Chapter 9: Silence is Golden
- November 1st, 1971 -

The next day, none of the staff seemed to worry about everyone getting up on time. They were in mourning. Dr. Hill, one of their most beloved doctors, had passed away. Her death ruled as a suicide, due to the stress of working in Smith's Grove.

I was a witness. Not personally, but, I saw everything that Michael wanted me to see. He'd even kissed me goodbye, knowing that Loomis would see to it that he was transferred to the adult ward. Wynn had no choice but to agree, due to the circumstance of Nancy's death.

No one was allowed in the common room. Loomis and the other doctors were interviewing each patient, seeing if anyone knew anything about Jennifer's death. If she showed any signs of suicidal tendencies, or seemed off at all. And, of course, Dr. Wynn had been the one to survey me.

"Elaine… I'm getting the feeling you know something. You didn't seem surprised, when the news was delivered. Tell me what you know." Wynn demanded.

I'd been sitting in his office for the last hour, and I hadn't said a word. I'd never be as good as Michael, but, I needed to try. I knew he wouldn't like me saying a word. And if I even tried to explain, I would be the only one getting into any kind of trouble.

Wynn frowned at my lack of response.

The door opened behind me. "You interviewed Elaine, right? Does she know anything?" Walking forward, Loomis noticed me, almost cowering in the chair.

"Well, Sam. I think you'll be rather unenthused to find out, that, Elaine has refused to say a single word."

The doctor's eyes went wide with fear. Wynn looked rather smug, he'd use this as a punishment for my refusal to tell him anything. He wanted to use me as a secret agent, in decoding Michael's mind, and I wasn't telling him a thing. "Terence, could I have a word with Elaine? I may be able to get something out of her."

"Of course." There was malice in tone.

Dr. Loomis led me to his office, staying quiet the entire walk. Once inside, he instructed me to sit in a chair. I obeyed.

He took a deep breath. "What is this hold Michael has over you, Elaine? Is he threatening you? You can tell me, I will help you!"

I kept my silence. No matter what questions he threw at me. I wouldn't speak about Michael, Nancy, Dr. Hill, or even myself. With each question, he grew more furious and concerned. Worried that I would follow the same path as Michael. "Please, child, you must answer me! Don't be like him!"

The new way he looked at me was frightening. It felt like he wanted to destroy me, before I became a carbon copy of Michael. My face wasn't as blank and emotionless as his, but, I was able to keep quiet. Question after question ignored, until he sent me back to the ward, where I sat on my bed, doing nothing. My gaze fixated on the window, though, my thoughts were lost in my mind, I hadn't actually been aware of what I was staring at.

After a while, I could hear Dr. Wynn and Dr. Loomis talking, standing in the doorway, observing me. Loomis was unnerved, when I turned to look at them. I sighed, eyes falling to the floor.

"She needs help. More help than we can give. You couldn't help Michael, but, you can help me save her, before she becomes like him!" He sounded pathetic, repeating his wishes to Wynn, begging for his support. Wynn only shook his head. "No. Elaine knows something. She saw something. She isn't Michael, you can see it in her actions. Refusing to keep eye contact, she looks at us with fear. And, with the way you've treated Michael, she likely believes we are going to torture her for information."

Wynn's accusations were too spot on. Torture me for information? That must've been his plan, if I didn't start talking.

"We'll give her some time to recover, before interviewing her again." Wynn added, walking away.

How much time would he be giving me? Maybe I could escape? Maybe, Michael could help me? Either way, he wasn't going to have his way. If Michael and I were his experiments, he should've figured out how to keep us in his control.

Once Loomis left, Samantha sat next to me, a worried expression lined her face. She had a pad of paper and a pen, quickly scribbling the words, "Don't tell them anything!" Of course I hadn't planned to. No matter what they did to me, I couldn't break. She wrote another note on the pad. "He's claimed you as his. They'd be foolish to harm you. You don't mess with the devil."

