Shining among Darkness

By
WingzemonX

Chapter 41.
It Won't Stop

Samara knew in advance that she would have to speak to another of Matilda's friends that Saturday morning. She had mentioned it to her since even before the whole incident in her room had happened. However, what was informed somewhat suddenly was that Matilda could not be present while the talk was taking place since the psychiatrist would have to go out to take care of a quick matter with the officer who had accompanied her the other day. The idea did not please Samara in the least. She got nervous, and you could even say that she got a little upset, but not enough to show it too much.

She accepted the request to not bother Matilda, especially after the last two hard times she had put her through. The least she wanted was that the woman wanted to turn her back on her too. Perhaps she hadn't thought about it explicitly, but something of it was present in her decision.

That morning, about ten minutes before the agreed time, the nurses went to look for her in her room. Or rather, her new room, since the original one was indeed still unusable at that time. They took her to the observation room where that such talk would take place. The hospital staff seemed to have gotten over their disgust for her a bit. However, they were still talking to her and treating her with tweezers, fearful of doing anything that might bother her too much. This, in a way, gave Samara a bit of satisfaction, but the guilt was not totally absent for that.

The room was the same as the one she had previously been in with Matilda and her cop friend; there are still even some visible marks of what had happened back then. The nurses did not enter. They only left her at the door and proceeded to go as soon as possible in the moment she stepped inside. Samara supposed that she should sit in the center chair without any prompting, as she had all the previous times, and she did.

Samara then prepared to await the arrival of Matilda's mysterious guest. She couldn't even guess what she would get out of it all. Would this other friend also be someone with abilities like hers? Just like Matilda and the cop? The psychiatrist had told her that it would be constructive for her to talk to this other friend about what she could do. Could he do the same as her? She certainly doubted it; she was beginning to believe that no one was even remotely similar to her in that world. Well, no one except for maybe...

The overhead lights flickered suddenly. Instinctively, Samara lifted her face slightly in that direction, staring at the fluorescent light tinkling rhythmically as if it were some coded message. She felt for a few moments extracted in that white light, in that constant turning on and off, so much so that the passage of time simply slipped from her body like simple water...

"With water... there's water always. Sometimes it feels like I'm drowning, and I can't get out."

Samara jumped in her chair as if she had just awakened from a deep sleep; however, it actually seemed more like she had gotten into one. She turned her face fearfully forward towards the double mirror that divided that room from the adjacent one. The scenario that was reflected in it was not the same in which she was. It was a strange place, but in a way hideously familiar. The walls in the reflection were without paint and peeling, corroded by rust and mold. The room was barely lit by a faint flickering light, but it was mostly dark. And, of course, the water: the entire floor was covered with water, perhaps enough to reach her ankles.

And although that was only an image in the mirror, she could still perceive other things as if she were in that place herself. The air had grown heavy and sticky, accompanied by a foul stench that made her nose ache. All of this was like a replay of what had happened in her room, with the same look and feel. But that was not the same; this had not been caused by her.

Her attention was focused, almost unintentionally, on the center of that scene, in the right place where her own reflection should be. And indeed there she was, sitting on the chair, in the middle of the room, with her white robe, her hands on her legs, and her long black hair falling in front and completely covering her face. But she didn't have her hair all the way to the front like that, and her hands weren't gray and wrinkled and sore on the skin.

That figure in the mirror stood up abruptly, although Samara hadn't actually done it. She dragged her feet through the water, approaching the mirror slowly as if at any moment she was going to emerge from it as a character of some television program. Samara became tense in fear but was unable to move from her chair. It was her again, that other being... that monster.

She quickly squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears. Still, she could hear the sound of the water moving while the thing continued to advance, closer and closer to the mirror.

Samara began to sing in a low voice, the same song she always sang to feel more secure: "Round we go... The world is spinning... When it stops... It's just beginning ..."

The splashing of the water stopped. Even so, Samara continued to sing without opening her eyes.

"Sun comes up... We live, and we cry... Sun goes down... And then we all die..."

"Are you so afraid of me?" She heard the creature's hoarse, raspy, slow voice murmur. However, it didn't sound threatening at all. In fact, the girl found it a bit sad.

Almost by reflex, Samara slowly opened her eyes and looked in its direction. The ghostly reflection was just standing in front, still on the surface like a painting hanging on the wall. Then it raised its hand and placed it against the glass; Samara could see the pale, wrinkled skin of her hand pressing against it and even some water dripping from that contact.

