Danielle lay in her cell, unable to stop thinking about what just happened. Michael Myers, the cold blooded killer had held her hand? Not just briefly either. He'd held it and hadn't let go until they had to return to their cells. Michael Myers? She could still hardly believe it and if she hadn't felt it for herself, wasn't sure she would have. She sighed to herself in the silence. She meant what she'd said to him. 'If you could, I'd ask you to kill me.' She couldn't understand why Smith's Grove at least were so keen to keep her alive. Who would miss her? Her parents left her, and was forced to abandon all of her friends because of him. 'Stop it for fuck sake!' She shouted at herself. Just stop! They made their decision, they're not worth it! 'But how could they?' Said another quieter voice in her head. How the fuck could they do that to me? Silently, she let herself cry.

"Give me your fucking phone and make sure the screen is on or you know what will happen." She nodded meekly, doing as she was told. She'd long since learned that there was no point in arguing or trying to disobey him, it only made things worse. She turned off voiceover on her iPhone and handed it over. "Good girl," he said, already looking through her texts. But she was one step ahead of the bastard. She'd deleted anything which may be considered as suspicious, even a 'hey how are you?' From any of her male friends. As long as she kept remembering to do that, she was safe. That was all well and good when he came home for the evening, but if he asked for her phone during the day, and she wasn't expecting it she had no time to prepare. Those were the worst times. Absently, she rubbed the huge bruise on her cheek and winced. Damn, it hurt. He hit her with a closed fist.

"Appears you have nothing to worry about tonight then babe," he handed her back her phone. "Now get my dinner going and then I'm going to fuck you. Move! Everything's there for you to find."

She could hardly believe she'd wound up in this situation. When she started college, it had really looked like she was on the way up. She had good friends, a great support network and was doing well at her studies. Why, why had she met him at the student bar that day? Why had she let him so deep into her life? Her heart?

The day had started like any other. She'd just finished her English class and had went to the student café. Knowing where it was, having been taught on one of her many mobility sessions around the place. She'd gone up to the counter, the worker greeting her with a cheerful, "Hey Danielle, what can I get you?" They all knew her by now of course. She'd ordered her usual coffee and bagel, taking a seat at one of the tables the worker guided her to.

"Hey there," said a male voice. She at first wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not, until he touched her arm. "How are you? I'm Adam."

So the conversation had continued. She'd talked to him until her next class, then saw him in the café again the next day. This went on for the next three days until they finally swapped numbers. They talked on the phone almost daily and texted constantly. She probably should've paid attention to the red flags she was noticing instead of dismissing them. The "where are you?" Or "what are you doing and who with?" messages. But she just ignored them as romantic interest. More to fool her. Now she realised how naïve she'd been. As time went on, they grew closer and closer until one day, it'd finally happened. He'd asked her out on a date. He'd taken her to a lovely restaurant for dinner and kissed her goodnight on her doorstep, guiding her as if he'd known how to for years. She had never felt happier.

She'd finished her courses with a solid 4.0, much to her delight, and that was when he'd asked her to move in with him. She was looking for an apartment at the time, having lived in a dorm room at the college. This was like a dream come true for her. She was going to live with the man she loved, and not have to worry about renting an apartment. She almost couldn't believe it. As time went on though, she started to realise too late that she may have walked straight into his trap. "You're not seeing those friends tonight," he'd say. When she'd ask why, he'd reply "Because I said so." She soon learned that she was powerless. She knew some of the local streets where they lived but was too afraid to even walk to a store or call for help, terrified that he might be listening or standing behind her and she wouldn't have any idea.

Then came the text from her parents which had changed her life forever.

Danielle, this is where we say goodbye. We have done our best for you while you were growing up, but now you're totally independent and on your own two feet, we don't want to have anything further to do with you. We never wanted a blind daughter. We wish you well, but you're not perfect so we don't want you. Goodbye.

She had read the message at least twice, unable to believe her ears, then deleted it. She didn't want Adam to see it. It was her business and that controlling bastard wouldn't get anywhere near it. She just thanked God, if he existed, that this particular text had come at a time when she was able to delete it before he checked her phone.

"Right, dinner was ok but you could do better, now come to bed. I want to fuck. Move." She had long since learned that when he made this demand, resisting was useless. The first time she tried to resist was when she'd received a black eye. She didn't have to see it to know, she could feel it. It'd hurt for about a week and swollen to at least twice its normal size. He never praised her cooking. If God forbid she left a tiny piece of egg shell or something in his food, even though it was obvious she didn't know, she paid the price for it. This continued for almost a year, until the final day when she realised there was only one way out.

"I told you not to talk to him, you slut!" Adam yelled, grabbing her by her neck. "You do as I say!"