I was beginning to believe that Michael was the devil, or the antichrist, something, anything to explain the powers he had. The dreams, how he was somehow able to move about, like a ghost, the influence he had on people, whatever connection he and Samantha had. There had to be some explanation.

As time passed a lot changed about the ward. Michael was transferred to the Adult ward, and Dr. Loomis transferred with him, dropping every case he was managing, choosing to solely focus on Michael, issuing a 1:1, in fear of him being a threat to those around him. This meant he had to be within 15ft of a staff member, at all times.

Occasionally, Loomis would check on the juvenile ward, keeping track of his former patients' progress. He also made sure that I wasn't copying any more of Michael's behavioral patterns. I still refused to speak, but, I did communicate with the doctors, answering 'yes or no' questions. That was far more than what Michael ever attempted and it seemed to suffice for Loomis.

With Dr. Hill's death, and Loomis now working in the adult ward, I was transferred to Dr. Granell. She wasn't as attentive as Dr. Hill, nor, did she have the same motherly charm, but, I felt safe in her hands. She was helping me come to terms with my trauma, little by little.
Though, with everything I've been through, I grew desensitized to my own trauma's. The image of my mother's skull, blow apart still haunted me from time to time, but, compared to being killed, and being forced to kill, it felt tame.

A lot of staff changes happened in the first few months, due to a lack of doctor's. Ridgemont were courteous enough to send two of their own to help out, until new staff could be hired.

Dr. Amy Winters and Dr. Richard Viars.
Being from a maximum security facility like Ridgemont, they were a bit more strict, whipping the staff into shape. The nurses had no choice but to start picking up some of the slack, actually doing their jobs for once. Even Wallace had been helping out. They also implemented more time in solitary confinement, for those who wanted to act unruly, which lead to an improvement in everyone's behavior.

No one wanted to be alone anymore. Not after all the deaths that took place.
Everyone was beginning to feel like prey. Like some unseen force was watching their every move, playing roulette with who made it out, and who died. This place was beginning to feel like hell to the staff and patients alike.

Nearly two year's had passed before I said another word. To the doctor's, at least. I craved human interaction, so, Samantha and I began sneaking out of the girls ward at night, having conversations in the shower rooms. We talked about Michael, and the dreams we were pulled into. They began occurring more frequently, about a week after he was transferred. Not all of them were survival related. Some of them, Michael just wanted to spend time with me. We'd been alone, just the two of us, lying on his mattress. He used those moments to bond with me, showing me parts of his life. Mainly, how he killed.

The scariest thing he showed me, was how exactly he killed Nancy.
No one noticed him move from his seat across the room. Not even I had, and I was watching his every movement.
As soon as the power went out, he just walked over to her, in front of Loomis, passed Dr. Hill and Wallace. Nancy had been aware of his presence, looking right at him, she didn't even try to scream when he knocked her out, holding her head under water, waiting for her breathing to stop, before leaving her there, floating, as he walked back to his seat, acting like nothing had happened. No one heard or saw anything. Though, Loomis suspected him.

With whatever bond Michael and I formed, he'd shown me a lot. What he's done. Each murder he committed, I saw. I wasn't sure how he accomplished any of it, he made me his silent witness.

Adrian was burned in the shower, Michael was reported to have been in the common room when the incident occurred. Again, he'd gotten up, and walked down the hall, into the shower room, hearing Adrian mumble utter nonsense, and he cut off the cold water completely, watching the water scald the boy, listening to him scream. After, he walked out, narrowly missing the nurse who was rushing in, hearing Adrian's screams: That was why shower's became a group activity.
Sadly, Adrian hadn't died from the burns, and was left in a comatose state in the medical ward for weeks. Eventually, Michael snuck out, heading to the Med. ward, where he overdosed Adrian on Potassium. The autopsy revealed he died of natural causes.

