Chapter 4: Thorn
- 6 weeks before Halloween - September 14th, 1969 -

Early in the morning, before the sun rose, I was woken by the sound of staff running through the hall. Another code had been called. This time it was a Code: Black, which was called whenever there was a personal threat, staff threat, severe weather alert, or a death.

I knew the code had been called over someone discovering Anthony's body. Either maintenance headed down to the basement or one of the nurses realizing that he was missing.

Chelsea had been woken up to, I heard her groan, hearing all the commotion in the halls.

Laying in bed, facing the wall, I tried to ignore everything that was happening. There's no way I could say a word. If they believed me, Michael would make me his next target. If they didn't believe me, I was pretty sure I'd still be his next target.

The worst part of it all, was that there was a piece of me that believed he deserved it. He attacked Samantha in her sleep, and again went she moved to defend me. And he'd even hurt me, because of some grudge he had with Michael?

It was just easier, all around to dispose of him, rather than risking him repeating his past events.

I hated myself for that thought.

Ninety minutes later and everything had started to calm down. Anthony's death had been reported as a suicide. The blood dripping on his clothes and the floor was clarified to be from the lacerations from the cord around his neck. I wasn't sure who'd examined the scene and written the report out, but, there had been much more of a story to tell aside from the fact he'd been hung from the railing.

Two of staff members were talking about the mysterious bruising on his skin. The police and the doctor that examined him didn't have anything to say about them. Even though they hadn't been written in report when he was emitted to the infirmary the night prior.

One of the nurses seemed a little scared, mentioning that the reports had been changed, and said that during his transport to the room, he'd started a fight, violently lashing out at his transporter, which the man had to defend himself.

Anthony was sedated with drugs, and strapped to a gurney. I watched everything happen.

The doctors didn't mention anything about what had happened. Word had spread enough, every patient knew about it. We talked among ourselves. Everyone seemed to believe that he took his own life.

Everyone, but, Dr. Loomis.

He'd been keeping a closer eye on Michael today. During breakfast, during group therapy, during lunch. He went so far as to cancel each individual therapy that had been scheduled that day, making Dr. Wynn and Dr. Grannel scramble around, trying to take care of everyone.

Grannel normally worked with the adult patients, but, due to everything that had been happening in the Juvenile ward, she was temporarily assigned to help out.

Dr. Wynn hadn't been around, apparently, he decided to return to his administrative duties, as the work had recently been piling up and Dr. Rogers, along with Dr. Carpenter weren't able to keep up.

I was thankful to not be seeing Dr. Wynn for a while.

- September 1969 -

Michael hadn't come out to the main room today. Dr. Loomis continued to shadow him, standing outside of the boys' ward, watching him. I didn't blame Michael for staying isolated. If he acted disinterested, maybe Loomis would leave him alone.

And, he had. During dinner, Loomis was nowhere to be seen. Michael hadn't made eye contact with anyone. He didn't look up from his plate. Slowly, he was falling back into his catatonic state.

Was that just how he reacted after murdering someone? Going completely silent, claiming to be mentally unstable in order to avoid severe charges? Was he manipulating those around him into pitying him because he's a child?

Of course he was.
How else would one child get away with so much?

Murdering his sister, supposedly two other boys and now a third one? He was talented at keeping the suspicion away from him. No one, staff wise, aside from Loomis seemed to suspect a thing.

Towards the end of dinner, Michael had finally had some semblance of a response. Hearing Loomis' voice, his head slowly lifted, glaring in the direction of where he'd heard him.

The scowl he'd given him was far from the normal blank stare he had on his face. Eyebrows pulled down together, his eyes wide, full of rage, jaw clenched. His hand gripped the edge of the table tightly. There was nothing more than pure hatred for Loomis.

This menacing look didn't last long, before any of the doctors could notice, he was back to his normal vacant self.

Michael's stare frightened me.

Again, even though Loomis was no longer near him, Michael hadn't come out of his room.

"What's wrong?" Chelsea asked, sitting next to me, in the space where Michael usually sat. "Did you two get into a fight or something?" She used a joking tone, hoping to cheer me up.