"I'm sorry Sir," she whimpered. That was another thing. She'd never been allowed to call him Adam from the moment she'd moved in. That'd been one of his house rules. "You do as I say, you cook me dinner every night. I work hard, and I want it ready when I come in. You don't talk to or see your friends. You give me your bank card. You clean the house." She could cope with most of those but it'd been the last one which was the hardest. "You also address me as Sir. Do you understand?"

At first she'd thought he was joking, but he'd soon proved her wrong when she'd called him Adam by pouring boiling water over her. The burns had been agonising but he wouldn't let her seek help, he just threw a jar of salve at her. "Use that," he'd said. "Stop bitching."

"What?" He'd said to her on that horrific day. "Want a good fucking, do you?" Before he'd slammed her to the table, unzipped his jeans before cutting hers off with a knife, cutting her leg which had resulted in one of her many scars and thrusting his dick into her. No care, no tenderness. It'd made her bleed. She remembered that. He'd held the knife against her face as he raped her. It was then that she felt utterly hopeless. 'No more,' she'd thought as he continued to viciously rape her. 'No more, I can't take any more of this, I need a way out and there's only one I can take.' As he came, he'd cut her face, resulting in the worst scar she had. This not taking into account the many burns, punches and so on she'd had to endure over the past year.

With the cut across her face streaming blood she went out the back, into their small garage where Adam kept his tools and within seconds found what she was looking for. A long length of rope. With shaky hands, she fastened it into a noose. This was how she'd be able to escape him permanently. She'd learned how to tie knots years ago while in girl scouts and she was now exceptionally thankful for this. Standing on a chair, she fastened the noose to one of the high slats and then around her neck. All she had to do now was jump. So she did.

"You ok?" Joanne asked Danielle the next morning as she walked with her to breakfast. She gave her a small nod. "You look pale," Joanne said. "You sure you're alright?"

This time she managed a small smile at the guard. "I didn't sleep too well last night," she admitted, eventually. "Bad dreams."

"I'm sorry," Joanne said sympathetically. "If you talk to one of the doctors they can prescribe you sleeping pills."

She nodded. "Thanks, but I think I'm ok." Privately though she thought one more dream like that and she just might have to. But then she thought about how the dream had ended and felt herself blushing. No way could she tell Michael about it. Although she kind of wished she could. 'Wo Hayward!' She shouted at herself. 'You're thinking about what it would be like if Michael Myers made love to you? After what Adam did? Jesus girl! What's wrong with you? I'm starting to believe again in hope.' Said a quiet voice in her head. 'Is that it? You can't! The other voice snapped. Hope maybe, but not love! Don't let any man get too close! You can't do it! Not again!'

"Danielle," Dr Stark said when she entered the room for her session. "Dr Loomis has asked me if I can work with you for a short while, given what you disclosed to us yesterday. That took a lot of bravery. My field is more domestic violence and suicide than his is. Is that ok with you?" She nodded. "Fine," she said quietly. Hell, they were in charge, not her and it appeared they genuinely were trying to help her get better.

"I'll talk to you," she said softly. "But can I ask one question?" She gave the doctor an embarrassed smile. "Where are you? I can hear your voice through the speakers, but where are you?"

"I'm sorry, hold on a second." There was a soft click as the speakers were turned off. Then there was a whirring sound and the window in front of her slid down smoothly. "I'm here," Dr Stark said and touched her hand.

"I take it you're not supposed to do that?" She smiled at Dr Stark. Dr Stark squeezed her hand. "No, but we don't consider you a risk," She could tell by her voice that she was smiling. "I'll keep it open for you if it makes you feel more at ease"

"It does," she said truthfully. "Can't lie, I like to know where the person I'm talking to is as opposed to a disembodied voice."

"I understand that," Dr Stark said and lightly touched her arm again. "No problem, this is how we'll work from here on in. Ok, would you mind going back to the beginning for me? How did you meet Adam?"

She took a deep breath and once again began telling her story. She had no idea how freeing it would feel to tell the real story. She told her about college, the student café, Adam's charm and how he'd shown his true colours after she moved in with him and how he had her trapped. "That's what scares me," she said eventually, reaching for the doctor's hand again without thinking. Dr Stark took it and squeezed. "What the hell is going on with me and Mr. Myers? He's a killer and yet he's looking out for me! What else can you call what happened? I'm trying to tell myself it's just protection, it means nothing. I don't want to come across as one of these desperate people who jumps at the first sign that a man gives a damn! For all I know, if or when I leave here, Mr. Myers might not want any further contact with me."

"Why don't you ask him? He may not use his voice, but I'm sure he'll find another way to communicate how he feels to you. Are you going to let Adam destroy your life? I understand, believe me I do but you have to live your life. You're still alive after all."

"Only because I was found," She muttered. "I wouldn't be otherwise, damn it!"

"Ah, but then you wouldn't have met Michael. Would you take that experience back?"

