Rites of Passage

Three

To be quite honest, Norma remembered nothing after her mother gave her aspirin for her headache. No. No, that was a lie. She did remember feeling light-headed and a little sick to her stomach. And her head hadn't stopped hurting. Then…nothing. It wasn't so bad.

Until the world came into focus again and she found herself standing in a dark corridor in her pink bunny nightgown, bare feet growing cold against the hard floor beneath her. There was something…wrong with this place. It looked like a normal building, but it was so…cold. It was bad. That was it.

Norma grasped handfuls of her nightgown, twisting them in her tiny fists. Above her, somewhere on the wall, she heard the sound of crying. She glanced up to find a large speaker, illuminated by a foggy glow from somewhere further up.

"Oh God, baby…"

Her mom. That was Mommy. Her face brightened and she began hopping up and down, eagerly, eyeing the speaker. But why was Mommy crying?

"I'm so sorry, Norma. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

Norma stopped jumping, frowning. What happened? Why wasn't Mommy with her?

"Norma."

The new voice startled her and she spun around, eyes wide, preparing herself to dart off in the opposite direction. Her mommy had always told her never to talk to strangers. They could hurt her and Norma didn't like being hurt.

"Norma, don't be frightened," the man smiled, gently, bending down before her. Normally, she would have found the man terrifying. He looked like that evil man she had seen on TV the night she snuck into the living room after she was supposed to be in bed. But instead, she wanted to run into his arms and let him take her somewhere safe. "I'm here to help you."

"I wanna see Mommy," she answered, backing away from him.

"You can't. Not yet. Right now, I need you to do something for me. Can you do that?" he questioned, still kneeling before her. Norma nodded, slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. "Do you see that light behind you?"

She turned, indeed seeing the bright white light sliding through the corridor.

"Uh-huh," she nodded again, vigorously, facing the man again.

"Don't go to it."

"But…" she furrowed her brow, taking another step back towards the light where she began to hear soft voices. She didn't like this man anymore. The light behind her was warm, it was nice. Nothing like the dark corridor. "But I'm supposed to go back there. I'm supposed to."

"No, you're not, Norma. Trust me," he held out a hand to her, raising both eyebrows. "Do you trust me?"

"What's your name?" she questioned, stepping towards him, cautiously.

"Anubis."

"Ah-noo…Ah-noo-bus?" Norma crinkled her nose as she tried the name out.

"That's right," he stayed motionless, hand still outstretched to the young girl. "Norma?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she glanced back at the light again, struggling to resist the urge to turn around and run into it. Mommy's voice was here, not in the light.

"I'm not a stranger. I'm here to help you," he answered. She swallowed hard, frozen to the spot, hating the coldness beneath her bare feet.

And without another thought, she ran into the man's arms, allowing him to lift her up as he stood to his own feet.

"Where're we going?" she began toying with the his hair as he walked down the corridor.

"Back."

After everything he'd gone through earlier that day, Hook was not surprised when he collapsed onto one of the empty beds on the neurosurgery floor, half on half off the bed, still in his coat. Last he heard of Norma, she was still hanging on, even after the plug had been pulled. Ms. Trujillo was still waiting by her bedside, praying, singing and speaking to her daughter. Some part of him, a part buried deep inside, wished the little girl would just let go. It would be easier on everyone in the long run.

In the past three days since everything had changed, he had barely given a thought to the ordeal they had all gone through. At first, they'd all believed everything had gone well. The children had been saved, Mary had founded the hospital. But as they found out, day after day, everything had, in fact, changed. Hook had had to look through his own records to find his new address. Elmer was suddenly a resident rather than a med student, which caused quite a few problems due to his overall inexperience. And then this damned storm.

"Open your eyes, doctor, the tired look is unbecoming of you."

Hook's eyes snapped open, his entire body jolting.

"Oh…you have got to be kidding me," he found himself muttering. He hadn't expected to awaken anywhere. But if he had, he was fairly sure it wouldn't be in the same dark corridors with their eery lighting that he had hoped to have been rid of less then one week earlier.