"I don't know…. Maybe?"

She frowned. "What exactly did you two do last night?"

Lowering my head, I wasn't sure exactly what to tell her, if I could even trust her. "He-he just wanted to make sure I was alright." I lied, crossing my arms.

A confused look spread across her face. "What, did he like, talk to you, or something?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. I wish he would have. That would have made everything so much easier to understand…"

She scooted closer, putting her arm around me. "Hey, don't get too down. It's hard to communicate with someone who doesn't speak. If he's angry, or if you're angry, I'm sure things will be better tomorrow. I mean, you are the only person he's ever really taken an interest in."

"Yeah.. I guess you're right."

"Sorry to interrupt ladies." Dr. Loomis called, heading over towards us. "But, may I speak to you Elaine?"

It was only a matter of time before he came to interrogate me. I was surprised he waited so long, with everything that transpired, I should have been the prime suspect, when it came to Anthony's death. However, it was probably hard to believe that a nine year-old could be capable of committing such a crime, let alone a female nine year-old.

I agreed and walked with Dr. Loomis to his room.

He closed the door behind us, walking over to one of the patient chairs, rather than the chair behind his desk. I took the opposite seat.

"It is imperative that you be honest with me, do you understand?" The look on his face was fierce, determined.

"I have no reason to lie." I replied, hoping to appear unbothered.

"Do you feel safe around Michael?" I should have known it was actually about him. There was no room for hesitation, he'd easily figure me out if I waited even a second.

"Of course." I answered effortlessly.

He thought for a second, crossing his arms. Probably trying to figure out if he could, believe me or not. "Has he said a word to you? Anything at all?"

Again, I need to be quick with my answer. "N-no.. no, he hasn't." I tried to make my voice sound a little disappointed. Before he could ask another question, I interrupted him. "Is Michael alright?"

There was a slight smile playing on his lips. "Yes, he is fine. Just, a bit more reserved than he's been the past week. With everything that's been happening, I was worried maybe it was starting to have a negative effect on him."

He was lying. I knew he suspected that Michael had something to do with Anthony's death. It had been so awfully covered up. "Maybe he's just getting sick or something?" I suggested, wondering if I could lead him off Michael's trail. Loomis laughed. "I doubt it. As long as he's been here, I've never seen him ill. He has an amazing immune system."

Eventually, Dr. Loomis started asking about my own progress, keeping me a bit longer, to catch up on what I'd made improvements in. I told him about my sleeping issues, and how I've been having nightmares, I didn't give him any details, convincing him I only remembered the panic when I woke up.

He made a note to mention my problems to Dr. Hill, so she could adjust my night medication. For tonight, I was sent to bed without any meds, to see if that would allow me to get a decent night's rest.

- 1 Month before Halloween - September -

Two more weeks passed. The 29th of September. Still nothing from Michael. He'd refused to leave his room, I rarely even saw him leave his room for meals. The staff had started bringing his meals to him.

I should have felt happy, now that I didn't have a killer in my shadows. But, I wasn't. I was afraid.

Afraid that I was losing him. Any form of kindness that he may have left. That the next time we met, he'd be that being full of rage I saw across the table. The being that had brutally murdered me in his sleep.

Soon, I started falling into the same pattern. Refusing to leave the ward. Having my meals delivered. My medicine had been increased and I was frequently checked on. The staff believing I may be of harm to myself.

- 2 Weeks before Halloween - October 13th, 1969 -

More time passed. No sight of Michael. Now, I was getting angry. He wasn't going to kill someone for me, and then vanish from my life. If he wanted me to keep his secret, he was going to talk to me.

I went directly to Dr. Loomis, asking to talk to Michael. He advised me, that this time of year wasn't the best time for him. I persisted. It took three hours in total to convince him. It wasn't just for myself, but, also for him.

Loomis was still nervous as we walked in. "Michael, Elaine would like to see you, may we come in?"

No response. Not even a glance.