"Come on Dr Stark!" She lightly hit the small table on her side of the glass "Please! It doesn't mean anything to him. He's just…" Trying to help me? A cold blooded killer? Looking out for me? Just…"

"Just?" Dr Stark prompted. "Just what?"

"Ah fucking hell! I don't know! We're both trapped here, he's probably just wants female companionship. If we were out in public he'd probably have killed me already!"

"Do you really think that?" Dr Stark asked. "Really?"

"Um yes," She said sarcastically. "He's a fucking serial killer!"

"Be honest with me here. If I gave you back that noose right now and said jump, would you?"

She opened her mouth to say, yes, immediately, but found that she couldn't. She actually found herself considering the doctor's question. Would she? Even if Myers didn't care about her that way, wanting no further contact once she left. Had he given her the confidence to live on and try again? Or would she just slump back into depression when she had to leave him? "I… I don't know," she said sincerely. "I can't say for sure either way."

"Well that's a good start," Dr Stark said "That's better than a straight out yes."

"That's what I almost said," She admitted. "But something made me stop and think."

"I know. I saw it in your face. I think that "something" was the interaction between you and Michael Myers."

"Come on!" She felt exasperated. "He's just… I don't know! Looking out for me or something. That's all it is! Like I say if we weren't in here I'd be dead now."

"If you say so," Dr Stark said quietly. "We'll have to agree to disagree."

"You're crazy," She muttered. She could hear the smile in the doctor's voice when she replied. "Perhaps, we'll see. Even if you're right and it turns out he doesn't want further contact, he's given you confidence. Would you be able to take that on without it?"

"I know most people would say what you want to hear to be released," She smiled faintly. "But I'm not going to do that. I don't know. I'm desperately trying not to get too close to him. Emotionally, I mean. I hardly know the guy and yet I feel like I know everything about him! God knows I've studied him enough."

"I see your point, but I think you're forgetting one thing. He won't have had much care either. So I think he may be thinking the exact the same thing you are."

She opened her mouth to say 'no way,' but Dr Stark stopped her. "Just hear me out ok? I think you should try and ask him, and if he wants you to know something he'll find a way to tell you. Haven't you considered that he has scars of his own? Ok, you can't see them, none of us can, but that doesn't mean they're any less painful than physical ones. Again you may be helping him in exactly the same way he's helping you. Don't just assume it's all about you. Consider this from Michael's perspective."

She was stunned into silence. If truth be told, she hadn't. Not really. Did that make her selfish?

"No," Dr Stark said as if reading her mind. How the hell did psychiatrists do that? "You're not selfish, you're hurting. You don't feel that you can trust a man and the fact that one may need your help as much as you need his is of course going to be a strange idea to you after what Adam did. Just take time to think about it, ok? Just consider what I've said to you. There are two of you in this in this situation. Do you want my honest opinion?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"You're scared to get close to him, how do you know he's not scared to get close to you? Like you say, he's a killer. But love can change anyone's heart, melt the hardest façade. Why are you finding this so hard to believe? I know what you're going to say. Because you have scars because of what Adam did. Correct? Well I'll tell you something, not all men are Adam. Then your next argument will be but he's a killer. Yes? But you know something? He's still a man. You've read Myers' case," She nodded. "Then you'll know that Dr Loomis thinks there's nothing left, he feels nothing. For the first time in years I'm starting to think he might be wrong, and it's you who's bringing it out in him. He's only human just as you. You both have a past; you both have fears. Yes," she added before Danielle could speak. "I believe that even Michael Myers has fears. You may be the one to help him face his just as it seems he is helping you face yours. Stop fighting it, just see where it goes. I'll level with you; you won't be going anywhere for a while yet so you both have time to explore your thoughts and feelings. Unless there's anything else, this concludes today's session," Dr Stark said, squeezing Danielle's hand a final time.

Joanne walked in and Danielle stood up and slipped her arm through hers, and this time she didn't try so hard to burst the bubble which was expanding in her heart, for the first time since that day. This time she could also put a name to it. Hope.

Adam strolled into his house, whistling. He was in good spirits. Ok, so he was on bail for alleged domestic abuse. Ok, so that blind bitch had friends trying to bring him down. They couldn't prove half of what they were alleging. He smirked to himself. 'Good luck trying.' She was in the nuthouse for attempting to commit suicide after all. Who'd believe her now? He felt his cock hardening, as he thought of Charlotte. She'd fancied him for ages while he'd been showing that bitch Danielle who was boss. She'd waited though, not believing anything her friends said about him. That was all well and good, because it meant that in time, Adam would also take Charlotte under his control. She would also do as he said just as Danielle had. He grinned as he remembered the day he'd approached Charlotte in the little store she worked in, and asked her out for coffee on her lunch break.