Chapter Eleven

Everything around him was a blur. Colors ran together. Sounds from just outside seemed faraway and distant. Even the comforting fabric beneath him seemed wholly different in this moment. Still, the Brookhaven doctor managed to keep his thoughts grounded as he sat in his office.

Receiving yet another misspelled note the day before had left him feeling completely lost. Sinking into his leather bound chair, he had stared at Dana's picture and the scrawled message for nearly an hour, not quite certain how to handle it; or even if he could. Finally he had given up though, and left early for the day.

The comforts of home hadn't been helpful either. Janice was found in their home office, going over some materials for the next week's class schedule. When he had found her Lewis was hoping for a sympathetic ear and the caring embrace only found in her arms. Instead an argument had broken out; over what he couldn't remember. All he knew was that it had been a heated one, leaving him on the couch for the night. Despite the result it was something he felt shouldn't be such a surprise to him. After all, this pattern was happening more and more frequently as time waned on.

Now he sat here, in his office, unable to focus on anything. His mind just felt as though it were made of clay, and no matter how hard he tried he simply could not get anything concrete from it.

Instantly his lack of rest provided by the rigid sofa sprung to mind as the reason that he felt so out of touch this morning. As his mind drew itself to this reason, his hand was drawn to something else that awaited his attention on the desk. Carefully he wrapped a few fingers around the handle of the ceramic mug, drawing it ever closer to his lips.

When his lips touched the mug's rim, he instinctively cringed at the liquid's burning taste. From within his mind was a voice that had urged against this indulgence, knowing how quickly things could spiral from partaking in it. That voice was one he had quickly silenced though on this brisk September morning. Too many things had brought him into misery in the past day for him to not have at least a few moments with his old friend. Ultimately though, he didn't really care.

Placing his concerns in regard to the drink aside, Lewis had to admit the toll it was taking on him. Forced to sit in a stupor couldn't so easily be explained away. The amber liquid had to be responsible for at least part of this result, even if he felt that other causes surely factored in as well.

This thought left him to return his mug to the desk, before vigorously rubbing his eyes. Whether it was alcohol or fatigue that left him so drained was ultimately unimportant. What was important was how he was to use the time he had here at Brookhaven. He was a psychologist, and it was time that he did something productive in that respect.

Still, thoughts of work only drew him to one topic: Dana. Enough time had been spent worrying about her already, but now that he had received a strange note in regard to her then that concern had quickly multiplied. Before leaving the previous day Lewis had felt the need to call Alchemilla, to be certain that Dana was indeed all right. Several assurances had been given by one of the hospital's nurses, causing him to at best appear foolish in his frantic concerns.

If only the nurse had known the full scope of what was terrorizing his life, then maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to brush him aside. Lewis couldn't blame her though. No one really knew what was going on. Honestly, not even he knew. All he did know was that his sanity had given up on trying to sort anything out.

Letting his gaze fall from the pockmarked ceiling above, the doctor shifted in his seat until a cluttered desk once again enveloped his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the latest piece that somehow fit into the nightmarish puzzle that had forced itself upon him. Of course, he could only assume that what was going on was a puzzle, and that everything by default was somehow connected. Even this resounding detail was something that he couldn't be one-hundred percent on, though as he went over everything then he knew in his gut that they had to work in conjunction with each other somehow.

The only way he would ever be certain about anything was if he put in the effort to figure things out, no matter how much his mind feared such a thing. In regards to Dana's picture that had somehow been faxed to him, he had decided to go backward in time to the nearly identical thing that had begun his descent into insanity. There was no mistaking the misspelled words accompanying Dana's horrifying picture, as he knew its author had passed along a work to him already.

Before his friend Randy had left to do some work in Brahms, he had aided the troubled doctor in sorting out the first misspelled note's origin. This knowledge had in turn brought about his fateful encounter with Christian Leiters, a man to whom so little was known. While there was not a vast wealth of information about Christian, as some of the other patients in Brookhaven were attributed, there was still enough for one to be left outside the shadows of his vague past.

