Introductory Interview
A Halloween fan fic
Written by Gabe Ricard
Disclaimer: I own nothing you'd give a rats ass about so don't bother suing.
With Halloween just around the corner and a new Halloween flick on the horizon, I thought I'd give this idea a try. As usual, it's far from being a GOOD idea as much as it's just an idea…so take it with a grain of a salt and try to enjoy. This stories somewhat of a tribute to the late, great Donald Pleasance.
Once in a while, perhaps because he was only human, Dr. Sam Loomis would stop whatever he would be doing at that moment, lean back in his seat and stare out the window thinking of the success he was finally beginning to have. It took a few years…more then most psychiatrists would put up with but he was at last, getting the recognition he had hoped to get. By personal success he was referring to the favorable opinions he had been getting from his peers in journals only lonely psychiatrists like himself read. Not that this was the sole driving force in his career. He had actually started out with a somewhat self-righteous look on the whole 'success' thing. When he was younger, he would tell the few people that he actually talked to on a regular basis, that he didn't care if he never got any recognition as long as he helped people. Now, he was still interested in helping people though he was a bit more realistic about it and as he was now getting into his mid 40's he had decided that a little bit of both never hurt anyone. One thing he always had was his cozy office located in one of the nicer buildings in the area and not to far from a major institution were many of clients came out of. He walked into his office and after asking Carol for a cup of coffee, sat down at his desk and prepared for his first appointment.
A few minutes later just as he was beginning to wonder if this first appointment would ever show up. His secretary buzzed him on the intercom he had had installed recently, "Yes Carol?"
"Dr. Loomis…you're due at the institution in a half hour. Shouldn't you get going?" Of course! How could he let that slip his mind? This was his opportunity to examine the Myers boy. Naturally, Dr. Loomis had heard all about this on the news and amongst a much smaller circle, had heard the institution was searching for a doctor who would see the boy on a regular basis. To his surprise, no one had taken the job. As far as he was concerned, it seemed like a rather easy job, he had some experience in the past with disturbed children, and as far as he was concerned, this boy would be no different. He yawned, wishing he could have slept in a bit more but shrugged the feeling off and walked out the door, getting into his car which he was thinking of selling and driving off. He would be a couple minutes late but didn't believe that would be a problem.
Twenty-seven minutes later…
Loomis was impressed with how modern this building looked. He wondered why he had not visited this place before. He walked to the front desk and with quiet patience, finally the secretary said something about, "Telling Jamie not to worry about the dead dog." And hanging up to give Loomis a kind, "What the hell do you want?" smile. Instead she said, "May I help you?"
"Yes, I have an appointment to see," Loomis paused to open up a piece of paper and check the name, "Craven…Dr. Edgar Craven."
"Oh…you must be the latest doctor. Fifth floor, go down the hall and go through the third door on your right."
"Thank you." Loomis ignored the annoyed glance of the secretary and walked to the nearby elevator, stepping inside and heading for the floor. He got there and walked into the office being greeted by another secretary. He wondered if there were any actual patients here. Thankfully, this secretary was actually pleasant and he was let in to see Dr. Craven the moment he explained his reason for being there. The man inside was quite possibly, the oldest looking human being Loomis had ever seen. He ignored this and shook the gentlemen's hand and sat down across from him. The office was clustered looking and in good need of a cleaning lady. The exact opposite of Loomis's office.
Dr. Craven went straight to his point, "Shall I show you to Myers room?"
"Um…right now?"
"Well, we have a few other doctors in line that are due to stop by and we've decided it's quicker if I just let you talk to him. A few things to remember. First, he has not said a word since he was brought in and we don't imagine he will. Second, do not bring anything sharp with you into the room and finally, we will have two guards accompany to into the-"
"Thank you but I would prefer it if they wait outside."
"Doctor Loomis I-"
"I insist."