Blair hadn't slit his own wrists like the reports document. His body was found mangled in the basement. Michael took his time beating him to death, with a replacement pipe, that somehow went missing. No evidence left behind. The EMT's believed that Blair was disturbed, throwing himself down the stairs multiple times, trying to break his own neck, before grabbing a box cutter, carelessly left out on a tool box, and slit his wrists. Michael was the one to cut his wrists open, leaving him to suffer, covered in bruises, fractured bones, and in a pool of his own blood.

Matthew, one of the nurses, seemingly left in the middle of his shift, and drove his car off a cliff. When in reality, he'd fallen asleep and was swept into one of Michael's dreams. He woke up, and saw Michael, standing in front of him, staring. Michael did attack him, but, the nurse was afraid, he made it out of the building. There was no answer as to why he was found at the bottom of a cliff, instead of alerting the authorities. Michael didn't have that answer.

Anthony had also been involved in Michael's dreams. Which was why he wanted to kill me. He saw how friendly Michael was towards me, and he knew I was his favorite. He grew to hate Michael and wanted to take any happiness he had. When he failed, he knew it was only a matter of time before Michael came for him. He waited patiently as Michael unstrapped him, and Michael gave him a chance to defend himself, but, Anthony lost, after being hit in the ribs by a medical tray, the pain immobilized him enough for Michael to choke him with a cord, leaving him just enough breath in his lungs to feel when Michael effortlessly tossed him over.

Mason's family was killed late one night, after being run off the road, Michael had been the driver. Apparently Dr. Wynn was teaching him how to drive. Wynn made sure the car was properly disposed of.

Roger's death was particularly violent. There was no reason behind it, he hadn't done anything to piss Michael off. He was just targeted randomly one evening, dragged out of bed, where Michael fought him, punching him in the stomach, and smacking his bottom jaw into the top, causing him to bleed, having bitten his tongue. He choked on his own blood, and Michael finished the job, severing his now swollen tongue.

I began theorizing a long time ago, that Michael showed me these things, made me kill in those dreams, because he wanted me to feel the same thrill he did. That had to be his cause.
Samantha agreed with my theory. She believed that Michael sought acknowledgement, and I was just another person acknowledging what he was capable of.

One night in August, 1972 I made a mistake. Samantha and I had met up, but, the two of us were caught, by, Wynn's secretary, Dawn. As a cruel punishment from Wynn himself, she'd alerted not only Dr. Granell, but, Dr. Loomis that Samantha and I were talking about Michael, and how he was terrorizing our dreams. We were both sent back to the ward, but, Wallace had woken me up, escorting me to Loomis' office, where I was met by he and Granell.

There was quite the scowl across Loomis' face, seeing Wallace and I. He escorted me in, having me sit down on the chair, before leaving me to face the doctor's, alone.

"Have you been faking your condition, Elaine? Do you believe that this is some kind of game? It is our job to help you, we cannot do anything, if you don't tell us what's wrong!"
Granell placed her hand on Loomis' shoulder. "Samuel, settle down." She glanced at me, before returning her attention to him. "She isn't faking her trauma. You know that. Elaine is just… confused. She and Jennifer were close, losing her has taken just as much of a toll on Elaine, as it has you. Please, understand that."

Dr. Loomis didn't want to listen to reason, but, he failed in thinking of a retort. He knew she was right. Dr. Hill and I formed quite the bond. "I-I know…" He finally replied, letting out a sigh.
"Her trauma has only worsened. I believe not only what happened to her, but Jennifer's passing and mainly, Michael's influence has warped her mind."

It was a little awkward, listening to the two talk about me, as if I wasn't in the room. But, they probably knew I didn't want to talk to them.

Loomis looked over at me again, still frowning. "We can't help her, if she won't let us.

"You see, that's the thing. She isn't letting us." Granell placed her hand over a file lying on Loomis' desk. "In your reports, you've talked about her friendship with Michael. And, several times, you used the phrases "obsession" and "fixation", that's exactly what it is."