Because of this information, Lewis had made sure to stop by the reception station the moment he had entered the hospital's chilling walls earlier in the morning. Leslie had given him another odd look as he once again requested Christian's file, but he knew her confusion would quickly be washed away seconds after resuming her work. Unlike before, Lewis wasn't content to merely stand there as he scanned the file for a few key bits. If he was to gain any understanding as to why Christian had sent him another chilling note then he would have to delve deeper into the man's past.

Rereading the events leading up to his incarceration by the Silent Hill police department didn't help to reveal anything new to the doctor. Nor was anything helpful found in the following three years in which he had been a resident at Brookhaven. Still, Lewis continued to examine every word, knowing that somewhere tucked between some useless fact lay a clue as to who this man really was, and why he had chosen Lewis to torment.

The vague fragments of Christian's childhood that Lewis had skipped over before now acted as his starting point, as the doctor couldn't help but to wonder if something had occurred long ago that now served as the root cause of his psychosis. Unfortunately, the details about Christian at any age were sparse, leaving Dr. Lewis with little to draw from.

Nothing about the early years of the man's life seemed remarkable. From the police's background check, it had been discovered that he had grown up in the nearby town of Ashfield. His mother had passed away at a young age, and this loss had driven Christian's father deep into his career; leaving the young boy to fend for himself. Still, he had managed to project a normal image for several years.

Tucked in with the police report was a letter from a Mrs. Whitfield, who had been a teacher of Christian's. Responding to the Silent Hill police's check on the man, she had written that Christian had always been an active student with a strong sense of conviction, and that he had always kept his home life to himself. So much so in fact, that for most of the time she knew him she was unaware of the situation concerning his parents.

When he had entered high school, Christian had begun to change drastically. Of course, many young adults change during this period of their life, but he had become much more withdrawn than typical. Not long after he begun high school, one day he just walked out of the building and was not heard of for more than a decade. Apparently having run away from home, there had been no search for him. Not even by his father. By this point in his young life, nobody cared about Christian or what was becoming of him.

The next fact about his life came when some local hunters had found him naked near Toluca Lake. Instead of taking him to a hospital, or trying to sort out what was really beneath the surface of this man, the group had merely dumped him off at the police station; where he remained ignored for several months.

Going over this, Lewis felt the need to pause and wonder how the man had ended up in the woods. If indeed he had spent thirteen years of his life living near the lake then someone would have spotted him long before they did. Especially considering what the man would need to do in order to survive the elements. Surely there had to be something else to fill in this span of time and explain where he had been. Unfortunately with Christian once again in the isolation ward, then Lewis was hardly able to ask the man about this missing time.

Something suddenly struck Lewis as he realized that he had never been given a reason as to why Christian had been placed in isolation. In discussing the man with his friend, Randy had never mentioned why, only that he had spent the past few months there and was cutoff from the rest of the world. Having something new about Christian confuse him, Lewis began flipping through the pages of his file, looking for any word that might serve as a clue.

On one of the last pages in his file was a brief incident typed on Brookhaven letterhead. Following his placement at the hospital, he had shared an M level room with an older patient named Rick Felkes, who suffered from extreme paranoia. For more than two years these men shared an existence within the cramped patient room, having little to do with each other. Then one day things changed.

Typed across the sheet before Lewis was a nurse's account of what she had witnessed. Entering the room to give Rick his daily medication, she had found him tucked behind his bed clutching a plastic knife. Trying to calm him down for several moments only caused the situation to worsen, before Rick finally tried to slit his own throat with the utensil. Being that it was plastic though left the man with nothing but a mild skin irritation across his neck. A pair of orderlies stepped in at this point, dragging the man from the room.

Rick hadn't gone easily though, as the whole time he had been kicking and screaming, repeating over and over "He's coming after me! Christian said so!" Searching the room had revealed a small pile of the antipsychotic pills that had been prescribed to him, as well as a roommate that did nothing but smile at the older patient's misfortune.

