, when we get free of here for good, maybe we write about it.

MARCUS: Yeah, "Stranger: Timeshare Qualia" (Random Publishing).

AMLAN: Selfie-like (for Heaven/Hell).

Amlan and Marcus just stood by their window as the Stranger woman in mask neared their room/abode with her bloody-knife; and when she seemed close-enough, Marcus shot lighter-fluid on her, intending to follow-up with the extinguisher after disorienting her completely (in-time to snatch her weapon). However, his terrible contraption failed to function; and the Stranger got closer...to Hell.

STRANGER: Now you're the ones reacting to my prompts here, writers.

AMLAN/MARCUS: This is insane and evil...you've tied us up, lady.

STRANGER: This is a new Earth and my new trend/craft for gossip, writers.

AMLAN/MARCUS: What do you want with (American) writers (like us), lady?
STRANGER: Can't you guess, writers?
AMLAN/MARCUS: This is about some thing of stalking, isn't it, Stranger?

STRANGER: Maybe...yes...perhaps.

AMLAN/MARCUS: What do you want (really)...and why're you masked?

STRANGER: Because...you're writing about your Hell.

POLICEMAN: The writers were buried (here).

POLICEMAN: American tragedy (all's onside).

THE END

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)