Chapter Thirty-One: The Enabler

Her molars grinded down her scream to a snarl as her shoulder slid against painted cement. The wall was like ice on her fevered temple. Each agonizing footstep, enforced the reality of her injured leg as she tried to maintain four paces behind the man.

'Injured'?

The reality is that she would never be able to run the same way again and she almost found that hilarious, except the tears were dense in her throat. Carmen strained to swallow them down, but still a whimper escaped.

She only saw the man's cheek to know his intention would be to look at her.

"Keep walking." Despite her voice sounding tight, it was clear to the doctor, who would be in greater agony if he were to disobey.

The man stiffened and averted his gaze frontward.

It was in this moment, while she tried so hard to focus on maintaining a gentle constant pace without aggravating her wound, did the man decide to speak.

"Your brother...Adam...I know why he did that to you."

"Yeah? What does the shrink have to say?"

"You're his sister."

As they approached the end of the hall, the light from the room they had left was becoming weaker with every retreating step and Carmen found it was becoming harder to see the doctor. Still, she tried to convince herself it was the absence of light and not her body failing her from exhaustion which prevented her from seeing clearly.

"He murdered my mother," she mumbled. Carmen found it strange that she could admit that so easily. As though she's accepted it. "They weren't siblings."

His steps shortened and faltered, something in her confession piqued his interest. As she slowed her broken gait, his head cocked to the side.

"How?"

"What?"

"How did he kill her?"

The words came to her without much deliberation. "He made it look like a suici—…" Her gaze sharpened. "What type of question is that?"

The man hummed curiously. "You know... a year ago, Adam attempted to visit Michael at Smith's Grove, but he was denied."

"Is that where I am? Smith's Grove?"

The man ignored her question.

"Because he wanted to understand him, we eventually corresponded," his voice adopted a pitch of fascination.

Had she not just told this man that her brother is a psychopath?

Carmen opened her mouth, but the doctor was already speaking and it forced her ear.

"Of course, I was never assigned Michael's case, however, that didn't stop me from reading into his caretaker's reports. Did you know that familicide is a common phenomenon? It's not just a random act of lunacy. There are many instances of that in the Old World…as for example...sacrifice."

"Where are you going with this?"

"As we know it, son of the Myers kills first born at age six and attempts to do so with the last at age twenty one. Laurie Strode's survival is his only driving force. It's why I brought him here...To know why she keeps him alive. To know why no attempt on his life has sent him to the grave. All those idiots that insist to do away with him are wasting the opportunity."

"You... told Adam to free him..."

"Of course! And I think I'm beginning to understand...Certain acts can become adopted into behaviors, become traits, and can often be encoded into our DNA and manifest without a catalyst. In fact, I discovered the Myers genealogy, if you trace back only five generations, had participated in some ritualistic sacrifice. Just imagine what others ties the name has, if I can find documents leading to ten, maybe even twenty generations. We can unearth the secret of what makes these killers...Funny, isn't it?"

"What does this have to do with Adam?"

"He seems to have developed an unhealthy...dependency on Michael. Apparently, they grew up together? I believe Adam has assumed Michael's nature."

Carmen almost tripped over herself like her thoughts had. No. If her thoughts were linked and proceeding through her mind like a train, then they had just derailed from their tracks and crashed into the wall of her skull.

Does that explain it, then? The connection between Michael and Adam. An innocent childhood relationship?

"And, since you mentioned he killed your mother, this explains why he did what he did to you. Like Michael, he's brazen."

Brazen…

Brazen is what you call children who don't obey their parents. Brazen is an animal that attacks a passing human that infringes on its territory.

Adam was not brazen. He was Michael's follower.

That's beyond insanity.

"He's a piece of art, isn't he?" Dr. Wynn asked.

"If he's a piece of art," Carmen said hollowly. "Then what does that make Myers?"

A light laugh rang in his chest and she felt nauseous hearing it.

"A masterpiece. And I'm surprised he hasn't killed your brother yet. Maybe he feels sorry for him. I certainly do."

The red glow of the exit sign made the man's skin a dark tinge of pink. It was under the dark red light did she think the shadows appear to be churning into shapes. Into a person. Tall. Broad torso tapered to a strong waist. Long legs covered by carhartts. The knife fisted in his hand—

She blinked. And saw the doctor's shadow stiffly silhouetted on the wall. When he opened the door, his shadow faded.

Carmen shook her head, a rattle to her brain. She straightened the arm gripping the revolver.

Stop...being tired…she told herself. As though that was something she could control through sheer will.

"No...no, it can't bet," she muttered.

"I know it's hard to believe but...have you ever heard of a shared psychotic disorder?"

"But…Adam told me…"

"What?"

It's Michael, Carmen. You remember him, don't you? He's going to kill you...he's saving you for last...

Carmen shook her head.

"Keep moving."

Rainfall cooled her skin upon contact. In a matter of seconds, her clothes become wet and heavy, sticking to her body like a second skin.

They emptied the building into the employee parking lot of Smith's Grove. An orange mustang sat in front of them. Carmen startled when the exit door clunked shut behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the cinderblock walls patterned with barred windows. She wondered if a ghostly white mask would be gazing back from them.

"Alright…Now what?" The doctor asked with his back to her, his voice on the verge of yelling to overcome the screaming winds gusting through the trees.

"Here…"

Heaving her legs against the gale, she reached into her skirt pocket, then flicked her wrist. The carkeys rattled through the air once he turned around. He clumsily caught them and looked at her expectantly.

"Open the door. Start the car."

It'd taken him a few moments to rush around the driver's side and key the ignition. The engine growled awake. High beam lights momentarily burned her retinas. Carmen lowered the gun, her arm sore.

As the doctor saw this, he had the nerve to smile. Exiting the car, he said, "I did what you asked. Am I fr— "

"No." Carmen raised her arm again. Her face felt numb as she forced her mouth into a grimace. "You are going to get into that car...and...we're going to drive somewhere you can turn yourself in..."

It sounded so simple. And it was simple. In theory.

Do this, and it might be over.

If he'd shown her amusement before, he wasn't now.

"You're as insane as your brother." His voice was low, concealing a threat. It didn't bother her. In fact, she'd say it would be more unnerving if he said not a word.

"Am I?" Carmen snapped, forcing her ragged voice. "Do you know people have died because of your stupid study? Because of your...obsession?" She'd hoped to remind herself to keep from crying, but it was too late for correction. "Michael Myers...killed...a girl in front of me." To spite me. "A police officer." Who didn't know any better. "And he tried to kill me." And, he could've done it, but Carmen didn't want to know what kept him from doing so. She wanted to stop thinking about him altogether.

Her vision was blurring. It could have been from the rain falling into her eyes.

"You let him out..."

Six resounding shots echoed through the forest in her mind. She tried to banish the flashback, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking of the knife. Of the mask. Of the black, black void of Michael's eyes...

Exhaustion was creeping into her veins and she found she could no longer hold the gun straight…

But as long as her finger was hooked around the trigger…

Carmen's lips pulled back and she grit through bared teeth:

"You're going to answer for what you did."