While those running Brookhaven decided what should be done with the man, Randy had been forced into questioning him, to try and sort out what had really occurred. Having been Christian's assigned psychologist left the man's actions squarely on Randy's shoulder, and placed Lewis' friend into a place no doctor ever wanted to be.

According to the attached report from the young doctor, there was no sign of remorse or regret from Christian as he was asked to explain himself. Spending such a length of time with Rick as his roommate, those involved with the case were confused as to why he had chosen that moment to push the fragile man over the edge. The only response that Christian had given was "because he could."

Reading these words sent a chill down Lewis' spine. Nothing about this man sat well in the doctor's stomach. Whether he saw it from the man directly or merely read about it on paper, the same frightening effect came from Christian's actions.

Flipping back through the man's entire file, Dr. Lewis scanned once more for something resolute as to what connection he might have with Cassie. The young girl had to be connected to him somehow, for it was her death that acted as a doorway for him to enter Lewis' life. Not a single printed word seemed to shed any light on a connection though.

But there had to be something. Randy had been right about Christian being locked away in isolation during Cassie's stay and murder at Brookhaven. Being locked away from everything, how could he have known about her? More than that, how could he have gotten the scrawled note to him if he had indeed been locked away and kept under guard?

If these questions hadn't been enough, there was now an entirely new reason to bring this man into question. The note in regards to Dana was unmistakably identical to the previous one concerning Cassie. Unlike Cassie's murder though, the suicide attempt from Dana had not been a galvanizing topic around the water cooler. Very few discussed it, and even then they kept it to a brief stating of facts and sharing of concerns. So how could Christian have known?

Ever since their last encounter when Lewis had attacked the man, he had been locked back in isolation until it was deemed safe to return him back to a normal patient room, and back to the rest of Brookhaven's population. With him once again locked away, there was no conceivable way that he could have heard about Dana's suicide attempt, nor was it possible for him to gain access to any paper to write his message down. Thinking about how he had received the latest note only further confused Dr. Lewis, as another icy chill ran down his spine.

Failing to find anything to make sense of things, Lewis' head fell into his hands. The daily routines that he had once enjoyed here at Brookhaven were now nothing more than a perverse way to torment his soul. There were just too many questions, too many dead ends, too many unexplainable matters for his mind to cope with. It was simply becoming too hard to keep what small fragments of sanity he had left together, and as the reality of what was happening bore down on him, he nearly wept.

The only noise that came was a slight whimper, before the room finally grew silent.

Hearing this strange noise forced Lewis to shoot up in his chair. Darting his eyes around the room, the doctor made certain that he was indeed alone in his office. If there was no one else though, then where had the abrupt noise come from?

A host of noises were known to take residence in the old mental hospital, and the doctor's brain rested on the assumption that one of these causes had grabbed his attention in this instance. That was, if there had indeed been a noise at all. Being so tired and out of it could have caused him to imagine the whole thing. Leaning back into his chair, he started to accept this and tried to relax, before something odd beckoned to his attention once more.

Upon his computer screen there was an odd pattern. Dotted across it were small beads of color, and he wondered what was wrong. Reaching towards the monitor he touched a few of the beads, realizing that they had substance and were not some electronic abnormality. Wetness was the first thought that entered his mind as he pulled his hand away and gazed at the spots that now covered his fingertips. Rubbing his index and thumb together he tried to discern what the droplets were, only to have his eyes widen in sheer terror when he realized.

Panic flooded through his mind as he instinctively wiped his hand onto his white overcoat. Smearing redness over the bleached white caused Lewis to panic even more, as he became worried someone would discover the stain. If it was discovered, then Lewis knew he would find himself in a very awkward position.