The doctor approached him. "Michael?" placing his hand on Michael's shoulder. Fear struck me. I was afraid Michael would choose now to strike. He hated Loomis. I remembered the rage.

Nothing happened.

He allowed me to come into the room, and approach Michael, surprised that I simply stood next to him, rather than speaking. We communicated in silence. Simple gestures showed far more than words could say. If he saw that after everything, I was still there for him, maybe he'd come around.

"Samuel! I'd like to have a word with you." A voice rang out from behind. It was Wynn.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Nothing of the sort." I heard his footsteps stop just short of Michael and I. "Elaine can stay here, it'll only take a couple minutes. "

Loomis didn't sound pleased by the suggestion. "That's against regulation, Terence."

Wynn sighed. "Well, I'm allowing it for the moment. Please, come with me." Rather than argue in front of us, Loomis reluctantly left the two of us alone. I waited until they were out of earshot before I made my move.

Moving closer to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?" His hands tightened around the arm's of the chair. "Michael!" I called, raising my voice. Why was he being so stubborn?

"Michael…"

My arm dropped, I was almost ready to give up. If Loomis couldn't get through to him, how could I? I needed to try. After all, he'd spoken to me, even if it was just a word, that was one word more than anyone else has heard in years.

I moved in front of him, his gaze immediately dropped. "Hey… You know that I'm not angry, right? I'm worried." Laying my hand over his own, I felt a twitch in response. He wasn't unaware.

Slowly, I raised my hand, hoping to touch his cheek, lift his face so that I could look into his eyes, see something beyond his blank stare. As soon as my fingers touched his cheek, he jerked, pushing me back against the window, his right hand around my throat.

The sudden lack of oxygen, left me feeling faint. Anxiety spiking, as my mind panicked, searching for a way to get away.

His squeeze seemed like more of a warning, the grip still hurt and took away my breath, but, if he was strong enough to throw Anthony, a kid older than himself, over a railing, I knew he could easily apply more pressure.

With every gasp, fear started to manifest. What if he didn't let go? Maybe, I'd be his next victim… I pushed my hand against his chest, clenching the fabric of his shirt. His grip loosened, before he tossed me to the side casually.

I fell to my knees, coughing, gasping, trying to catch my breath. Tears stung the brims of my eyes, not because of my physical wounds, but, because he'd actually harmed me, in reality. My nightmares were now more than bad dreams.

Managing to pull a deep breath in, I struggled to my feet, rubbing where his hand had just been. "What's wrong with you, Michael?" I questioned, not bothering to look back. There was no way I could handle seeing that emotionless stare right now.

But, I had to look. I wanted to know if he was looking at me the same way he'd looked at Dr. Loomis, if he were, maybe I could get a head start, alert the doctors of what he'd done, maybe have him transferred, or even myself.

I was frozen, the vision of him suddenly holding a knife and wearing that mask popped into my head.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, presumably the doctors, I had to act fast. All I took was a quick peak, letting out a sigh of relief when I didn't see the pure hatred in his eyes. His gaze was still fierce, warning me not to get close, that next time, he wouldn't halt his attack.

Wiping my eyes, I began heading towards the door, I could hear him move, sitting back in the chair. This too, would be kept just between the two of us.

I attempted to rush past the doctors without them noticing, didn't work, Loomis instantly reached out grabbing my arm. "Elaine, what's wrong?"

I pulled against him trying to get away, but, that only made his grip tighter.

"I'm fine!" I exclaimed, refusing to let him look at me.

"Samuel, take her back to her room, I'll check on Michael." Wynn directed, stepping into the ward.

Dr. Loomis, started walking forward, dragging me alongside him. "I can see that you're upset, is it because of Michael? Because he won't acknowledge you? You see, he doesn't respond anyone here, in fact, we were all surprised when he even looked in your direction. You caught him on a good day. He rarely leaves his room, it took a while to coax him out. With you around, he's been surprisingly active. But, as we were all dreading, he's retreated back to himself. Because each day nears closer to the anniversary."

"Anniversary?"