Dr. Craven appeared as if he were about to give a great sigh but nodded also giving the impression that he was a step and a half away from dying. "All right…it should be okay I suppose…we handcuff him to the chair anyway." Dr. Loomis and Dr. Craven rose and walked down the hallway. Loomis did not once peer into any of the cells despite hearing screams from several of them. They came to what looked like an interrogation room and walked in. Two guards stood next to chair and in that chair sat a young boy that Loomis would have never imagined to see in a place like this. He didn't look miserable like other children he had dealt with and he didn't have scars all over his arms or face. He didn't look like anything really. Loomis took off his coat and put it on the chair across from the boy.
"Okay guys," Dr. Craven clasped his hands together, "Let's leave these two alone. You can stand outside."
"Doctor?"
"Now." The two guards did not argue with their employer any further and walked out with the doctor.
Dr. Loomis stared at the boy for a long time and had to shake himself to get on with things. He knew the boys name but asked for it anyway. He got nothing in reply. That was okay. Dr. Loomis had never gone a session with anyone without making them say something before they left his care. He had a few minutes and he intended to use it well. "That's okay, I happen to know your name is Michael. So tell me Michael, how old are you?" Still nothing. "I see…you don't want to say anything. That's all right. I understand…you know I had to see someone when I was young and I didn't like them either." The boy didn't even smile. He just stared straight ahead with an expression that Loomis did not for the moment, dare to look into. "Have they been treating you well here?" Loomis did not fee frustrated when Michael would still not give him an answer, he knew this boy was a murderer but also thought he was still a child. A child he could help. He stood up and began to walk around. He wondered to himself what had driven this boy to kill his own sister. He had heard of and even seen cases like this before, but there was always some kind of circumstance. A cruel father, an uncaring mother, drugs, alcohol, an angry ex lover, something but with this child, there were none of those things. Loomis sat down at the table and leaned forward. "Michael…I want to help you. I can save you from whatever it is that made you do this horrible, horrible thing I-" Loomis stopped as he looked into Michael's eyes for a moment, this was to drive his point home but as he did something else happened. He did not see the eyes of a boy or even the eyes of someone gone mad. What he did see in those eyes, was darkness…pure darkness, the kind you see when you step into a dark closet. Except this closet was darker then any other one in the world. His pale face held these eyes as if they were barely being held in place. The blackest eyes. For a moment, Dr. Loomis suddenly felt more afraid then he ever had in his entire life. It suddenly occurred to him that this was not a person. This was damnation with two legs and two arms. "This interview is over," he whispered rising to his feet and nearly falling. He walked quickly over to the door and knocked on it as loud as he could and as frantic as he could. Dr. Craven and the two guards ran in.
"What happened in here?" he demanded. "What did he say?"
"He-he didn't say anything," Loomis closed his eyes for a moment then looked towards Dr. Craven. "I'll take him on."
"That won't be necessary Doctor Loomis."
"Why not?"
"Because Michael is being transferred to Grove Smith. He won't need a doctor to come see him."
Loomis thought for a moment, that was over eighty miles from his office. "I don't care…I'll see him anyway."
"Well…I guess it would be better if he went in with a doctor. If you're-" Dr. Craven was cut off as he heard one of the guards screaming. The two ran back into the room and saw one of the guards lying on the ground. The left side of his face cut apart and a pool of blood forming on the ground. The other guard held Michael on the ground.
"What the hell happened in here?"
"The crazy little shit jumped Cid when we took him off the chair. He had a switchblade with him! A fucking switchblade! Where the hell did he get it?!"
Loomis was shoved to the side as several more people came in and even with the chaos going on, Dr. Loomis got one final look at Michael who stared back at him. His expression never changing. Loomis knew, at that moment that he would spend the rest of his life making sure this thing stayed locked up for the rest of it's life. He knew he would try and save the boy, but he also had a feeling that it was little more then habit that would lead him to do this.
End.
Not bad? No? bah…I love this movie and have wanted to do a story about it for awhile. Certainly better then my Elm St. fic. Well, keep an eye open for a few other crappy projects I have. Including a little Tenchi Muyo! epic I'm co-authoring with Washu-Chan. So thanks for reading and be sure to let me know how badly this was written.