Quickly though such concerns were brushed aside as his gaze moved from the stained clothing back to the blood's source. Staring at his computer monitor only one thing ran through his mind; where had the blood come from? There was no obvious answer. Nor was there an apparent reason that it now speckled his computer screen, leaving everything nearby void of any trace.

Lewis knew that this couldn't have appeared without cause. After analyzing Christian's original note, it had been determined that blood was used in its creation. Seeing blood here again had to in someway connect back to that note, and its mentally unbalanced author. The longer that Dr. Lewis focused on the situation then the less sense it made. Flooding his ears came the sound of his own thumping heart as terror in regards to the matter threatened to overwhelm him.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Louder and louder the resounding noise flooded his conscious mind, consuming his full attention. Focused solely on this, any thoughts outside of this moment dissolved away as his entire world became his heartbeat and the event that had caused it to suddenly be so erratic. Breathing in slowly Lewis worked to calm down, yet the noise grew louder. It was as if it had a will of its own, a will made to deny the doctor's attempts to quell it. For a moment the question of why his attempts to calm his heart remained futile swam through his head, until Lewis realized that the sound was not the beating of his heart, but was in fact a steady knock on his office's door frame.

Pulling his attention away from the computer monitor when he realized the origin of this latest disturbance, his eyes rested on the familiar dark haired nurse. "What do you want, Michelle?" he asked with a panicked tone and terrified eyes.

"Good morning, Dr. Lewis," she replied with her usual smile. Looking across the room at the doctor's face she instantly could tell something was wrong. Changing her positive demeanor she asked, "What is wrong?" in a concerned voice.

A drop of sweat rolled down the side of Lewis' face as this question was asked of him. There were so many ways that he could answer this simple matter, though whether or not any of those responses made sense were things that not even he knew. Still, he felt as though he needed to try somehow to let this girl know what had forced him into such a state. "On my computer screen here is…" but he was unable to finish, as another chill was sent down his spine the moment he returned his gaze to the glowing monitor.

His computer's monitor sat there completely clean. There was not a single drop of blood, nor was there any hint that there had ever been one. Suddenly seeing the computer screen without any crimson traces made Lewis feel almost as frightened as the moment he had first taken the sight of the blood in. Cautiously, his fingers brushed the screen, making certain that what was before him was real.

When he realized that the blood had indeed vanished from his computer screen, something else struck him. Frantically pushing away from the machine, he began searching his white coat. Pulling and twisting it around his sagging body he became desperate in his pursuit of any sign that stained blood remained on the garment. Like the screen from where the blood had come, the bleached white clung to his body mockingly spotless.

Taking a step into the doctor's office came the young girl as her concern for the man before her began to mount. "Dr. Lewis?" was her response as she watched the man wildly writhe in his chair, for reasons that she could only guess at.

Abruptly Lewis decided to stop in his search as it became obvious that he would find nothing to back up his claim that seconds ago a frightening world had enveloped him. And why should he? Between blood written notes and assaults from the unexplainable, then where was there room in his life for anything remotely sane? Resigning to this fact, all that Lewis could do was slump in his chair defeated.

Slipping into a half conscious daze, Lewis completely forgot the presence of the young intern. Standing there in wait for an explanation, not a sound came from Michelle. While she may not have known what was currently happening to the doctor before her, it was a curiosity that she ultimately had to forgo. Her coming to Lewis now had been for a purpose, a purpose that she was determined to fulfill.

Carefully Michelle crossed the carpeted floor to where Lewis slumped at his desk. Unsure of how to rouse him from this state, she decided to simply clear her throat, hoping that it would in some way pull him back into reality. When this subtle action failed, then she warmly spoke "Excuse me, Dr. Lewis?"

In the moments following his resignation then Dr. Lewis' mind drifted off. Nothing of his surroundings mattered anymore. Not the computer monitor, nor the young woman who anxiously stood across from him. If life was going to play such cruel games with his sanity then what else could he do but refuse in playing them? Despite this sudden desire to hide away in his own private world, it quickly became apparent that he wouldn't be allowed such a luxury, as Michelle's voice drew him back to reality.

