The Shape lay beside Danielle, holding her tightly in his arms. She was fast asleep at last, having finally been persuaded by Dr Stark to take a sleeping pill. He however was wide awake. His mind racing. He was Michael Myers, the masked, silent killer. Yet, there was something about the woman lying next to him that he couldn't stop thinking about. What had she done to him?

If he was honest with himself, it'd started the very first time he'd seen her. When he'd touched her arm as she approached him. Chained to his block or not, he could've just turned around and strangled her to death before the guards even got there, if he'd wanted to. But he hadn't. Was it because he'd realised she was vulnerable in not being able to see, hence fight him? Or was it that he had detected how vulnerable she was mentally as well as physically?

It hadn't ended there. He hadn't let it end there. No. Instead, he'd taken her hand the next time, guided her to her cell even, before he'd finally lain with and held her. That had all been before he'd first tried to, then had killed Jefferson. All because he'd sexually assaulted Danielle Hayward. Why had he cared so much? It wasn't his business. Yet, he'd acted before he'd even realised how he felt for her.

He hadn't taken advantage of her sexually. He could've, yet he hadn't. She was too scarred for that. But again, why did he care? He could've had his pleasure from her way before this. Even before he'd known what Adam had done to her, before he'd seen Danielle in court? He recalled the rage he'd felt, the desire to kill Adam for what he'd done.

He suspected he even took a little comfort, for want of a better word, that he still could kill anyone. He still felt that murderous rage and wouldn't hesitate to act on it. But Ryan… He was different somehow. When Myers had almost grabbed his throat, he'd apologised to him when the guard had returned. That wasn't him at all!

It was Danielle Hayward. What had she done to him? He tightened his arms around her. Finally, when that guard, Baker, had successfully been bribed by someone as yet unknown to give Adam Danielle's number. This time he'd been united with Dr Stark and the others.

He was furious and the guard had to die. The Shape suspected that if he hadn't done it, one of the guards may have. He couldn't deny it, and he'd given up trying. Danielle Hayward had changed him in a way he still didn't fully understand. He could no longer brush his feelings off. He knew it.

He lent forward and softly stroked her hair. Her mouth moved in a sleepy smile as he did so and he felt his heart contract. This was a new feeling that he had never felt before, it made him hold her closer to him. But the biggest realisations were that he cared for her, as far as he was concerned, and he was preparing to speak to her.

He hadn't used his voice in 35 years. Yet, Danielle needed it more than anyone else, hell she deserved it more than anyone else. He would, The Shape decided there and then. Soon. He was letting her touch his damn ears! Even moving his head specifically so she could. Whenever she wanted. If anyone else even tried, they'd be dead, end of story. Next thing he'd know, he'd be whistling next…

The way he had to know she was ok all the time, cared about and was kind to her, protective…

The simple truth of all this was, he didn't recognise himself fully as the Michael Myers he'd been since he was 6 anymore. A blind young woman named Danielle Hayward was bringing back the Michael Myers his parents had lost when he'd killed Judith. He still felt indifference when he thought of his dead sister, but Danielle Hayward was teaching him one simple lesson he couldn't escape from, even if he tried. Michael Myers, The Shape, was still a man.

…

Derek Chancer lowered the iPod and removed the earphones, trying to calm himself. This was bad. He didn't need anyone else to tell him that. He knew all about DV codes, (or at least he did since last night when he'd opened the iPod to find a huge document on the subject waiting for him,) but how to crack them was another matter.

They were supposed to be almost impossible to crack, that was the first thing the document, all at least 100 pages of it, had informed him. Plus how was he supposed to do it locked up in here? He couldn't see a way around it. Now he'd just heard that DV Advisor Stacey, tell Danielle her number had been changed again, and she now had some sort of alarm that she could use to protect herself. This was getting more and more complicated.

It wasn't just that either. If John Baker could be identified so quickly and… Disposed of, Chancer didn't fancy the mortality rate. He hadn't seen anything that'd happened mere hours before, but he'd heard more than he wanted to. Michael Myers had killed Baker, Chancer knew it. Then there was the fact that Dr Stark had increased security on her file cabinet. There was no way any of the guards she'd listed would help him, they loved Hayward.

But then he found himself going back to his mother's mantra. Could, should, would. This time, it was, could, which was shouting the loudest. Crack a DV code? Not likely. Should, that was also a not likely. Not fucking likely actually. He knew how dangerous it could be if it went wrong for more than one reason and that wasn't even taking into account the danger he could be putting himself in.

He was only working against Michael Myers now. Why did he want to protect Danielle Hayward so much? Chancer knew he could hardly call his employer and say sorry, there's just no way can I do this, without having thoroughly conducted his research first. So how best to begin.

The DV Advisor. That was it. He could pretend he'd been domestically abused by a woman and that was why he'd started killing them. Although, he mused. He wouldn't have much pretending to do. The woman who'd stolen his father from him and his mother had done enough fucking damage.