"And, what are you thinking?"

Granell took a deep breath. "You aren't going to like it." She paused, looking at me, then back at him. "She's obsessed with Michael, and unwilling to cooperate with us. I believe she may have developed a form of Stockholm Syndrome."

Loomis looked puzzled, folding his arms over his chest. "It's not like Michael's holding her captive…"

"No, but, she's showing several symptoms and behaviors of Stockholm victims. And she's following the pattern pretty well. Elaine developed positive feelings for him, when the other kids strayed away, she isn't cooperating with those who want to help her, and, she believes Michael is a good person. The only issue is…. Her past… It isn't normal for someone with a background like hers to fall into a hostage-captor relationship multiple times. Granted, she could be a rare case. "

"That would explain her sudden estrangement…" Loomis spoke, more to himself than either of us.

My eyes were darting between the doctors, wondering what they'd decide to do, if they'd throw more pills at me, or try to continue talking to me?

Loomis approached, sitting in a chair, across from me. "Elaine, please answer me honestly, how do you feel about Michael? I know you've said that he doesn't scare you, and that he hasn't hurt you, but, you've never truly told me how you feel, aside from the fact that you two are…. Friends."

"Michael…" I repeated his name, taking some time to think. Dr. Loomis seemed surprised that I had even spoken at all, probably assuming I'd just fall back into my silent state. "Well, I-I really like him. I feel… close to him." There wasn't much I wanted to say about our relationship. The warmth he brought whenever I thought of him, whenever he held my hand, or held me in his arms, or even when he kissed me. Those moments were between us only.

"Do you feel safe around him? Do you think that he'll harm you?" Was the next question, asked by Granell.

"I don't know. Maybe." That was the truth. With how brutally he'd killed me in the dreams, and how roughly he'd grab me, I wasn't sure if he'd hurt me. I did believe I was safer than anyone else. But, I was probably still at risk.

"What happens when you dream about him? Does he hurt you in your dreams?"

How would I get myself out of this situation? They were asking too much. Michael wouldn't be happy, I'd have to watch my wording. Or, I could make Loomis rather uncomfortable.

Lowering my eyes, I prepared to answer, figuring out what my lie would be. "I'd really rather not say." Loomis didn't seem ecstatic about my answer. He wanted details. "Elaine, you need to tell me. " My face was red, the warmth rushing to my cheeks, I took a deep breath before answering, keeping my eyes to the ground. "My dreams with Michael have been rather… Intimate." His face fell, not happy about my newest development. Loomis was frustrated, the last thing he wanted to deal with, was my attraction to a killer.

The room fell silent, as I figured. Dr. Loomis was now overloaded with information. It likely wouldn't be long until he sent me back to my room. I managed to avert Dawn's accusations of my dreams being about Michael hurting me, to dreams about Michael being intimate with me. Loomis put together that he hadn't been trying to kill me, but, taking on the persona of an aggressive lover, instead.

Dawn hadn't caught too much of our conversation, at least, it didn't seem so, unless she was purposely keeping Loomis out of the loop.
Why was she even here this late? Normally she leaves around 7pm.

"Well, it is late, I will be stopping by to speak with you again, tomorrow, Elaine."

With that, Dawn was called, and she escorted me back through the halls. I could briefly hear Granell and Loomis talking, Loomis was heading home, he was already past his normal shift. Granell would be heading to the adult ward, to watch Michael, leaving Dawn and Wallace to watch the girls and boy's wards.

Once we rounded a corner, Dawn stopped, waiting for Granell and Loomis to take the elevators down. She grabbed my arm, keeping me from moving away from her. The elevator door closed, taking the doctors to the first floor. Her attention turned back towards me. "Dr. Wynn would like to meet with you." Reaching into her pocket, she took out a syringe. "Don't you dare make a sound." I tried jerking away, piecing together that she intended on taking me back to that room, where I'd received the Thorn mark.