Staring at the young woman, he couldn't help but to wonder what had brought her back into his presence again. There was something expectant flickering in her eyes, and all he could think to do was ask her what it was that she wanted as he struggled to keep his emotions balanced.

"I'm working on a project," came her words as a smile returned to her supple face, "and I need your help on it."

Lewis couldn't help but to ask himself how he could possibly help this girl. In days gone by he had always been eager to assist anyone that was in need. Now though, he merely wanted the chance at some solitude and to be kept as far away from work as possible. "Help with what?" the doctor asked Michelle, trying to keep his sentiments over the matter hidden away.

Pulling a small device from out of the shadows and into view, Michelle continued on by saying "I'm making a scrapbook of Brookhaven. You know, just a few pictures of what life is like being an intern here, and I would really love it if I could take a picture of you for it."

Letting out a grim sigh, the doctor started to object. Of all the things that he wished to do at the moment, getting his picture taken was hardly near the top of this list. Before he could say anything though, Michelle began shifting her way around the older man's wooden desk.

"Alright, now smile," followed her maneuvering as she leaned onto Dr. Lewis and held the camera before them. A heartbeat later there was a blinding flash as the camera captured the moment on film. "Thank you so much," spoke the young woman again as she took a step away from the doctor.

A whirring noise was made as the camera's workings developed the picture and spit out a blank white square. Taking it, Michelle began to wave it around a bit, making the comment "I've always loved these old fashioned cameras. There's no fuss with having to send the pictures out to be developed, or any of that confusing programming involved with those digital ones."

Slowly an image began to take shape on the flimsy square, and as Lewis watched Michelle shake the photo then he hoped that her business with him was done. He just had too many things that needed his attention at the moment to be bothered by this young woman. Not anything that might be related to his work per se, but he knew that some progress had to be made in regards to Christian and the note, so that he might finally be granted a pause from the numbing horrors around him.

"Ah, here we go!" Suddenly Michelle stopped in her movements, only to scrunch her nose as she stared at the photo. "Well, it's not the best picture ever, but it'll work. Here," she added as she offered it to Lewis.

For obvious reasons Lewis had no desire to look at himself through the camera's lens, yet he found his hand gripping it anyway. The image showed him two people, who from appearances seemed as different as can be: Michelle, young and jubilant, and himself, aged and sullen. His expression in the photo reflected how he felt both emotionally and mentally precisely, yet still he found the depressing look to be a surprise.

Once the doctor had handed back the photo, then Michelle moved her way back around his desk, never once taking her eyes off of him. "Is something bothering you, Dr. Lewis?" she finally decided to ask.

Jarring him from his own self pity all of Lewis' attention clung to this question, as though it had longed for someone to ask it. In truth it had been asked before, several times in fact, as seemingly everyone at Brookhaven had suddenly grown concerned for his well being. "I'm fine, Michelle," he quickly lied. Whether the lie was for her benefit or for his own he couldn't be sure of.

Michelle was hardly about to be satisfied by this simple response. Just a glance of the doctor's face revealed the fragile state he was in, and she was not about to let him continue in this manner alone in his office. "It's okay," she softly spoke. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me what's wrong."

Afraid? Both the word and the implication it made were things that didn't sit well with Lewis. Fear was something that he had always believed he had known about. However, everything about his life since Cassie's death had pushed his definition of fear to its limits, resulting in many things to cause him to be afraid. Talking to this young woman though was not one of them.

"Don't you have some work to do?" he couldn't help but to ask, hoping the question would prompt her to leave him in solitude once more.

"My shift doesn't start for another half hour," pleasantly replied Michelle. Easing into the seat across from him she merely stared, urging him to go on with as gentle of a smile as she could wear.

