Two hours later.

"One. Two. One. Two. Check."

"Can hear you loud and clear George," Roy said. The two techs were now testing out Danielle's doorbell. She would have in essence her own PA system. If she picked up the small handset and depressed the "talk" button, her voice would come out of a small speaker on the outside of her cell door.

"Jesus they must trust her," George remarked. "This is hardly ever done. Maybe she's entertaining herself noisily at night if you know what I mean?" He winked.

Roy glared at him. "Will you shut up? It's not our business to speculate. We just do as we're asked."

Despite his words, Roy strongly suspected Danielle was being abused or something to that extent. A loan woman on this ward full of dangerous male Psychopaths? He felt sorry for her. Totally blind to boot.

"Hello, guys?" Loomis's voice came out of Roy's drop, water and damage proof radio designed for when working. This was good in his job, except for the fact it was damn heavy. He never wore it on the designated pouch on his vest for just that reason.

He pulled it out and spoke. "Go ahead boss?"

"I forgot to say. Can you leave the walls as they are? They already have soft material on as you can see and they're used by patients for stress, to hit them and so on."

"Yep no problem boss, we haven't touch them. Just testing out the doorbell system now."

"Brilliant, thank you." The radio clicked off.

"Pass me the shank," George gestured at the saw. "This piece isn't measured right."

Roy sighed. George was an ok guy to work with, but he'd never hang around with him on a personal level. He was crude and sexist. No wonder he never seemed to have a girlfriend.

As George began sawing at the foam, the machine's noise cutting out any possibility of conversation, which suited Roy just fine, the younger tech brushed his sweat soaked hair behind his ears. That had been Michael Myers. Michael God damn Myers who'd helped them carry that foam in. Good fucking god! How and why were they not dead right now? Roy knew about the notorious masked killer, as much as everyone else near and far did. Yet, he'd just helped them out? Ok, so he'd carried some sheets of foam for them, hardly a huge thing, but still. What the hell? Despite not being allowed to ask, Roy Larson would give anything to do just that.

"Can you go out and listen?" George broke him out of his thoughts. "I'll try and talk to you."

The two men had removed the barred door and replaced it with a sheet of solid metal. This was only done for maximum proofing. It had a sheet of metal in its centre which could be lowered right to the floor at the push of a button, relieving the claustrophobia and compression on the ears. When closed, it was like entering a hearing test booth. The foam now covered the floor completely.

"She'll think she's got her own private bouncy castle," George had remarked. "Have the time of her life on too much medication," he'd grinned. Not to mention she'll probably be asked to call people down to reception." He put on the tone of a PA announcer. "Dr Loomis, can you go to the main reception building please? I mean, the damn thing even chimes when you press the "talk" button!"

Roy crossed in to the corridor and closed the door. He listened and only vaguely heard George's voice. "Hey you ugly fucker. You hearing this?"

He opened the door and walked back in. "I heard you," he said without a flicker of a smile and saw the, "oh shit" look which crossed his colleague's face. George Atkins appeared to have no professional boundaries'. "That bit of floor by the door isn't done completely," Roy gestured. "There. That's how I heard you."

"We're out of foam," George said. "Fuck. I don't want to lift that stuff myself again. I'll do my damn back in."

"It's our job," Roy said through gritted teeth. "Come on."

As the two men walked out of the block, Roy saw Michael Myers was back in his cell. He'd probably heard the PA test and the deafening saw several times. As George went on ahead, Roy approached the killer's bars. Within a second, a guard whose badge said Jack was at his side.

"Excuse me," Roy kept his voice very low. "You're Michael Myers, aren't you?"

The killer met his gaze and Roy felt himself shiver. Myers's gaze was cold, blank, no emotion at all. "Thanks for your help back there Mr. Myers."

Nothing. Roy gave the killer a small nod and hurried after his colleague, Jack following behind him to let them back in to the block with the foam. At least Roy now knew for certain he'd been right. Bloody hell. Michael fucking Myers… If he hadn't seen it for himself, he'd never have believed it.