"I won't hurt you," whispered the same voice as before. "I would never hurt you. Everything I've done has been to protect you."

"Protect me?" Samara exclaimed in disbelief, and even with some anger. "How can you say that? You have made me hurt everyone around me. My mother, Matilda, Dr. Scott..."

The head of the reflection moved at an abnormal speed; in a blink, it was pressed against the glass as if it wanted to go through it. Among all the long black hair that cascaded down like a waterfall, a single clouded eye peeked out, looking directly at her. Samara shuddered in fear in her chair, and whatever she was going to say got stuck in her throat.

"You know that I didn't do any of those things," the being in the mirror whispered in a cold voice. "You know the truth..."

Samara looked at her, dumbfounded.

Yes, she knew the truth, but a part of her tried to convince herself that she really wasn't. That all this had been the fault of that presence, of that being that she still could not fully understand. But it was telling her that what she feared so much inside her heart was the absolute truth.

The being tilted its head slowly to one side, having her face still pressed against the invisible barrier that prevented it from invading the space in which Samara was; all that without taking its dead eye off her.

"Come closer," the monster snapped suddenly with some severity. "I need to tell you something..."

Samara leaned even closer to the back of the chair. Although she did not respond with words, all her body language indicated that she had no intention of leaving her seat.

"It's important... I won't hurt you, quite the opposite."

She had no reason to believe in that thing, and every conscious reasoning she could concoct at the moment led her to the same conclusion.

However, she still did it...

Samara stood up and began to move slowly towards the mirror, towards the being trapped on the other side; slow, very slow. Even though the water she saw in the reflection was not on her side, she could still feel as if her feet were crawling through it, soaking her robe. She then stood right in front of that being, however, staying at least a meter away, having the innocent idea that that would be enough to keep her safe. Perhaps it was not, but still, that creature made no attempt to do more than what it had promised: speak.

"Someone will come looking for you. They'll want to get you off this site and take you with them. You must do what they tell you and get out of here without opposition and without looking back."

"Why?" The little girl asked, confused.

There was a small and uncomfortable silence before the being in the mirror answered her.

"Because if you stay here..." Once more, the creature raised its head, exposing to Samara its pale, bruised, and gutsy face, decorated with its two gray, dead eyes. "You will end up becoming me..."

Samara was a little startled when she saw that face again, but she stayed still in her place.

"What...? What do you mean with that...?"

Instinctively she took two more steps toward the mirror. The creature pressed its dry, rough lips against it and whispered slowly, very slowly. Samara was able to feel it cold, putrid breath touching her face. But, by the moment, it did not bother her more than the words coming out of it. She stayed fascinated, lost in their multiple meanings and implications.

Maybe it was only a few seconds, but it seemed like hours to Samara. She didn't want to believe what she heard at all, but at the same time, it was impossible for her to just put it aside and ignore it. Since it all made a lot of sense; if anything in all that madness could have such a thing.

The door opened suddenly, and in a blink afterward, everything was back to normal. The reflection in the mirror was just the one of the room she was in, with all its almost unbearable whiteness. And the face she saw before she was hers, full of confusion and grief. Of the water, the corrosion, the humidity, the cold, or the creature that also called herself Samara Morgan, no trace remained. Only in her memory.

Samara then turned slowly towards the door and looked curiously at who had just entered: a blond man with glasses. She immediately sensed that he must be Matilda's friend, the person who would see her that day.

Her mind kept wandering to what she had just seen and heard an instant before, but little by little, she forced herself to crawl back to the present.

The newcomer man smiled gently at her, though in her opinion he looked a bit nervous.

"Hello, Samara," he greeted her in a friendly tone, advancing a little towards her. "How are you?"

Samara just looked at him, not answering anything.

"My name is Cody. We met the other night, remember?"

Samara studied him for a few seconds in silence, trying to detect if he looked familiar or not. Her verdict was halfway between those two options.

"I think so. Matilda told me that I should talk to you. Are you a policeman too?"

"No, I'm a biology teacher. Do you study biology at school, Samara...?"