"Halloween, the night he killed his older sister. I'm sure you've been told by the others?" Loomis glanced down at me with a raised brow. "If you give him a month, I'm sure he'll come around again, he's just traumatized. I was told their siblingship wasn't the best, so, her death was most likely the result of an argument and Michael didn't understand what he did. It was Halloween after all, he probably saw it in a movie, children like yourself are very impressionable."

I didn't agree that Michael was just a traumatized child. Not after seeing what had happened to Anthony. I believed fully that he was aware of what he was doing and that he didn't care. His older sister, and three roommates, maybe more.

Dr. Loomis continued speaking, seeing that I was still a bit shaken up. "In fact, I think you might remind him of his younger sister. She tragically passed away alongside his parents, four years ago. She and his mother visited a few times, but half a year before the tragedy, they stopped coming. They seemed to get along quite well."

We finally reached the girl's ward, Loomis got down on one knee. "Just give Michael a little time. Everything will be alright."

- Two Days before Halloween - October 29th, 1969 -

Samantha had finally returned to the ward, and Nancy was allowed back too. Nancy started keeping to herself, aside from the two boys she'd been hanging around.

Sam was worried about me, because of her injuries, she still had difficulties speaking, however, she made up for it, by grabbing my wrist, taking a marker and drawing that strange rune across it. I felt like this was a warning, but, with no words being exchanged between the two of us, I just shrugged it off.

Michael still hadn't left his room. I was getting better, knowing that it was probably just a phase. I'd still wave, and offer a smile, the rare times he actually left. Maybe, in a week or so, he'd be better, we could be friends again, or at least we could go back to whatever he saw me as. A sister, or whatever.

I'd was given my pill's, and sent to bed, around 10:00pm as normal. I was feeling pretty good about the next few days.
Less than a week before I planned on talking to Michael again. Or at least attempting.

Drifting to sleep, my heart aflutter, and full of excitement for soon being able to see him again. I didn't understand the attraction I held for him. He'd been the first person I really approached, the first I had formed a somewhat bond with. And, I was the only one he allowed to do so. There was more to our relationship, than two insane kids at a mental hospital. We'd definitely last beyond this place. We'd escape together, whether he remained silent or not.

My mind drifted to sleep rather easily.

"Sedate her, I don't want her waking up, like the other one." A male voice called out in a demanding tone. Several pairs of footsteps entered the room.

"Yes, sir." This voice was female.

There was a slight prick on the left side of my neck. The skin around the area became cool, masking the sting.

My eyes shot open, frantically glancing around the room, there were two men, and one woman. My eyelids grew heavy, almost immediately, I couldn't stay awake any longer, falling within darkness once again. Convincing myself the experience had been nothing but a bad dream.

Hour passed, maybe only minutes, before I heard the voice speaking once more. They were a bit clearer, I started recognize a couple. But, being in a half-dazed state, their names, weren't coming to mind.

"Make sure the straps are tight, while your at it. I don't want to play hide-and-seek with a patient, again." The voice was harsh, but, spoke with intelligence.

A heat built-up in my head. "Wake up!" This voice was disembodied, echoing, blurred between male and female.

Again, I jerked awake, desperately trying to examine my surroundings. A red hue illuminated the room, I couldn't see much else, my vision was blurred. There was a table, just to my left, objects scattered across. There were a few other objects, furniture-wise, that I could define, a chair, cabinets, and, what looked to be a gurney.

"Well, it seems you chose right. She's a fighter. A perfect match." The female, announced. She leaned in front of me, flashing a light in my eyes. Her was down, long, and possibly brownish in color. She, too, was familiar, but, I still couldn't place a name. "Should I give her another dose?"

Heavy footsteps approached. "Absolutely not. I want her to be afraid to speak a word of this. The girl's already seen too much. She can suffer." He was wearing a lab coat. This was someone from the hospital. Someone I trusted.

'Fall back to sleep', I begged myself, whatever was happening, I didn't want to be awake. If I could only pretend that I hadn't realized the direness of the situation, maybe I wouldn't have to suffer.

"Wake up!" The same distorted voice as before, waking once again.

