The Real Prophecy (Loomis' Mistake)

The Prophecy Fulfilled

Jen froze on her way out the door. "Wait a minute," she turned back to Loomis. "Samhain? This Samhain? Or the one of the fifth year?"

"Of the fifth year. Sorry, wasn't quite specific."

"But I thought that once the fifth year rolled around I didn't have to do this anymore."

"I certainly made it sound that way." he shook his head. "Well you see, this child would be the binding of the five years, if it wasn't born before that time you'd have to start all over again. Their prophecy of the perfect mother is totally false, made up by Wynn so they wouldn't kill whom he wanted to use, and it wasn't Jamie. Oh no, he wanted to get you for so long but Laurie hid you well. This child is really what will end the curse, you're lucky, you have nine months before it must be conceived."

She shook her head. "I'm not lucky, I'm pathetic. Look at where my life's gone? Bad to worse, Sam. I don't know how the hell I'm going to pull this off."

Loomis smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It will work if you love him."

Jen's soft eyes rested on her three boys, all playing with what they had gotten for Christmas 8 months ago. It was August of the fifth year, the past year and a half had been one big blur. Michael, now four and Adrian, almost three got along with Steven, 11, quite well. And all of them were excited about their coming little brother, due in two months.

Michael had been especially remote, ever since she had gotten pregnant. He rarely spent time with the boys like he used to, and often just sat in his little office. He ate after the rest of them did and slept on the couch, making it extremely difficult for her to maintain herself, she forced herself to eat through her depression and was awake at all hours.

She knew he didn't want to give the life he was so used to up, but what could she do? Unimpregnate herself? It wasn't possible, unless she were to purposely miscarry, which she could never do. She had already recognized the life within her, perhaps once his curse was ended he would warm up to her again, she had to believe that.

October was warm this year, and the 31st was no different. Her labor began in the morning and went all through the afternoon, the pain this time exceptionally bad, several ear piercing shrieks emitted through the air as Michael sat with the boys. Close to six in the evening Loomis emerged from the delivery room, a bloody, naked little boy in his arms. He was laughing like the typical grandfather would, and Michael examined the boy, completely healthy.

But his curse wasn't over, five years was at midnight, so after having seen the child, he went to stalk the halls for any intruders, as he had grown accustomed to doing after Michael was born and kidnaped. He didn't return til five til midnight, and he wasn't noticed as he stalked into Jenni's room, knife in hand.

Now particularly his curse was strong, it begged him to kill her and then all of the children. And he would. He moved to her bedside and sat, hiding the knife, wanting one final moment, careless of the clock. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Five years."

He scowled behind his mask and his hand with the knife twitched involuntarily. She sat up and looked at him, perplexed. "Michael? What is it?"

He couldn't stop himself now, 11:59 he plunged the knife into her stomach and the clock struck twelve. She gasped and breathed deeply, trying to get past the shock, just as every feeling that had been blocked from him surfaced. Shame, guilt, fear, love, hate... He looked at her and his heart gave an odd thump, she would die, there was no question, if she didn't get help and soon.

He knew better than to remove the blade, and knew she couldn't get the proper attention here, so he effortlessly ripped off the mask and lifted her, making a dead run outside to the nearest, unlocked vehicle with keys. He set her in the back gently and got in the drivers side, pulling out, ignoring the drivers enraged screams. Haddonfield Memorial Hospital wasn't too far.

Twenty minutes later the doors to HMH flung open, a man who appeared to be in his twenties ran in with a woman in his arms, a knife protruding from her stomach, the receptionist called a gurney in and some men got her onto it. A doctor came and they took her down the hall to Trauma Room 1, while the lady asked Michael for information.

"Sir? Sir?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's still a bit of a shock."

"Do you have a cold?"

"Hmm? Oh," he coughed. "Yes. Her name is..."

Meanwhile, he could hear the doctor asking the men pushing her stretcher what was happening. They brought her into the room.

The doctor pulled out a needle, sticking it into Jamie left arm. "Penetrating abdominal trauma. Massive blood loss. We've given her two units of O-negative stat and dextrin. BP is 100/60. Pulse 60. This girl's really been through hell, doc."

"How long has she been losing blood?"

"Only twenty minutes or so."

"Get two more units ready for her and get her on the table, we've got to get that thing out and get some blood in, stat!"

Will I kill her? Wont I kill her? Should I kill her? You shall see, you shall see.