After some quick introductions and Cody showing Samara what he was capable of, the two agreed to work together for the remainder of that afternoon. In the beginning, everything was very similar to what Samara did the first days with Matilda. Cody asked her to capture images on canvas or sheets, trying to make them take just the image she wanted them to take, but always ending up looking twisted and macabre. While they were doing that, Cody told her a lot about him; about how he grew up with his skills, his horrible nightmares, about the Canker Man, and about those who in some way or another had been hurt by this.

Cody told her about how people like his foster mother or Eleven helped him figure out how to better handle all of this, focus, and improve it to wellness. Samara listened carefully to everything Cody was saying, but she wasn't particularly interested. If she commented on something, these comments were mostly limited to short and slightly absent answers.

Near the end of his session, Cody tried to see what Samara could do with a physical object. He brought with him an articulated wooden doll, usually used as a reference for drawings. He placed it in front of Samara and asked her to modify it however she wanted. Samara had an ugly memory of what had happened when she tried to do something like that with the puzzle Matilda had given her, but she still tried. She managed to make the figure move, change color, and even shape to a larger or smaller one. But in the end, before their eyes, the figure began to come as if an invisible fire consumed it. Dark spots gradually covered it like a cancer, and it twisted itself into a misshapen piece of dull old wood.

Samara looked at that horrible image with a certain apathy. She didn't even look surprised this time.

"I'm sorry," she murmured slowly.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Cody replied normally and immediately put away what was left of the figure. "You know, I'm not a psychiatrist like Matilda. However, if I have to assume based on my own experience with my abilities, I think what you just did, and the drawings and what happened to your room the other night could just be unconscious reflections of your state of mind. Are you feeling upset or scared right now?"

"I always feel like that," Samara replied in a somewhat muffled voice.

"I know how that is. When I was a kid, I used to feel like this all the time, and it was reflected in horrible nightmares that I couldn't control. I think that's what's wrong with you, Samara. All of these things are like nightmares that you are having awake. And if so, before expecting any results other than these tests, I think you should work with Matilda on those negative emotions that overwhelm you."

"How can I do that?" Samara snapped suddenly, and Cody seemed to notice a certain aggressiveness in her tone that caught him off guard. "I've hurt many, and what I have done doesn't go away when I stop thinking about it."

That last thing seemed almost a recrimination towards Cody, but this one did not take it personally. Obviously, she felt defensive; he had been the same way when they began to help him with those kinds of issues. Besides, Samara still didn't know that not everything Cody did disappear when he stopped thinking about it. Many damages lingered even afterward.

"I know," Cody replied calmly. "But the first thing you must do to be able to overcome all this, is to understand that nothing of this is your fault. I know very well that you never wanted to hurt someone, just like me..."

"That's not true," Samara snapped, cutting him off sharply.

Cody hesitated, confused.

"What did you say?"

"I said that's not true. I wanted to do all that..."

That sudden statement surprised Cody. He couldn't tell if she was being serious or understood what she was saying. Samara then turned her gaze to the side, somewhat thoughtful, and continued speaking.

"Not at the beginning. When I slept, my dreams also affected my parents. I tried not to sleep, but I couldn't. Then they sent me to sleep in the stable. They made me a little room there, and it was comfortable, I guess. But the horses made too much noise at night and wouldn't let me sleep. I just wanted them to shut up, but they weren't... And then I made them shut up myself."

Cody was silent. He remembered the incident with the horses on her farm that Matilda mentioned to him. Still, he didn't know that it had happened just under those circumstances, and he suspected that Matilda hadn't either.

"My mother got mad at me for that," Samara continued, more distress now showing in her words. "She told me I was a monster, and she wanted to hurt me. I just desired her to leave me, not to hurt me anymore... and I ended up hurting her. And Dr. Scott was mean to me, and he was talking bad things about Matilda. He made me too angry, and I just wanted to give him a push to leave me alone, but I think I hurt him too, too much. They all got hurt because of me and because I wanted to. I wished to convince myself that the Other Samara had done it, but she didn't... I did everything..."

As she spoke, her voice gradually changed from being numb and muffled to filled with anguish, and she even let out a few small sobs, and traces of tears appeared.

"Samara, wait for a second, please," Cody muttered firmly, leaning toward her. "It doesn't matter if you wanted it or not. It is normal at your age and with your lack of experience to lose control for moments. It's not your fault you hurt the horses or any of those people."