As I was struggling to loosen her grip, a footfall echoed in the hall behind me. "Honestly, Dawn, you're too straightforward. You didn't have to tell her a thing." The voice belonged to Wynn himself. He placed his hands on my shoulders, helping to keep me still, while Dawn jammed the needle in my arm. Again, as with Michael, my consciousness faded immediately, before they'd even removed the needle from my arm.

This time was different, I was aware of what was happening, Dr. Wynn carried me through the halls, calling the elevator, I heard each individual chime as they waited for the elevator to arrive. And again when they reached their desired floor.

"We have at least another 20 minutes, before she wakes up." Wynn alerted Dawn. "Everything should be set up when we arrive. Dr. Loomis is gone, and Dr. Granell will be quite busy, handling Michael. And, Wallace has no need to check on the girls ward. He'll be concentrating on his own charge."

Wynn trapped me here, taking care of any potential escape route I had. Now, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

"Though, I do have a concern. When I found Elaine and Samantha, they were talking about strange dreams they'd been having, centering around Michael. It sounded like they believed he was controlling them.. Do you believe something like that's possible?" Wynn only scoffed in response. "Ridiculous. Samantha is just spreading her delusions."

My state of consciousness wasn't deep enough to even try calling Michael, or initiating the dreams. Whatever they injected into my system, kept me just aware enough to prevent deep slumber.

"Go back upstairs, I don't want Wallace getting curious, and if any of the girls wake up, to see you're not there, it will draw suspicion. I'd have to fire you for negligence. And I wouldn't want to lose someone as valuable as you." His last sentence was flirtatious. Dawn chuckled before sighing. "Alright, I'll head back. See you tomorrow, Terence." He and Dawn seemed to be involved. Maybe I could use that against them at a later date?

Wynn carelessly tossed me to the ground, I felt the impact, and would likely be sore in the morning, because of it.

"Jill, Markus, I require your assistance." Wynn called out, his footsteps fading from the room. "I trust the serum is ready?"

"Of course sir, but, if we keep introducing strange drugs to her system, in combination with the medicine she's already taken, we could kill her." An unfamiliar female voice answered, concern lingering in her tone. "So be it. If she dies, we will simply stage her death, make it seem like she broke into the nurses station, and overdosed, on anything she could get her hands on." Wynn replied coldly. "But, what of Michael? Elaine is his.."

"Elaine is just a toy to him. And just like all toys, when one is broken, we simply get the child a new one. We replaced Samantha, we'll just have to find a new candidate. Karen seems to be interested in him. "

"I'm not worried about finding a new surrogate, I'm worried about Michael. He likes her."

"What you perceive as kindness is nothing more than manipulation. He sees Elaine like an object, and objects are replaceable. That is enough, Jill."

The woman sighed, reluctantly agreeing with Wynn, knowing it was pointless to dispute her worries any further. "Sir, is it really wise to leave her lying on the floor? We should at least strap her to one of the chairs." Markus questions, walking near me. "Is she even moving? The girl can stay where she is, it's not like she knows the way out. We could find her before she reached the elevator. But, if it makes you feel better, you can strap her to the chair."

Markus nudged my shoulder with his shoe, causing my body to jerk away. "Yeah, I think she'll be coming to any moment. Better to tie her up." Picking my body up, he effortlessly threw me over his shoulder. My eyes fluttered open, vision blurry, but I recognized the dull golden hue. It was definitely the same place as last time.

We passed a medical cart, scalpels and the like spread across it. There was no way, I was about to go down easily, so I reached out, grabbing one of the scalpel's, cutting my hand in the process, before jabbing Markus in his ribs. He dropped me, staggering back, clutching the wound and groaning.

"Markus!?" Wynn hollered out, entering the room, dazed whenever he saw me rising to my feet, weapon in hand. I still felt off, because of the drug, so I could only manage a hunched over position.