As before, Lewis found his hand caressing his face, as Michelle's refusal to leave brought a newfound trouble into his life. "It's just…" he began, but suddenly held his tongue. Several people at Brookhaven had already lost their respect for him due to his handling of Cassie's death. The last thing he needed was to lose whatever admiration that he had apparently earned from the young woman across from him, nor did he feel that he had the right to pull her into the bizarre world that had somehow become his life.

Despite his misgivings, part of Lewis felt like telling her what was going on. This part had grown weary of shouldering the burden of his life alone, and knew that by retelling recent events to Michelle then he might have some of that burden lifted. Looking across at her, across into her piecing emerald eyes, then he felt the last barriers in his mind crumble away.

"Go on," Michelle urged after a few moments of silence, never once letting her caring smile fade from her young face.

"Do you remember when we first met, Michelle? After Christian attacked me, I mean?" It was an obvious question, yet she still nodded in answer. "Well, there was a reason that I had gone to see him. A reason other than what I officially told."

From this statement Lewis expected some concern to come from Michelle. As a new member of Brookhaven's staff, one at an impressionable young age, then he assumed she would grow uncomfortable in learning that he had stepped outside the lines of protocol. Instead though, she just continued to listen intently, unaffected by his admission.

"A couple of months ago a young girl was brought here to Brookhaven by the police. Her name was Cassie, and I was assigned her case." Suddenly the doctor stopped himself on this fact. Of course Michelle knew what had happened in regards to the wiry young patient; everyone in Silent Hill did. "But then again, you already know this part of the story," he couldn't help but to say.

"No, go on. What happened to Cassie?" Nothing changed about Michelle as she asked this.

For only a moment Dr. Lewis' mind wondered how she could have remained oblivious to the young girl's much publicized murder, before he shrugged the feeling off and continued on.

"According to the police, they had found her rummaging through an alley garbage dumpster, and was uncooperative when they tried to sort the incident out. When she finally did speak to the police, then what she had said caused them to send her here to Brookhaven for treatment."

There was a long pause as Lewis slipped back to that fateful day when Cassie had been brought in. Nothing had seemed remarkable about her, and up until he had been called back to the hospital then he had believed her to be just another textbook challenge to overcome. "And then she was murdered," he coldly blurted.

"Murdered?" the young intern couldn't help to ask, a touch of curiosity mixing into her cheerful manner.

"Actually, it has never been declared an official murder," Lewis had to admit. "How she could have been killed remains a mystery, but I've never known someone to carve out their own stomach as a means of suicide."

Her stomach had been turned into a gaping wound, as though she had been skewered by some object.

Having the horrific scene flash in his mind caused Lewis to stumble in his words and reach for his mug of alcohol. Without hesitation he downed some, believing the drink was the only way for his mind to cope with the mental image of Cassie's body.

"I see," was Michelle's toneless reply. "But what does that have to do with Christian?"

Breathing in deeply, there was an odd calm that washed over Lewis. He could feel his heartbeat settle to its normal pace and the sweat on his brow begin to dry. Before he could answer the young intern's question, then Lewis knew he had to retrieve the original note that had started his descent into where he now found himself.

Pulling his eyes away from Michelle's soft face Lewis' eyes wandered down a series of desk drawers, until they rested on the bottom one. Cautiously his fingers gripped the brass handle, pulling it open. Lewis knew full well what was lying in wait within the wooden drawer, and in knowing about it left part of his being to beg that he close it and forget the matter altogether. If he was going to have Michelle fully understand the state that he now found himself in then he knew she had to be shown every piece that he had so far collected; including this one.

A manilla file folder rested on top of a stack of papers within the desk, and it was this folder that he uneasily grabbed. Slamming the drawer shut, a shiver ran down Lewis' spine as he placed the folder on his desk. Unconsciously he opened the folder, took the crumpled note in his hand, and slid it across the desk to Michelle; the whole while keeping his eyes fixed on the girl's expectant face and as far from the misspelled note as possible.

Moving her gaze off of the doctor and onto what he had placed before her, Michelle settled a hand on it and began to study the few words scrawled across it.