"You should know by now, Dr. Hook; I don't kid," a familiar voice answered from behind him. He spun around to find himself face-to-face with the Egyptian god in the same form he had appeared to them the last time he'd been in this corridor. "You see me in this form because it's familiar to you. And it's less threatening than an enormous anteater."

"Good to know," Hook squeezed out, glancing around, nervously.

"It's empty. No one else is here. Not yet, at least," Anubis assured him, never moving from his spot. For that, Hook was grateful. He suddenly found himself very protective of his personal space. "You've noticed things are changing. They're wrong."

"I've given it a fleeting thought, yes," he nodded, slowly, head still turned over his shoulder, slightly. Anubis gave a small, wry smile, taking a few steps towards the doctor.

"And you know that this storm is not a coincidence. It's not an act of nature."

"Everyone knows that," Hook answered, eyeing the creature standing before him, nervously. "I thought we fixed everything. We saved the children; we cancelled out that doctor and his assistant. Wasn't that what we were supposed to do?"

"You were. But think about it, Hook: they died. They shouldn't have been able to speak to you or Peter Rickman or Dr. Stegman in the first place. Rules don't apply here."

Hook cocked his head to the side, finding himself both intrigued and sickened by the direction the conversation was taking. "So…what do I do? Why am I here?"

"You're the only one who will admit to themselves that things are different. You get chills when the entire hospital is heated to 80 degrees. You look over your shoulder when you feel someone is watching you and you don't write it off as paranoia when no one is there," Anubis stepped closer to him, now no more than one foot away from Hook. "You're not crazy, Hook. There is someone watching you. And if you don't find out who it is, and soon, what happened last week will be kid stuff compared to what's in store in this new world."

He woke with a start, falling off of the bed and landing on the tile floor on his stomach.

And he had no reason to question the dream as a cold chill slid over him.

Hook stood, hurrying to the nearest bathroom and emptying his stomach into the toilet.

"Jesus Christ, you again?" Jakob eyed his younger sister with a disdainful eye as she made her way into the hospital room.

"Oh, shut up and go back to sleep," Elisabeth rolled her eyes, sitting in the chair beside his bed, pulling a book from her purse.

"Can't I have you banned from my room?" Jakob questioned, crossing his arms across his chest. Ignoring his question, Elisabeth opened her book, searching for her place.

"Aunt Judy called earlier. She asked how you were doing and if there was anything she could do to help," she muttered, beginning to read.

"Send over some money," he shot, leaning off of the bed and eyeing her book. "What the hell are you reading?"

"The Complete Works of Sir Arthur Malory," she answered, simply. Jakob crinkled his nose, sitting back in the bed.

"You're so weird," the room fell silent as Elisabeth became immersed in her book and Jakob began whistling, staring up at the ceiling. After a long moment, he reached over, snatching the book from her. "You're such a selfish bitch."

"Jake, give me my book back," she struggled to stay calm, watching as he skimmed through the pages.

"What the hell is this, you can't even understand it. What's a k-y-n-g-e?" before Elisabeth could take the book back, Jakob proceeded to tear the pages from it, letting them flutter to the floor.

"What are you doing? Stop it! Jakob, stop it!" she cried, reaching for the book. With a sudden burst of anger, Jakob threw the rest of the tattered book across the room.

"Why would you come in here to read a damn book?" he shouted, chuckling when he saw Elisabeth bend down, picking up the pieces of her book. "From now on, when you come in my room, you don't bring in any of that stupid shit."

She stood, clutching the ruins to her chest and glaring at the man who had once been the same person who defended her against bullies in high school. Had held her while they both cried upon hearing the news of their parents. Without a word, she hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She seemed to be doing that quite a bit lately.

You shouldn't have to put up with that, you know.

Elisabeth furrowed her brow, whipping her head around, trying to find the source of the voice entering her mind. When she found no one, she shook her head, making her way through the corridor and toward the stairs. What she needed was a lunch. That would settle her nerves and possibly stop the shaking.