The two men finished off the door, then tested the doorbell. At the push of a button Danielle would hear a musical tinkle, indicating someone was outside her cell. She could then pick up her phone to speak to them. There was another handset on the outside which the other person would speak through if the conversation was private, and they didn't want Danielle's voice out of the speaker. Or they could just use it as a standard intercom system.

This time for the final test, Roy stayed in the cell and he did the talking. George hadn't heard anything.

"You know that's a security risk if they don't close the hatch or the window?" George said and they quickly tested it with them open. Closed, they could hear nothing. Even open sound was reduced by the foam. Roy felt his contempt soften a little. It was George who'd brought that fact up, not him. Maybe he wasn't as bad as Roy had first thought.

Next, the two men pulled out glue guns and began sticking the foam down permanently to the floor. Once in its position, it couldn't be moved. The glue was so strong the bottle had bright red signs all over it.

HOT OR COLD, THIS LIQUID IS LETHAL. DO NOT HANDLE WITHOUT GLOVES OR SAFETY GLASSES!

So much so that two pairs of disposable gloves and safety glasses were provided with each bottle. It would burn your skin off if it made contact with flesh and clothes would also be burnt right through. It was safe to touch only when dry and set.

Roy noticed the bottle even had Braille on it, something he'd never noticed before. He wondered what it said. Hopefully the same as the print. Too bad he couldn't ask Danielle to read it for him. The two men pulled on their safety gloves, glasses, masks and overalls and set to work.

Finally, they were all done. The foam needed to be left for another hour to completely set to the cell floor. Jack let them out and they met Loomis again in his office, informing him they were done.

"Thank you gentlemen," Loomis said. "You will be paid by tomorrow morning. Grate day's work, thank you very much."

Samuel Loomis waited until the techs had left before he let Chancer out of solitary. The killer looked furious but it was clear he didn't dare say anything. That was just fine with Loomis. He and three guards escorted Chancer back up to his cell. He and Stark had considered sound proofing Chancer's cell, but Stark had squashed that idea.

"It'll be like a red flag," she'd said. "We know it's you so be very careful. How would we ever prove it then?" Loomis had conceded the undoubtedly valid and correct point.

But now, there was no way in hell Derek Chancer would be able to hear anything Danielle said. He couldn't see her cell from his either, so would have no idea it had been modified for just this purpose. He'd think his precious iPod was broken. That was just fine with them. The longer he remained clueless the better.

The techs had warned Danielle's cell would smell very strongly of the glue for a while. Loomis smiled and told them he'd pass the message on. Dr Stark would brief her in any case, he explained. Showing her all the buttons and so on.

Now Dr Loomis sat in his office, still unable to get his head around what'd happened earlier between him and Michael. This was far from the disturbed young boy he'd known. The one who he strongly suspected, though of course could not prove, had almost drowned a girl named Sophie in the apple bobbing vat at the age of seven when she beat him at musical chairs. Or the nurse who'd fallen down the stairs, fracturing her pelvis. What the hell had Danielle Hayward managed to do to him which no one else had? Was it her vulnerability? Powerlessness? The fact she seemed to be depending on him if only unconsciously? As Halloween night drew in, Samuel Loomis knew what he had to do.

Adam couldn't deny he was worried and a little uneasy about the text he'd received earlier that day, re Danielle's reports. It said their man inside was almost caught and as a result was now on edge, nervous. Refusing to speak, only text. Adam was also angry. He'd thought their "man inside" was cleverer than that. Seemingly he'd been wrong. Derek Chancer had obviously made some kind of mistake which could cost Adam knowing where his bitch was, and that was simply not ok with Adam Dawson.

"That's not good enough," he snapped at the unknown person on his phone when he made the call. "I want answers. I'm paying you a fucking shit load for them."