"But I do, and I'm sorry. But..." She was silent for a few moments and then slowly looked up at Cody again. Her eyes no longer looked worried or sad. "I know... it won't stop. Not until I learn why I can do what I do."

There was so much detachment in those words that Cody could hardly believe they came from a kid. In fact, everything around Samara had changed. She didn't seem to be the same girl he'd spent the last few hours with. Her face, her eyes, everything about her was different. And something deep in the back of Cody's head was screaming one thing: something wasn't right, nothing right.

The same feeling of apprehension that he had the first time he entered that hospital returned, the one that told him that he should not enter but flee from there. And that same idea was beginning to cross his mind.

"You and Matilda have good intentions, and I appreciate it. But you can't help me. So, I need to find someone who can."

"What are you talking about, Samara?"

At that moment, just before she could respond to anything, the hospital emergency alarms blared loudly from the hallway, taking the professor by surprise. Samara, however, did not seem to share that sentiment.

"I think I have to go..."

A few minutes ago, while Cody and Samara were continuing their tests, a cleaner had exited through one of the back doors of the hospital into the area where the garbage containers were located. He carried a heavy dark garbage bag with him, which with a deft movement, he managed to insert into the large green container. He'd barred the door that wouldn't lock, so he could quietly take a couple of minutes to smoke a cigarette. He leaned against the wall as he enjoyed his few minutes of rest. His turn was about to end, and he was looking forward to it. As the cigarette was consumed, so did the stress and fatigue of that long day.

"Excuse me, sir," he heard a small voice whispering beside him, just as he was taking a deep breath. The man slowly turned his head in that direction but couldn't see who was talking. Not before the low hiss of the silencer sliced through the air, and the bullet went straight through the center of his nose and out from the back of his skull. The wall behind him was covered in a dense splatter of blood, and then he collapsed to the ground, dragging his back along the wall. All the smoke he had inhaled slammed out of her mouth, and then his head fell forward, his chin against her chest.

The lit cigarette fell to the ground, and a second later, a small black shoe smashed it down hard to turn it off.

Leena Klammer's hard, dark eyes looked indifferently at the cleaner for a few moments, mainly to make sure he wasn't going to move unexpectedly; he didn't. She put the gun back, complete with its silencer, in the backpack she carried in her other hand. She quickly placed it on her back and approached the corpse, searching for his access badge.

"Was that necessary?" Lily's cunning voice murmured with some sarcasm, coming up behind her, still leaning on her crutches.

"I don't have time for false courtesies," Esther muttered, just when she had the badge between her fingers.

It had been a tiring journey from Moesko Island to that hidden point in Oregon. They had to take a much slower route to get around Portland. They stopped in Willamina for a night's rest. The next day, Esther used a considerable chunk of the money from her mysterious client to buy a somewhat old but functional truck from a scrap dealer, who was willing not to ask too many questions and make the vehicle fit for someone with Esther's complexion, so she could drive it. And she spent a little extra as long as the man had it ready the following day. That would be their getaway vehicle, at least the best they could have gotten in such a short time.

Esther would have to do something she didn't like very much for the last leg of that trip: adopt a somewhat different appearance than usual. There is no makeup to hide the blemishes and wrinkles on her face, no children's dresses, no elaborate hairstyles, and no chokers or bracelets. Taking, in a nutshell, the appearance of a grown woman, short in stature, but still a grown woman. Many would sum it up to assume the appearance of who she really was, but that opinion she did not share. If perhaps on the stretch of road that they would have to drive, they had to be stopped by a police officer, it would be easier to get out of trouble if she presented herself with that appearance, and not with that of the nine-year-old at the wheel.

Maybe she risked that some state trooper was looking for a woman with her appearance, but she would have to take that little risk.

They were still apparently lucky, as no one bothered them on their way to Eola. Well, luck, or perhaps the good fortune of someone watching their journey from afar.

They parked and hidden the van behind the hospital, and there they waited for nightfall. While they waited, Leena used the time to re-groom herself and become Esther again.

"Seriously?" Lily had questioned her from the back seat as she watched her put her makeup back on in front of a small purse mirror. "Does your own face scare you so much that you can't tolerate having it exposed for a long time? How pathetic you are."

Leena glanced at her for a moment, then went about her business without much waiting. She wouldn't understand; she or anyone else. The person who looked in the mirror when she wasn't groomed was Leena Klammer. But she wasn't Leena, and she hadn't been for many years.