Maybe he should pretend she was violent. A female Adam Dawson? He smirked at that thought. Then slowly start asking about DV codes? But he wouldn't ask to talk to Stacey. He knew there were male DV Advisors at Smith's Grove, maybe he could approach one of them. He wouldn't talk to a woman anyway. He'd rather kill and rape her first.

Ok. So a male DV Advisor was his best option. Pretend he was also a victim of domestic violence. But remember to say nothing about Danielle's own case, or it would immediately be clear he'd heard things he shouldn't have, via the iPod. He needed to make up a case. Picking up the pencil and a piece of paper, he started to write his fictional abuse by a fictional woman. He'd flush it down the toilet when he was done and after he had all the facts completely memorised, so no one would, or could, to use his mother's wise words again, detect it was pure fiction he was telling them.

…

"Come in Samuel," the man in the crisp suit and tie said from behind his desk at precisely 9AM the next morning. His shoes gleaming. Dr Loomis inwardly sighed. He hated being called Samuel and this man had the right to do it purely because he was his damn boss. Quietly he entered the office and sat opposite the man behind the desk. He felt a stab of anger. This guy was about to give him orders, when he had no clue how Smith's Grove even worked, as he was never there. He sat up here in his ivory tower and issued demands, without any idea whatsoever of what actually went on. Money. That was his middle name. Privately Dr Loomis strongly disliked him, not an emotion he often felt. It was close to hate actually.

This was Barry Andrews. A money driven, selfish and heartless son of a bitch, as far as Dr Loomis was concerned. The doctors thought his initials should stand for bastard alert. None of them liked him at all. Whatever Andrews had to say to him, Dr Loomis knew it wouldn't be good. It never was.

"So Samuel. We have received information that Michael Myers has killed 2 people in the past month. What are your guards doing to restrain and control the cold blooded killer?"

Again, Dr Loomis' blood started to boil. This was exactly what he'd been talking about. The suited idiot didn't have a clue. He knew nothing of Danielle, Chancer, any of it. Dr Loomis sure as hell wasn't going to tell him. Damn paramedics. He knew they had to report it and he didn't blame them, but to this guy? The one who didn't give a damn about anything but money and order?

"Don't bother replying," his boss said before Dr Loomis could even think of how to frame an answer. "The fact is this isn't good enough. You clearly don't have the correct or well enough trained security guards to take the proper care and precautions with him. I am ordering him to be transferred to a maximum security facility next week.

I'm sorry Samuel, I know you and he have worked together for years, but with him killing 2 people while in our custody leaves me with no other choice. It would appear your equipment is also faulty, as your cameras were facing the wrong way both times. What? Are they broken? I won't stand for this. You get good money from me for security; defective equipment is simply unacceptable."

Dr Loomis bit his tongue. God there was so much he could say. Actually, he imagined himself saying. The masked killer has found and fallen in love. He killed them to protect the woman he loves, oh and she's totally blind by the way, because the perpetrators had put her in unspeakable danger or were point blank cruel and were sexually harassing her! Actually Sir, we were on Mr. Myers's side!

The guards turned off the cameras so you slimy little fucker wouldn't know the truth Sir. He had to look away. He was furious now. Transferring Michael Myers would do so much more harm than good, he knew it. Again, his boss didn't have a clue. Dr Loomis didn't think he'd entered the hospital in the last 3 years. Maybe more. Not a God damn clue.

"I will be arranging a secure bus to pick him up," his boss continued. "We will be taking him to Glass Hill. I assume you know it?"

Dr Loomis felt a shiver of dread. Glass Hill is the pit of hell, he thought. They'd lock Myers up until the end of his days, no contact, nothing. This would very probably finish Danielle Hayward off, possibly driving her towards another suicide attempt. Dr Loomis knew he had to think and fast. But to stop this transfer, he'd had to cross so many lines of ethics he'd probably have to have himself arrested at the end of it.

But he, like everyone else, had come to care for Danielle Hayward and she'd melted Michael Myers's damn heart! That in itself made her worthy of credit. But sadly Dr Loomis could say none of this to the immaculately and expensively suited moron across the desk from him. However there were people he could say it to, people who could help him with a plan which could very easily land him in prison.

So be it, he thought as he left the office. You'll have to catch me and prove it first. Heading back into the ward, Dr Loomis went straight to his office. He had to think. This transfer wouldn't happen if he had anything to do with it.

…

6 hours later.

Derek Chancer had got no sleep the night before. He'd seen and heard everything. Panic began to set in when he saw Baker's body being zipped into a body bag. He hadn't actually seen him die, but he didn't have to. He knew how it'd happened. Michael Myers had killed him. He knew. In which case, it would only be a matter of time before he would come after him. Chancer was actually sure Myers knew already. His confidence he could do this was deserting him fast.

It was all very well making up some fictitious DV story, even that wasn't working out. There were too many holes in it and with every day that passed, this was getting more and more dangerous. He'd seen a male DV Advisor 2 hours ago and started telling his fabricated story, but even to his ears it didn't sound convincing, believable. The truth was he simply hated women. The problem was, it showed. He was quickly losing faith he could make it convincing enough to fool the Advisor.