"Don't worry Sir," the unknown voice, this time a child's, said in his ear. "He's not stopping his work, he just wanted you to know what'd happened."

"What?" Adam laughed incredulously. "That he made a fuck up? Sonny I don't care what fuck up he made, as long as I get the reports on my property! I don't want to hear how "on edge, nervous" he is. I don't care! I just want to know what my property is saying and doing. She belongs to me. You get me?"

"Yes Sir, completely. But the boss has said to tell you that following this… Unfortunate incident, you won't have to pay us anymore money until our man has something to tell you."

"I should think not," Adam growled. "It also better be something good!" He slammed down the phone.

What the fuck had Derek Chancer done? Adam had to commend and credit him for managing to get the iPod back. That must've taken good lying skills. In spite of what he'd said on the phone, he couldn't deny he was curious. If someone as cunning and sneaky as Chancer could get caught, what had he done?

Adam had just kicked out tonight's whore when his phone rang hours later. He answered it, not recognising the number. "Yes?" He snapped. He was tired and just wanted sleep.

"Sir," said a man's voice. "We have a message from our man. He says and I quote, I don't think I can keep doing this. It's getting way too dangerous. He's on to me and he's the one man who scares me shitless. My life's worth more to me than what this guy's paying."

Adam felt his fists clench. "Excuse me? What the fuck are you on about? He's not stopping now; I'm paying good money for this! I wouldn't care if it was Michael fucking Myers on his case! He'll continue and that's the end of it!" He slammed down his phone.

But as he lay down to sleep, he felt himself shiver. He couldn't lie, if Michael Myers had been on his case for anything, Adam Dawson would be running in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Michael Myers was the one man who terrified him.

But of course it wasn't Michael Myers. That's why he'd used the name. The idea was so insane, preposterous even that it didn't even need thinking about. That was as crazy as the people in that loony bin! Michael Myers would kill Danielle as soon as look at her. He'd kill anyone as soon as look at them. Michael Myers care about Danielle Hayward? Adam laughed out loud. That's hilarious!

Samuel Loomis approached Michael's cell slowly and carefully. This time when Ash and Richard, two of the night guards approached him, he didn't try to stop them, just smiled at them in gratitude.

The silent killer was standing by his door, his back turned to the bars. As usual his gaze was emotionless, blank. Loomis tried not to shiver. Even after all these years, that cold, icy stare could do this to him.

"Michael?" He said gently and quietly. The killer didn't turn, but Loomis could sense his gaze on him.

Was he pushing his luck? He knew something had happened between him and the killer earlier that day however small it was, but this was Halloween night. Was he making a possibly very dangerous mistake?

The killer didn't as much as move, but nor did he look away. Loomis tried to make eye contact, but with Michael facing away from him, this was impossible.

"Are you ok?" Loomis murmured, asking the killer the question Michael had asked him just hours before. "Can I do anything for you?"

Now Michael did turn to face him and Samuel Loomis took an automatic step backwards. He just knew his patient was hearing the call of the kill. The two guards stepped forward so they were sandwiching him between them.

Once again Loomis remembered the young Michael. Even at seven, everyone staff and children alike, had been afraid of him. He commanded that ward back then. Whether it was trying to drown a girl for beating him at musical chairs, or giving a young boy a terrible rash for not returning a game to the killer.

It seemed as if nothing had changed with Michael becoming an adult. Everyone still feared him and with good reason. Would the killer try to target him? In spite of everything, Loomis didn't think so. Michael knew Loomis was trying to help him and even as a child had grudgingly acknowledged his authority. But was that still true even as a grown man?

Loomis realised he wasn't the only one thinking these thoughts when unable to stop themselves it seemed, Richard and Ash drew back slightly. Loomis stepped up to the cell door within Michael's reach.

"Sir," Ash said quietly, a warning. "Step back."

Loomis didn't move. He turned to Richard and spoke quietly but firmly in to his ear.