"Call me Esther. Leena Klammer died a long, long time ago."

That was what she had said to that boy the day he suddenly showed up at her apartment in Los Angeles. And that was not a mere whim or a frivolous request; it was utterly true in her mind. The little that her father, the streets, and the asylum had left of Leena Klammer had died that night in the frozen waters of that lake. What had emerged from the water at that moment had been someone totally different... if not, perhaps the correct thing to say would be to say that it was a "something." That she still did not know. But whatever it was, for her, the actual mask was Leena's, not Esther's.

Once they had the man's badge, they entered through the door he had barred and crept through the corridors. That was a mental hospital, so it was much less common to see two girls walking around alone. But that was not a problem, because Lily took care of it very well. Using her abilities, she made them go totally unnoticed by the three or four people who came to cross their path. They passed by without being seen or heard by them. In fact, they could advance with moderate haste; very appropriate considering one of them was on crutches.

Their destination was the hospital security control room. Once they reached the door, Esther again took out her weapon and used the badge she had taken to open it. Lily, at that point, stopped hiding them, so just as the door opened, the two guards inside quickly turned to it and noticed the two girls standing on the other side. Esther quickly entered with hurried steps, heading towards them without saying anything.

"Hey, what are you doing...?" One of the guards muttered, standing up from his chair. Before he finished his question, a direct shot from Esther's gun struck him right in the forehead, causing him to collapse back onto the chair and then fall to the floor along with it.

The other guard stared dumbfounded at the gun in the girl's hands, then at his partner lying on the ground. Everything went so fast that he couldn't even fully process what had happened. He couldn't reach for his radio, couldn't even get up from his chair, or reach his hand up to his own gun. Immediately another whistle from the silencer was present, and the bullet pierced his right temple. His torso slumped forward onto the control console, which began to stain red as the guard's wild eyes stared at the wall.

"Wow, what happened to discretion and going unnoticed?" Lily murmured once inside the room and closed the door behind her." Or with that new silencer, you serve that purpose?"

"To hell with that," Esther replied as she walked over to the panel controls. She abruptly pushed the second guard from the chair he was in to knock him down so she could get on. "I want to get out of this hole as quickly as possible."

"Are you really so bothered by madhouses? Just because you were in one? Are you afraid of staying here locked up?"

Esther did not respond, but that statement was indeed quite correct. She hated places like that, and what she least wanted was to be there more than necessary.

She quickly scanned the dash in front of her, identifying the available options. There was an emergency mechanism in case of a major mishap that opened all the electronic locks to evacuate patients; that would be of great help. She then looked at the monitors, checking the corridors that were interspersed from time to time. It would be very opportune to find the person they were looking for in one of them, but, evidently, their luck did not go that far.

Esther grabbed her backpack and reached inside for the two yellow walkie-talkies she had brought with her and tossed one at Lily. The latter barely managed to catch it before it slipped from her fingers.

"I need you to find the brat and tell me how to get to her," Esther indicated in a blunt order. "I also need a distraction to move more freely."

At that moment, she hit the emergency option, and alarms began to blare all over the place, and the orange lights flash brightly. Through the monitors, it was possible to see how some of the patients' doors were opened, and they looked confused towards the corridors.

"Will you free all the nuts?" Lily asked curiously.

"And you'll give them a few nightmares," Esther added knowingly. "If you know what I mean."

Lily seemed a bit puzzled by such a suggestion. She looked up at the monitors. More patients, nurses, and other guards began to move through the corridors without understanding what was happening.

"All of them?"

"All. Can you do it or not?"

"Of course," Lily replied with considerable pride. "But with the chaos that will cause, I cannot guarantee that any of them will not end up attacking you."

"I'll manage." Esther got out of the chair then, her backpack on her back, her walkie-talkie in a pocket, and the gun steady in her right hand. Then she hurried toward the exit. "Let me know as soon as you find the girl. And don't get out of here until I tell you to."

Esther then walked out the door, closing it behind her.

"It's not like I can go very far with my damn leg in this state, anyway," Lily muttered in annoyance.

The girl sat in the chair and turned to the monitors, watching everyone who appeared. She must cause chaos, that was clear to her. And creating chaos was just what she did best. Although she had never used her abilities simultaneously with so many people, there would always be a first time.