Then there was the question of how he'd get around to the subject of DV codes without being suspicious. It wasn't like he could ask for a number change because he didn't even have a damn phone! Way too suspicious. Dr Stark and Dr Loomis already suspected someone was watching Danielle and if he moved too fast he'd just prove it. But if he didn't… He'd received another message on the iPod just 30 minutes ago, which was when he'd really and truly started to panic.

OUR CLIENT WANTS HER NEW NUMBER A SECOND TIME. TRY AGAIN!

Nope. He'd have to swallow his pride. Picking up the iPod, he entered the password, his hands were shaking. He needed help and he needed it now. The heat was really coming down, just as he'd feared it would.

…

Gemma Stark was as surprised as everyone else when Michael accepted her offer of help. Jack made to follow her automatically, but the Psychiatrist shook her head. She knew she should probably have a guard nearby, but she felt that would show the killer she wasn't trusting him. Plus, Jack knew she had a panic button under her desk if things did get dangerous.

She and the killer entered the therapy room she and Danielle had used so many times. Totally silently, Michael took his seat on the patient's side and Dr Stark took hers on the other. She closed the glass window and activated the 2 way audio system. Immediately she heard Myers's calm breathing and was glad he didn't see it, or at least gave no sign of it when she shivered slightly. God, she wouldn't want to be his enemy.

She wasn't exactly sure why she'd turned the audio on, she knew Myers wouldn't speak, but she wouldn't feel she was doing her job correctly if she didn't. The killer's gaze hadn't left her face. Dr Stark held his gaze, again thanking any God who existed she wasn't on this man's hit list.

"Danielle will be ok," Dr Stark said quietly eventually. "I will make sure that never happens again. I don't know if you heard me mention the security measures I have taken now, but trust me there is no way this can or will be repeated. As for finding out who bribed Baker, all our guards are going to keep careful watch and if anything remotely suspicious comes to light Dr Loomis and I will know immediately."

Dr Stark knew the guards would have tried to stop Myers, but in truth none of them really wanted to. Maybe that made them as corrupt as Baker in their own way, but what he'd done was totally sickening. Did that mean he deserved to die? Asked a quiet voice in her conscience but she shook it off. It was done now in any case. She had no doubt they would face investigation for it, but they had nothing to hide. The guards had tried to stop the killer, but with no success. It'd been a night shift, the guards from the other blocks hadn't been called. Shock, panic. Dr Stark wasn't worried about the official red tape.

She knew better than to play games with this man, so she just asked him straight. "Are you ok, Michael?"

The killer didn't move. Dr Stark didn't think she'd ever seen anyone sit or stand so still. But at the slightest urge or reason, he would and could spring into action and kill within seconds.

"Can I do anything for you? Get you anything?" She asked.

She couldn't hide her shock when for the first time, a message flashed up on the small screen on her side of the glass. To her knowledge, Myers had only ever written to Dr Loomis and that very rarely happened. She read the single sentence from the killer.

Coffee, then time.

Dr Stark nodded immediately, standing. She could hardly believe Michael Myers had messaged her. She understood the "time" reference too. Don't approach me or your blood may also be on my hands.

She left, heading into the patients canteen and grabbing Myers' coffee. Already she was wondering if she should tell Dr Loomis about this breakthrough. Not yet. This had to be between her and Myers or she'd lose whatever little trust she'd gained from him. Returning to the room, she slid open the small hatch in the glass and passed the killer his coffee. This time there was no mistaking it. As she slid the small hatch shut, he gave her a very slight nod. Of thanks?

"Do you want to be left alone for a few minutes?" She asked softly. Myers didn't move or respond in any way, which she took as a yes. "No problem," she said quietly. "Press the button under your desk when you're ready ok?" Quietly, she left the killer to his thoughts, whatever they were.

…

In spite of his situation, Derek Chancer woke up from a brief sleep feeling incredibly horny. God, he wanted to fuck then kill a woman. Any woman, he no longer cared. But first, he had to get out of this place, alive. He could hear Hayward's voice as she was led away by Joanne and Rick and wanted more than anything to cut off her waggling tongue. After he'd made her lick and suck his cock with it of course and swallow every drop of his cum. His cock hardened even further at that thought, so much so it was starting to hurt. Standing, he moved to his toilet where he had the most privacy. He didn't give a fuck who was watching him, but if he came all over the floor he'd be in trouble. He'd done it once already and that fucker Rick had told him he'd face solitary if he did it again. Damn Chancer wished he'd killed him that day.

Now he was imagining his cock buried in Hayward's tight pussy. She screams of pain because he was fucking her so hard. Then killing her in the most painful way possible. He thought of his extensive collection of tools. Gutting her, cutting her throat… With this image running through his mind, it wasn't long until he came with a quiet groan into his cell's metal toilet.