Even as Michelle moved to examine the note more closely, the middle-aged doctor kept his eyes focused on her. Light cast by the room's fluorescent bulbs made her silky black hair appear to glow. This effect was not reserved solely for her dark strands, as there was an enticing quality to her skin as well. The hue splashed across her divine and supple flesh was something not easily ignored. From her face which framed those dazzling eyes and delicately glistening lips, to the gentle rise and fall of her chest, Lewis' attention was drawn more intently as his eyes wandered. Each subtle curve of her body caused the bleached white uniform to become taut as it hugged her nubile figure; leaving only the anticipation of what lay underneath to rest in one's mind.

"Dr. Lewis?" suddenly came a voice.

Ripping Lewis away from his thoughts was the soft calling of his name, and as he fell back into the world around him he suddenly found Michelle to be staring at him in wait. Seeing her eyes with his own caused an uncomfortable sense to rest in Lewis' being, a sense that was only eased as he took another bitter sip from his mug.

"Did Christian write this note?" the young girl asked with genuine curiosity, believing that getting Lewis' mind back on track would be the best way to resolve the distress that was so apparent in him.

Making sure to push the crumpled note away from his field of vision, the psychologist sat there and thought back to his discussion with his friend in regards to the note. "Yes he did," he muttered.

"But why?"

"Why did Christian write the note?" For some reason Lewis felt the need to repeat this aloud. It was a question that had been screaming in the back of his skull since the moment he had discovered that this man was the note's author. Despite going and asking the man this very question on two occasions though, he was left to sit here and continue to wonder. "I don't know," was his simple reply.

Though Lewis had pushed the misspelled note aside, it was hardly out of the young girl's thoughts. Looking over the note again, making sure to take in every subtle facet it offered, she continued to try and sort out in her mind some reasoning behind it.

The fact that Michelle was searching for an answer in her mind was something not lost upon Dr. Lewis, as her features changed in response to this new line of thought. "The real mystery isn't why he wrote it," Lewis broke into her thoughts with "but how." Accompanying this statement was Lewis' hand as it turned Christian's open patient folder around and slid this forward in the same fashion as the crumpled note.

With something new to envelop the intern's attention, Lewis' pushed himself back into his chair's leather recesses and slowly let his eyelids fall where they may. This action was a necessity for him, as he didn't want to find his eyes transfixed again by Michelle's barely adult form.

Reading over the patient's recent history here at Brookhaven began to form an understanding within the intern's mind. "How did he manage to get it to you from inside his isolation cell?"

"Exactly," the doctor said as he swiveled his chair back around so that he was once again face to face with Michelle. Opening his eyes and taking in the young girl's face, a face that remained largely unchanged despite what she had just discovered, he couldn't help but to feel as though someone was finally beginning to understand just what was occurring in his life.

"I've worked in the isolation wing before," Michelle continued on, "and there is no way that he could have gotten his hands on the paper to write the note, much less the red ink he used to write it."

"Blood," Lewis suddenly cut in. "He used blood to write the note."

This disturbing fact was something the Lewis felt should illicit an entirely new reaction from the girl, as it had from everyone else that had learned it. For some reason though, her appearance remained unaffected as she stared back at him.

"So this note is the real reason why you went and talked with him, not to help out Dr. Sampson?" The question lingered in the air before Lewis gave a confirming nod. "What did he say?" Michelle further pressed.

Rubbing his eyes and leaving his hand on his face Lewis tried to remember what exactly it was that the man had said. Once a few more heartbeats passed then all the doctor replied with was "He claimed that it was a warning, but that he didn't write it."

Continuing with her cheery presence Michelle took this in and let her mind think it over. An obvious question sprung to mind as she had to ask "You're sure that he wrote it?"

There was a thud as the psychologist's hand fell from its resting spot on his face to land on the oak desk. When the young woman had asked this question then suddenly he felt all of her understanding in the matter to be slipping away. A stark expression came from Lewis' face as he stared back at Michelle, making certain that she understood his next words.