She took a deep breath, leaned forward, staring at the monitors, and concentrated.

She had to admit that whatever it was, the idea of being able to make such a mess caused her some excitement.

"What's going on?" Cody mumbled, confused, standing up from his chair. Samara didn't answer anything.

The alarms were ringing loudly, and down the hall, they could hear some hustle and bustle. Was it a fire? Right at that moment? It seemed rather inconvenient... or perhaps the opposite?

Anyway, what would be the best? Wait there for someone to look for them? Or go to an emergency exit? As a teacher, he had had to perform drills and guided the children to the exits; that was his responsibility. But, this time, for some reason, he felt they were safer in there than venturing out into the hallway. But why? He had no logical reason to justify that thought. Although did he have any that was illogical?

He put his briefcase and things on the floor and started toward the door.

"Stay here," he pointed out to Samara, doubtful if that would be the responsible action of an adult. "I'm going to find out what's going on, and we'll keep talking about this. I won't be long."

Samara only nodded her head but didn't say anything else.

Cody wouldn't allow himself to think about it directly. Still, that part of his head screaming at him to leave felt a lot more relieved the moment he walked through the door and was several steps away from Samara. Was that girl scared him? He, who was supposed to have gone there to show her that she was right? As he walked down the hall, he was sickened by that idea.

For her side, Samara sat for a while, silently staring at the closed door. When she was sure that Cody was no longer near her, she turned back to the mirror. And there she was again, the other Samara, peering out from the distorted reflection. This time she was not surprised; she even wished it were so.

"It's time," the being in the mirror whispered slowly. "You must leave now..."

Samara did not express objection or doubt. She only nodded once, stood up, and began to walk towards the door calmly.

Just a few seconds after Dr. Scott's body collapsed to the pavement between Matilda, Cole, and Detective Vazquez, the alarms rang out loudly as if the two incidents were somehow related. When that happens, the expected course of action is to head to the nearest exit. Still, Matilda wanted to do just the opposite. That alarm was her signal to get in as soon as possible.

"Samara, I have to find her," was all she said before rushing toward the door.

"Matilda, wait," Cole stopped her quickly, taking her arm with perhaps a slight roughness. "Let me come in first to see that everything is okay."

"I don't have time," the psychiatrist answered sharply and jerked out of his grip. "Something is going on with Samara; I can feel it."

"What are you talking about?" Vazquez intervened, approaching them with his crutches. "What's going on in there?"

"We know as much as you do right now, Detective," Cole replied dryly. The confrontational tone they had maintained earlier had apparently not entirely faded.

Suddenly, they heard an intense sound coming from inside the hospital, similar to a metallic object hitting the ground hard. This was followed by a loud scream, more blows identical to the previous one, and then more screams.

"What was that?" Vazquez muttered, who instinctively brought his hand closer to the weapon he kept at his waist.

The sounds became louder; it seemed as if some kind of fight was going on inside. That, instead of scaring Matilda, motivated her even more to go inside. And before Cole could stop her again, she ran for the doors, through them only a second after they were opened enough for her to pass.

"Matilda," Cole called out loudly, but she didn't stop. The Philadelphia detective lunged behind, and Vazquez followed both of them, somewhat slower but with his gun in hand.

At first, they did not detect the source of all the commotion they were hearing. In the hall and in the first corridors, everything seemed quiet, except for the screams and sounds in the distance, as well as the alarms. However, it didn't take long for them to find what they were looking for. The three of them stopped in their tracks when they saw a group of nurses and patients down the corridor through which they had turned. The latter screamed in terror, hitting the male and female nurses who tried to calm them down, tackled them, and even scratched and bit them. It was like a pitched fight, right in that tiny space.

Everything was chaos and also accompanied by the incessant sound of the alarm that pierced the ears.

"What's wrong with everyone?" Cole exclaimed and immediately stepped forward to try to separate a patient from a nurse struggling on the floor. "What happened?! What happens?!"

"Monsters! They are all monsters!" The patient he was holding shouted at him in despair and horror, and who also suddenly tried to attack him. Cole struggled with him, trying to put him against the wall.

"What is he saying? What monsters?"

"I don't know," the nurse exclaimed, agitated, sitting on the floor because it seemed that it was still impossible for her to stand up. "The alarm sounded suddenly, the doors opened, and as soon as we tried to lead them to the exit, they just went crazy. But these are not so severe patients; they should not have this type of episode. Especially all at the same time."