He's being a selfish bastard. He doesn't deserve any help.

"I'm going insane," she muttered to herself, nearly dropping her book as she pushed the door to the stairway open.

"What he deserves is a nice dirt nap."

Elisabeth stumbled, catching herself against the railing and letting the tatters fall onto the stairs. At the top of the next set of stairs stood a boy, an eery grin on his face, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Don't you agree?" he cocked his head to the side and Elisabeth found herself backing up towards the door, tripping over her own feet. "What'sa matter, Elisabeth? Did I scare ya?"

She stared up at the young man, unable to find any words. Something was wrong with this kid. Really wrong. And she refused to voice the fears she held over his odd appearance.

"You know you want to. It's been on your mind ever since he came to and started puttin' you down like all those kids in high school," the boy took a step down, chuckling. "You were a loser back then and you wanted to forget. You never thought your brother'd be the one to bring it up again. News flash, Beth-"

He took a few more steps down, unclenching and clenching his fists. "You're still that same loser. You just don't wanna admit it."

"Who the hell are you?" she managed to squeeze out, her nails scratching the floor on either side of her body.

"Just think of me as…a scapegoat. When it comes down to it, just blame me," he answered, taking the last steps to her level and circling around, nearly kicking her shoe before he made his way down the next set of steps, his shape becoming misty before turning once more out of sight.

It took her nearly five minutes to regain her composure and make her way down to the dining room. Though the boy's words remained in her mind.

Because the idea of Jakob dying sounded to appealing for Elisabeth to admit.

Elmer had not slept well in the past three days. He had expected to be sleeping like a baby after the ordeal they had gone through. Instead, he was lucky to get three solid hours of sleep a night.

This night had been the exception.

Shortly after having a rather pointless conversation with Lona (complete with excessive flirting, he didn't mind mentioning), he'd wandered off towards another patient's room, inspecting their vitals and making his way to one of the empty temporary doctors' rooms, collapsing onto the bed almost the minute he took his coat off and curled up onto the mattress.

At first, he'd thought the voices belonged to other doctors who had come into the room after their shifts. After all, he hadn't slept too deeply lately. Then, slowly, everything came into focus, the dull colours entering his vision and shapes beginning to show themselves. And he did not like what he saw.

It took him a moment to recognise the elderly doctor from the séance, his wrinkled, breaking skin stretching and protesting with each muscle twitch. The boy, however, sent his skin crawling almost immediately; black eyes and lips stark against the sickly pale tone to his skin. They were arguing across a medical table, its bright metallic glint dulled by blood stains and spots of gore. The doctor held some sort of instruments in his hands, looking as though he had just finished mauling the body spread out on the table.

"And what use is she to us?" the doctor questioned, angrily, waving the instruments in the air, splattering red-brown blood on both he and the boy.

"Nothing. But she can get them scared. Get 'em running if she tells the right people. We can use it to work for us," the boy answered, clenching his teeth as he did.

"I told you not to fool around with the mortals, Paul. I told you. I ordered you, you idiot. We have to wait for the right time. That's where we went wrong last time. We can not make that same mistake," the doctor shouted, going back to the body, prodding its useless innards.

"But it's getting closer. If we wait any longer, it'll be finished and we'll be gone," Paul shot, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched the doctor working.

You need to see this, Elmer. You need to see his patient.

Without hesitation, Elmer quietly made his way around to get a better view of the body. Paul stepped to the side, slightly, obscuring his view of the face, though now he could see it was a woman from the limp, gender-specific bits.

"Leave it alone. We don't need you causing any hysteria right now," the doctor muttered. "Get me my things, would you?"

Paul reached to the left, grasping an old leather bag andgiving Elmer the perfect view of the face in the process.

He awoke screaming, drenched in sweat, the protests of other doctors invading his semi-conscious state.

It would be the last time he slept well for weeks.