"Yes, I am sure. Every fiber in my being is sure. He wrote that note."

"I see," was the intern's only response as she propped her head onto his desk with her arm.

"No, you don't." An uncomfortable atmosphere set into place following this comment. Stuck in that atmosphere remained the two, until Lewis broke the stillness by passing a third clue across the desk to Michelle. "This was faxed to me yesterday."

Seeing the scrawled words written in the same fashion should have triggered something within Michelle, but if it did then these were things that Lewis remained ignorant of. Only the young woman's eyes moved as she went over the terrifying photo of Dana and the accompanying message. Nothing else about her changed.

Instead of making any kind of helpful gesture, the only thing that came from her was "Oh, did she try to commit suicide?" in a toneless voice.

Bringing this question up caused anger to boil inside of Lewis; even more so then when Michelle had questioned his judgment about Christian being the note's author. "That's not the point!" he yelled as he rose from his chair. Such a force came from this action that the leather chair was almost knocked over, pulling Michelle's attention away from the second note and back onto Lewis. "Christian is still in isolation, Michelle."

By the look on the intern's face then this bit of information apparently had no bearing on her. As Dr. Lewis stood staring at her she merely remained seated, looking back and waiting to see where he was going with everything.

Deeply came a few more breaths of air as Lewis' emotional walls continued to crumble from the stress of everything. Silently Michelle sat staring at him, almost as though she was now judging him for his actions, and it became too much. "How?" came a small word as his emotions overwhelmed him. "How did he manage to fax that to me? How did he manage to do any of the things that he has been doing?" With that Lewis fell back into his chair, no longer knowing what to do.

"Sh," gently came Michelle as she tried to calm him down. Placing a hand on his she merely said, "It's going to be okay Dr. Lewis. I'm sure there's a reason behind all of this."

Slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers, Lewis couldn't help but to feel awkward at her hand's touch as he took in another deep breath. "Maybe there is," he whispered. "Maybe all of this makes sense somehow. But I can't see how. It's just all so hard."

"I know, and I know that this is a great burden on you. But you can't fix it by sitting here and worrying over everything. If you're sure that Christian is behind all of this, then you must get your answers from him, and only him."

"But," Lewis couldn't help to blurt out. "How am I going to get to him? He's locked up in the isolation ward."

"And you're a doctor here at Brookhaven. You have the authority to visit any patient you want." While the statement might have seemed to be an obvious one, it was something that Lewis had never fully considered. Still, traces of doubt began to form in his mind, prompting Michelle to add reassuringly, "It's the only way to get rid of your demons."

She was right. If he was to have any hope of freeing himself of the bonds of terror and returning to the realm that others knew as normal, then he had to do everything in his power to solve the purpose of Christian's notes; including his reason behind sending them.

"Yes, I have to go talk to Christian," he said suddenly and reaffirming. "You're right Michelle. I have to get these answers from him; no matter what."

There was a new determination reflected in the doctor's eyes as he lifted himself out of his chair, grabbing the stack of papers concerning the man, and crossed the room to his office's door. Before exiting, he waited for the young intern who still had her back to him. A smile made its way onto her face, a smile that was quickly becoming part of her normal attire. Grabbing her camera she flashed the middle-aged man that same smile before they exited the room.

Moments after the door softly clicked shut then the office's silence was once more interrupted. Not by people, but by a machine that suddenly whirred to life. Spitting out several sheets of paper, the fax machine quickly performed its task, before just as suddenly going dim and silent once more.

Across the top of these fresh sheets was a golden logo and Officer Simmons' name. These pieces of paper held everything that the police had managed to gather in regards to Cassie before bringing her to Brookhaven. A slight wind snuck its way into the psychologist's office, as though it too was curious about the papers' contents. Among several facts there seemed to be one that stood out, despite it hardly being written in any eye-catching way.

Blood type: AB negative