This time, my vision was clearer, and the lighting, brighter, instead of the red hue, it was now a dull golden A woman sat at a desk in front of me, three vials of dark liquid, placed next to her.

She turned, giving me a clear look at her face. It was Dawn, Dr. Wynn's secretary, one of the first women I'd spoken to upon arriving at Smith's Grove. A gasp left my lips, drawing her attention.

"Elaine is awake again." Her voice cold, completely different from the warmth I'd felt before.

Dr. Wynn stepped into the room, putting on a pair of rubber gloves. "Good."

My instincts told me to run, only to remember, I'd been strapped to the chair, incapable of movement. The next breath I took in was shaky, I was afraid, but, my heart wasn't racing. Had it been the sedative?

"What is this place?" I asked, still hoping to wiggle an arm free.

"This place, is none of your business. We'll only be here a few more minutes." Wynn replied, walking to the table where Dawn had been seconds earlier. "We've been waiting for someone like you. Someone able to catch Michael's attention. Your friend, Samantha was the first, and a failure. They didn't have a bond, like the one you developed. Now, I'm afraid, she's permanently fucked in the head. We didn't dare to repeat the ritual with the other girls. Then, you came around."

I couldn't wiggle free, nor was there wasn't enough room to pull my hand through. "What did you do to her?" I wanted to keep him talking, to possibly make an escape, due to a careless mistake on his behalf.

"We gave Michael a gift. In exchange for that gift, his job was to take the lives of his family. He failed, and one still lives. His little sister. You are our backup plan. Possibly, because of your age difference, he actually took an interest in you, tried to hide his affection for you. But, he failed at that too." His explanation was vague, I needed more information.

He picked up one of the vials, walking over to me. "Now, if he fails to kill his sister, and she continues their bloodline, you'll help further his bloodline, to a newer generation. The two of you will be connected, unable to resist. No matter how much you fight it." His answers still too vague.

Wynn was absolutely insane, there was no other way to describe it.

"Continue the bloodline? You can't force something like that on someone!" I hissed in protest.

Wynn smirked, placing his hand on my cheek. "Yet, here am I, forcing your destiny on you." Turning my head quickly, sinking my teeth into his thumb, hard enough to draw blood. He withdrew his hand, striking me, there'd probably have a bruise in the morning.

"Dawn! Keep the bitch restrained!"

The woman walked behind me, placing her hands on my head, one around my chin, the other on top of my skull. Wynn's grip replaced her own on my jaw, her hands moving to either side of my head.

"What is that!?" I managed to get the words out.

"This, oh, you'll enjoy this! It's Michael's blood. I had some extra drawn a few weeks ago, no one seemed to notice. Lucky for you."

I didn't want anything to do with any of this, I wanted to wake up, have this be nothing but a bad dream. However, I knew this was real, and resisted as much as I could. But, what could an eleven year-old child do against a grown man?

He pried my mouth open, using the other to pour the vial in.
The taste was horrid, irony, way too salty, and there was an added sourness. My body rejected it immediately. Wynn groaned in detest.

"No need to worry, there is more where that came from." He took a cloth, wiping my mouth clean, reaching for another vial, forcing my jaw open again, pouring the blood in and forcing my jaw closed, pinching my nose shut, I forcefully swallowed the liquid, gagging as soon as he let me go. I felt violated, and needed to reject it from my system.

"The more you reject his blood, the more I will pour down your throat. Understand?" He warned, probably seeing the look on my face.

Choking down my vomit, I nodded. I didn't want to keep going through that experience.

There was another sting in my neck, sending me back into the darkness, presumably, forcing my stomach to settle. This time, I didn't mind.

"Once more…" The same distorted voice rang out once more.

Eyes slowly fluttered open, again, still strapped to the chair. "You are just unfortunate." Wynn replied, holding a steel rod over an open fire to the left of me, staring my way, waiting for the flames to heat up. "You'll have to suffer through this too."

My left palm was now facing upwards, my pulse finally quickened. I knew what he was preparing.