"I need you to trust me. This is an order. Do not argue with me. Please Richard, this is vital. Go and open Danielle Hayward's cell and bring her up here, but not close enough to touch."

"Sir," Richard said, just as Loomis knew he would. Loomis could understand it totally too.

"Please," he said quietly. "Bring as many guards with you as you wish, but this is really important."

Richard looked at him for what seemed like minutes, then very slowly nodded. He walked away towards Danielle's cell. Ash looked at Loomis bewildered, then in anger.

"Sir, what the fuck are you…"

"Need I remind you who's in charge here?" Loomis's voice was ice. He then softened it. "Please, Ash. I know what I'm doing. He'll get nowhere near her." Unless I say so, he didn't add.

Michael hadn't moved an inch, his unflinching, blank gaze still on his doctor, seeming to be waiting to see what his next move would be. He knows, Loomis thought. He's playing with me, like a cat with a mouse.

Danielle sat in her new cell, well at least she considered it a new cell, not sure how she felt. Apart from feeling like she was sitting in a hearing test booth. Stark had assured her she could have the screen open whenever she liked to ease the compression to her ears and Danielle was grateful for this. Three hours earlier when Stark had taken her out of her cell, she'd said "it's my turn to entertain you for a while Danielle," before explaining what was happening.

Danielle couldn't deny she was relieved. This way there was no way Chancer would be able to hear a word she said. Or anyone else for that matter. She and Stark had talked over coffee and her doctor had told her a little about herself. Favourite food, films and so on.

But it wasn't just Chancer she was thinking about re not hearing her. Her emotions were all over the place and for the last couple of days, she'd felt certain she was about to cry. Now, she could do it in total privacy.

Everything was building up. The fact Adam was still not leaving her alone even now, had gone so far as to have someone watching and reporting on her was bad enough. Then… Then there was Michael. Fuck. That was one complicated mess right there. She could no longer deny, to herself at least, how she felt about the masked serial killer. God knew she'd tried for long enough. She'd resolved to tell Stark this as soon as they spoke the next day. She'd had long enough to think about it. She loved him.

Dr Stark had shown her what all the buttons did and had joked Danielle would be asked to make announcements for people if they needed the guards. Danielle felt self-conscious about her voice coming out of the small speaker outside her door and resolved to use it only if and when she had to. She didn't like the fact it chimed like a public address system when she pressed the "talk" button either. Everyone knew she was going to speak then. It made her feel like she was being above everyone else, like she was important enough to have this feature. In truth she hated it.

Stark had pressed the doorbell so she'd heard it and showed her how to open the screen in the door. She'd also relocked the Perspex compartment by Danielle's pillow as it was now useless.

Danielle took a deep breath, trying to fight down her emotions. Halloween night or not, she was missing Michael. But what if he was hearing those voices again? The ones which told him to kill. She felt herself shiver.

As if on cue, her doorbell rang and Richard's voice came through the handset when she picked it up. "Hello?"

"It's Richard, Danielle. Dr Loomis wants you."

Danielle stood up as Richard opened the solid metal door. She felt her ears pop and could only hope she got used to it.

As Richard led her down the corridor and she heard two other guards join him, Danielle felt her heart turn to ice. No. They weren't, were they?

However she might… Did feel about Michael Myers, she couldn't be with him tonight. Had Loomis gone mad? Or had she got it completely wrong? Was she being taken somewhere else?

But all too soon, she was confirmed correct when she heard Loomis's voice. "Michael, look to your left."

Danielle Hayward had never been able to see anything, not since birth. But she'd heard her sighted friends describing being under a stare so intense or cold they could almost feel it burning them, or turning them to frozen stone. On that Halloween night, she truly learnt for the first time what they meant. Because she didn't have to see it to know that right now, she wasn't under the stare of a caring man who'd let her touch his ears, but the cold, intense stare of a silent, cold blooded killer. She didn't even hear herself scream.