A smile formed across his face. "You're just like him. The hatred in your eyes, the desire to cut my throat open, it's delicious. But, as I told him, you need me, kill me and you'll never get out of this place. I am the only help you have."
Wynn walked forward, and as he reached out to grab me, I took the scalpel, burying the blade in his arm.

"You bitch!" he cried out, back handing me, knocking me to the ground. The scalpel flew across the floor. I had to get back up, I had to fight, Wynn was right, there was no running away.

He kicked me in the stomach, assuring I stayed down. Wynn managed to knock the wind from my lungs, and a wave of nausea washed over me, an excruciating headache forming just a moment after. My vision wavered, one moment I was staring at the floor, seeing the bottom of cabinets in the corners of my vision, and the doctor's shoes, the next, I saw a plain wall, and a barred window, nothing but darkness able to be seen.

I tried getting to my feet, just to have my vision change again, lowering from the window, examining a hand. The arm turned over, revealing Wynn's branding, and another burn, I had no doubt that it was Michael's hand, a dull sting flaring up around my own branding. Lifting my arm, I examined the mark, feeling the urge to increase the pain. I sunk my teeth into the surrounding skin.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Wynn called out, kicking me once again. "Jill, I need to stabilize Markus, and then call Dr. Bonham, tell him that I need him here. Send Richard and Marcine down here, I want extra eyes on Elaine."

Closing my eyes, I saw the nearly empty room again, gaze still focused on Michael's arm, his hand clenching, before he rose from his chair, looking over to the doorway. He was just tall enough to see through the small window, near the top of the door. A figure approached, Michael withdrew, heading towards the bed, before lying down, and pulling the sheet over him, acting as if he'd been asleep. Everything went dark, the door opened, Dr. Granell sighed. "Must've been tired…" She mumbled to herself, before flicking off the light, heading back out of the room.

Wynn grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him, I swung at him, only to have my other arm caught. "Cooperate with me, child!"

"You're trying to kill me!" I shouted back. "I'm not trying to kill you, I just don't care if you die." Lunging forward, I kneed the doctor in his crotch, he let go of me as a reaction. The scalpel was somewhere behind me, it was too dimly lit to bother looking for it, I needed a new weapon. The medical tray was behind Wynn, I needed to find a way passed him. Maybe, I could just distract him?

"Why did you bring me down here?" I questioned, taking a step back. Wynn and I were the only two in the room, Jill must've come to retrieve Markus while I was out of it. That made handling him easier, but, escaping a bit harder.
"Isn't it obvious? You told me you knew who he was going to kill. All these years, and I've never predicted one of his victims, I just covered it up. Yet, you, you've predicted multiple deaths. Anthony, Nancy, and Jennifer. You had no reaction to their deaths, not a bit surprised, not mournful. And with these last deaths, you began mimicking his behavior, is that something he told you to do?" Wynn copied my movements, moving forward.

If all he wanted me to do was talk, I'd talk. "Is that it? That's what you wanted? Was such little information really worth all this? Do you really think he told me? You forced a makeshift betrothal on me, without knowing the consequences, I wanted those three dead." All I had to do was make sure he didn't see through my facade, talk my way out of his torture.

"How insipid do you believe me to be, child?"

A smirk lined my lips. "You don't? But, doesn't it make sense? Anthony attacked me. Nancy and I never got along, and Dr. Hill? Well, she's just like you, always asking too many Goddamn questions. I was hoping that by going silent, you'd all label me as a lost cause, but, no, you just had to ruin that." Dr. Wynn furrowed his brows, not happy with the information I was relaying. Another step backwards, my foot slide across an object, the scalpel. I quickly bent down, picking up the instrument. "Despite that, I will not hesitate in taking your life with my own hands."

"Hmm, I don't believe you have the lack of empathy to kill someone. Let alone have someone killed. I'd like to put that to the test." His stance relaxed, no longer prepared to attack me. "If you want me to believe you're the mastermind, I want you to prove it."