"As you may have guessed, you will also be branded with our mark, like Michael and Samantha." He lifted the rod, walking towards me.

"Michael's going to kill you!" I blindly threatened him, having no other ideas to keep him away me. He only laughed, taking my hand in his own, keeping my arm straight. "The other girl threatened me as well." That same devious smirk reappeared. "Here I stand." He was mocking me.

The metal pressed against my skin, a searing sensation, the pain caused me to squeeze the doctor's hand, crying out. The rod was removed a second later, seeing the new wound only seemed to make the pain worse. And slowly it faded, as my nerves were destroyed.

"Look on the bright side, now you match. Two orphans, marked with Thorn."

Darkness overtook me again.

- One Day before Halloween - October 30th, 1969 -

"Elaine? Dear god, you poor girl!"

My eyes opened, I was back in the ward. A smile stretched across my face, maybe it had been a dream?

"Doctor Loomis, I need your assistance!" Mary called from the hall.

I tried moving, my limbs were free. Raising my hand, I saw the new mark. It wasn't a dream… My arm dropped, defeated. Samantha moved next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder to get my attention, before mouthing the words, "Don't tell them."

"Sam, move away, please!" Dr. Loomis demanded, making his way to my side. "Can you hear me, Elaine?"

"Y-yeah." My voice was weak.

"How do you feel?" He placed his hand on my forehead. "She doesn't have a fever.."

I took in a breath, my mouth retained that putrid taste. "Horrible."

Dr. Loomis had determined that I wasn't sick, it had to be a reaction to my medication. He went to call the night nurse, asking what I'd been given. Determined that she'd messed something up.

Mary, however, stayed, helping me to my feet, cleaning all the vomit off the bedspread and myself.

Dr. Wynn had just dropped me back on my bed. No use in trying to cover his trail. He'd been right, I was too afraid to say a word.

I showered and changed clothes, Mary had seen my scar, but hadn't said a word about it.

My stomach churned at her lack of response.

Loomis returned, meeting up with us in the hall. His face red. "Someone updated her medication list without proper authority. She took conflicting pills." He looked me up and down, grabbing my right hand and pulling me away from the nurse.

We stopped a few hall's away. "What did you do?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"The scar on your wrist, Elaine!" He rose his voice. "What did you do!?"

"I-I didn't!" I protested.

The look on his face told me that he didn't believe a word I said. "Who did? Was it Michael?"

"No.."

"Then who!" He knelt down, taking me by my shoulders. "You can talk, tell me who is hurting you children!"

Dr. Wynn rounded the corner. Loomis didn't notice.

"I don't know. It was dark…"

"You don't know?" He sighed. "You don't know, or, you won't tell me? Are you afraid?" His eyes were sympathetic, he wanted to help, but, there was no way he'd believe me. He and Wynn were close.

I swallowed hard. "I am afraid… But, I don't know."

Wynn Smiled as he walked by. Loomis was still none the wiser.

Michael was out in the main room today, sitting in his normal spot. I didn't waste any time in joining him. Though, I didn't look at him, only staring out the window. Distressed. Similar to his own blank stare.

I wasn't sure how to look at the boy, whose blood I'd been fed.

Michael turned his head, looking at me, grabbing my newly bandaged arm and, pulling me closer to him. His arm was around my shoulder, the other holding my hand.

He'd been trying to protect me and I was too blind to see it. He tried to distance himself, to keep him from choosing me. But, as Wynn stated, it was hard for us to resist one another.

I was quiet, hunched over, feeling utterly helpless. My gaze fixated out the window, examining the grass and foliage outside. The sun, shining brightly, I didn't understand how, with everything I'd been through the evening before. Everyone was able to move on, as if terrible things didn't happen.

My throat tightened, as I sharply breathed in, feeling that twist in my gut. I was torn in half, one side wanting to confess everything, the other wanting to hide, hoping he'd just leave me alone, now that I was forever scarred with this mark. I couldn't shut down like Michael did.

All the pent-up hysteria let itself out in a single cry. "I don't know what they did to me, Michael."

To be continued….