Cole didn't answer anything, but he immediately sensed that there might be an outside influence causing all of this. He grabbed hold of the man he was holding and tried to drag him into one of the open rooms.

"Police!" He heard Vazquez yell loudly, raising his weapon in the air. "Everybody, calm down! What is happening?! What is the situation...?!"

One of the patients, a blonde-haired woman, jumped on him, knocking him to the ground and immediately trying to scratch his face with her nails. Vazquez took her firmly by the wrists, trying to shake her off. Cole immediately reached over to grab the woman by the waist and lift her off him.

"You better get out of here, Detective!" Cole suggested though it sounded more like an order. But Vazquez was clearly not willing to take that advice in a good way.

While they were both dealing with this situation, Matilda had been a bit on the sidelines, analyzing everything to decide what to do. That was pretty serious, and just like Cole, she guessed that something, or someone, was causing the behavior. However, her mind was still focused on Samara. It could not be a coincidence that this happened in that place and at that time. She had to find Samara and get her to safety as soon as possible. It was a feeling that pushed her to just focus on that, a sensation very similar to what she had felt that night in May four years ago.

Without saying anything, she took a few steps back and ran back the way they came, trying to find another route to where Samara and Cody should be.

"Matilda!" She heard Cole yell at her, but again she didn't stop. She ran away, trying to leave all that madness behind.

When it all started, Anna Morgan heard the mechanical latch on her door click, and then the alarm began to sound, shaking her head from all the thoughts she was having. A few minutes earlier, she was combing her long black hair with a brush, as she always used to do every night since she was a child. She did not have a mirror in that room because of her apparent suicidal tendencies, and they feared that she might try to break it and use one of the pieces to finish cutting her veins. She thought wryly that she might as well have tried that with the plastic brush, but it would definitely have been less pleasant. In the same way, the idea of dying did not cross her mind at the moment; she could not allow herself to die before that thing that had entered their lives to the point of corrupting and withering them completely. Until she was sure that this girl was no longer breathing, she could consider the best way to leave this world.

She remained seated on her bed, waiting for someone to look for her toward the door. None came. Her only companion was the annoying sound of the alarm.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Anna snapped loudly, but she heard nothing in response.

A few minutes later, she had made up her mind to move to the door, and then the sounds of confrontation, fighting, and the madness that were going on outside reached her ears. Scared, she instinctively ducked behind the bed, glancing just enough over the edge toward the door. In her mind, she imagined that at any moment some dark and hideous creature would enter through there; the kind with which she had had so many nightmares since that brat of the Devil got into her head. She could see it just as she had done during the nights: stretching its long fingers, staring at her with its six golden eyes, opening his huge jaw covered in dirty fangs and toxic saliva, to rip her head off in one fell swoop.

But there was no monster or anything else. Little by little, the fighting sounds dissipated or instead moved away as if the commotion was moving. Anna carefully crawled out of her hiding place, walked to the door, and opened it just a little to peer out into the hallway.

She didn't see anything or anyone at first. She opened more and gave herself the courage to step out. The rest of the rooms were open. In the corridor, she saw sheets and papers lying on the ground. To her right, there was what seemed to be a cart of medical utensils, tilted on the floor. Pouring syringes, cotton wool, scalpels, and some small bottles of medicine were through it.

She turned her gaze a little more towards the adjacent corridor, and then there she saw something that shook her and made her back away. On the left wall was a long stain of blood, trickling downward and ending in the body of a man in a white coat, lying on the linoleum on his right side, totally still.

At first glance, she could not see where that blood had come from, or if he was dead or just unconscious; and really, at that moment, she didn't care about such things.

Anna felt the instinct to go back to her room, but she held it back. She didn't know exactly what was happening, but one thing was sure: that was caused by that... thing. She was driving everyone crazy, as she did with her beloved horses; as she did with herself. It was not enough for the child to destroy her house and family; she had to spread death and madness wherever she was.

Anna knew that would happen sooner or later. She had warned that doctor, but evidently, he did not listen; nobody did.

It would be up to her alone to fix all that.

She bent down to pick up one of the scalpels on the floor, held it firmly between her fingers, and began to move slowly down the hall. That would be perhaps her only chance to end that curse.

END OF CHAPTER 41