"Terence?" Dr. Viars called out, two sets of footsteps headed towards us, entering the room. Yet another corrupt doctor, with an older woman in tow. The woman narrowed her eyes, "Markus was stabbed with a scalpel, wielded by a little girl? What a baby." Dr. Wynn laughed. "She isn't a normal little girl. She's very dangerous, responsible for three deaths, or so she claims. Would you like to help me disprove her accusations, Marcine?" She sighed, hand on her hip. "Whatever gets me home faster, Terry."

Dr. Wynn walked over to a drawer, pulling out a zip-tie, before grabbing Marcine, forcing her hands behind her back and binding them together. It took her far too long to realize what he was doing, any attempt to resist, was futile. "What the fuck are you doing?" Viars had been the one to speak. "It's simple, Elaine is going to kill a defenseless victim." He replied without empathy. "I didn't fucking agree to die, you bastard!" She spat out, trying to pull her hands free.
"Relax, I'm only calling her bluff, no harm will come to you."

Next, he walked over to the medical cart, grabbing a pair of scissors and tossing them over to me, they landed at my feet. "Those will work much better to take a life, at least, for your lack of strength." He headed back over to Marcine, who looked pretty ticked off. "Get on your knees, make it easy for her." Reluctantly, she did as asked. "You have five minutes to show me you can kill."

That hadn't gone as I originally thought, I could only imagine what they planned on doing if I didn't kill this woman. Wynn seemed rather disinterested, not even bothering to watch my movements, while Marcine's eyes were locked onto me. Viars was focused on one all three of us, standing further back in the room. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, turning his attention to Wynn. "She hasn't moved yet." Was his only response.

I glanced around the room, trying to figure a way out. There was a larger door on the right, and a single door on the left. Viars was standing near the left door, and Wynn along with Marcine were more centered. If I got close to Marcine, there was a chance I could catch everyone off guard and dash through the right. I'd figure everything else out once I lost them.
Bending down, I dropped the scalpel, in exchange for the scissors, Wynn raised a brow, curious as to what my next move was. Slowly, I approached the woman, she took a deep breath, afraid that I might actually be crazy enough to kill her.

At the halfway point, I switched hands, holding the scissors in my left, gripping them tightly, stopping in front of her. Five minutes had to of passed by now, he was just testing, seeing if I'd make a move. My arm twinged as I looked at the woman. Killing her would be so easy, she was helpless, powerless before me. I held her life in my hands.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, seeing a blonde woman walking through a dark hall, a hand reached out, grabbing her hair, yanking her backwards, as a surgical machete was lifted in the air, swinging down to her neck, striking three times in total.

Seeing that gave me an unfulfilled sense. I wanted to feel powerful, I wanted to be more than a scared girl, hiding from her doctor's. Grasping her shoulder, I jabbed the scissors into her neck, right below her chin, she let out a gasp in surprise, as did the doctor's, Wynn moving from his relaxed position. Removing the tool, I rose my hand, stabbing into her neck again.

Wynn seemed rather excited that I just ended his colleague's life and Viars was rather appalled.

"You actually did it… I don't believe it.." He muttered, rather dumbfounded. "But, I still don't think you have that kind of hold over Michael." I backed away, letting the woman fall to the ground. What was it going to take to convince him?

Before he had time to react, I lunged towards him, slicing his shoulder, Viars had moved behind me, grabbing my arms, squeezing my wrist and forcing me to drop the scissors, before holding my arms behind my back. Wynn clutched his wound, gritting his teeth, before reeling back, ready to strike me, when something was thrown through the doorway, landing with a wet thud. This made Wynn freeze, examining the object before mouthing "Jill…"

Lowering his hand, his attention turned to Viars. "Richard, let her go…"

"What, are you insane?"

"Let her go now." He demanded, glancing towards the doorway. I followed his gaze, seeing, Michael a surgical machete grasped in his right hand, lacking his normal blank expression. His brows were furrowed and his lips curved into a frown. He was angry.

Michael extended his free hand, demanding my release, which Viars immediately complied with. My attention turned back to Wynn, as I carefully stepped around Marcines corpse, looking over and seeing the disembodied head, that Michael had thrown. They were afraid of him, and now, hopefully they'd be afraid of me.

Once reaching the door, I grabbed Michael's hand, and he turned, leading me through the halls. His grip was harsh, and he didn't let up his pace.

I was quiet the entire way, until stepping inside the elevator, where I quietly whispered Michael's name, leaning against his shoulder. The moment didn't last long, as he pinned me against the wall, pressing his body against my own. We were both covered in blood, the scent of iron lingering on us, which, with hearing his uneven breathing, seemed to be a turn on for Michael.

His eyes bore into mine, tongue running across his bottom lip, before pressing them to my own, deepening the kiss, something we hadn't explored before. His tongue invaded my mouth, a heat pooling in the bottom of my stomach as a result, my body squirming against his grip, begging for more attention. But, Michael was determined to keep me immobilized, in a show that he was the dominant one. He pulled away, I was finally free to move. A small smile across his lips, he'd been enjoying himself, as had I. The elevator was close to arriving, and someone would be waiting for us.

We stepped out, Dawn was close, fear and disgust written across her face, she quickly walked away, Wynn had probably called her while we were on our way back. Michael took me to the laundry room, where we picked up replacement clothes, and grabbed two towels, one to wipe the blood off our hands, so we wouldn't soil the new clothes, before he dragged me down to the showers. As I stripped down, he watched, silent, unmoving. It was a little creepy, but, welcomed. His gaze didn't move during my entire shower, observing my movements, possibly creating fantasy's in his mind. The smirk still laid on his lips, which was arousing, I liked having him watch me. As soon as I finished, getting redressed, Michael took my hand, leading me back to the girls dorm, where he gave me one more kiss before leaving.

I wasn't bothered for the rest of the night. And Wynn seemed to stop prying into my relationship with Michael, frightened by the display he witnessed that evening.
Loomis was still on my case, but, that wasn't bothering me anymore. Michael was. He was always on my mind, there wasn't a night that I lay in bed without thinking of him, how passionately he'd kissed me, the pride which beamed off him, because I'd killed that woman. I thought of killing more, I thought of killing Karen, to eliminate my competition, I thought of killing Wynn, Dawn, Viars and Loomis. I didn't want to kill anyone, I only had, because I had no other choice, I didn't know Michael was coming to save me.
At least, that's what I convinced myself. He'd given me a warning, allowing me to see that he was on his way. I knew all I had to do was stall, or run. But, I didn't want to deal with the joy, the thrill, the rush of power that had washed through me when that woman died by my hands. Thinking back to the moment, Michael hadn't been the only one turned on by the scent of blood, I was aroused. When I looked at Jill's head, I didn't feel disgust or sorrow, my body ached, wanting to feel Michael.

Weeks passed and the ache never went away, the dreams that I lied to Loomis about started happening, I wanted Michael so badly that my mind always pulled away to my darkest fantasies, where he'd take me, over and over again. But, I hid that part of me. It was easy to act normal, to blend in, as if I hadn't imagined taking everyone's life in the girls dorm, slitting all their throats one evening, and sneaking down the halls to the boy's dorm and doing the same.

Though, I never killed Samantha, she was involved with Michael and I, sharing our mark, and, she'd been in my dreams as well. My desire for her wasn't as strong as it was for Michael, but, there was no denying that it was there. I think Michael wants her too.
Samantha never commented on that fact, though I had asked, all I knew was that she feared him. I wanted to know if she liked him, or if she felt the same urges I did. Her silence, told me all I needed.

She was curious. She wanted to please him and feel his praise just as I do.

To be continued...