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October of 1992
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Royal Woods, Michigan
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Three hours before midnight
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It was the day before the prison transfer of her younger brother, Lyra hadn't felt so many levels of anxiety since her many stays at the institution. Tomorrow would be his twenty-third birthday, he would be celebrating it alone and and his only gift would be a final sentencing for his heinous crimes. Oddly enough, without mentioning it to anybody, especially to Lyle, she wished to see him one last time.
The past week had been extremely slow for her, each hour of each passing day was like a slow death for her. She had been counting down the hours of the clock until midnight. Once the clock struck the twenty-fourth hour, Lyra's inner fears that she had been withholding would be released and she could allow herself to live again.
Birthdays were meant to celebrate one's life, this one would be a punishment on his life. Lyra wanted to weep, let it all out, but she couldn't keep allowing herself to continue being so emotionally fragile any longer.
Sitting outside in the back patio, Lyra read a book of hers. She loves to read and had been doing more so recently, it helped ease her thoughts and focus solely on the written material at hand. The wind was blowing a soft breeze which impacted her bare skin in a very pleasant way, and a fresh glass of soda with ice brought satisfaction to her thirsting mouth. She was trying her best to feel normal, act normal. Trying her best to forget that tomorrow was his birthday, and simply treat it as any other day.
As she continued on reading, Gloom exited the house and approached the older girl, "Hey there. How you doing?"
"Fine."
"...okay."
She knew the truth, but was respectful about her internal dilemma. Taking a seat next to Lyra, Gloom hummed a tune that the brunette was quick to identify.
"Is that Mick Swagger?"
"Yeah. I don't normally listen to rock, but he's got some good hits." Gloom returned a smile, "Guess there is a reason why the classics are well...classics."
"That's nice to know."
Both girls enjoyed each other's company under the full moon. Lyra had some questions to ask Gloom, but they were deemed too personal for her to be asking in the first place. Did Lyle ever mention her before? Did he still enjoy playing the piano which she had taught him how to? Was he interested in staying longer? We're him and Gloom serious enough to contemplate marriage? All personal and somewhat invasive of their privacy, she had no idea why these thoughts were even a thing in the first place. What was wrong with her?
"Lyle loves you." Lyra did a doubletake on that sudden sentence from Gloom.
"W-what?"
"He will never admit it, but he's a real softie and has been proving himself to you since arriving here." Gloom's smile was only deepening Lyra's flustered state.
"We can't... it's wrong!" Lyra sputtered.
Gloom raise an eyebrow and shook her head, "You guys are family. Everything else couldn't or wouldn't waste a minute of their lives to look after you, but he did. That's the reason I fell in love with him, he's so caring for others. You are lucky to have him in your life, he's like a brother to you, I see it now."
Lyra's emotions quickly deflated and now she felt quite stupid for allowing her thoughts to take control of her once again. What was wrong with her? Had she spent too long locked inside a facility were her only form of strange companionship was with her fellow patients who were all too engrossed in their own fucked up personal problems? Had she become so severely touch starved for social interactions that she was now behaving like a giddy schoolgirl around her own cousin? God, she needed so much help. Feeling the embarrassment for herself, she sank deeper into the chair and hid her face behind the book she had been reading. Thank God that he wasn't here at the moment, or she would self-combust.
"Is something wrong?" Gloom asked.
"A lot actually..." Lyra grumbled.
Gloom stares at the full moon above them and contemplates the following words before speaking them out load, "It's almost time. Isn't it?"
"Yeah..." Lyra knew what she was referring to.
Not allowing her emotions to take control again, Lyra cleared her mind of all though, looked up at the sky and whispered just loud enough for Gloom to hear, "Happy birthday, Lemy."
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Royal Woods, Michigan
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Two hours before midnight
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The alcohol was tasteless and too rancid for his taste buds to fully savor. The urge to puke all that brown liquid on the wooden floor was tempting for him, but he had better class than that, Leni didn't raise no drunk. And yet here he was drinking away. Drinking away his sorrows and all negativity from the fact that in a few hours, a day he has come to despise was close at hand. In the past he had chosen to simply ignore this day in particular and treat to as any other, but with Lyra here and Lemy about to be shipped off to an official prison for life, the call for a somber celebration had been accepted by the blond.
"Another one."
The bartender poured him another shot, offering a courteous smile, but keeping an eye on him as well. Lyle was likely going to be too drunk to drive back, so he might as well hope to pass out before he can even get the keys in the ignition. He was also ignoring all the stares and whispers around him, ignoring everyone's presence as he continued to drink in peace.
They all knew by now who he really was and why he was back here after so many years gone. His mission objective in staying incognito had been a busy and now he had to deal with the aftermath of his heritage. Most folks kept their distance, others couldn't resist the temptation to lay out quick remarks at him and his family, others chose to just looked at him with. Their eyes were a mixture of many things- shame, ridicule, disgust and fascination too. They all had a very specific opinion about the notorious Loud Family, none of them ever positive. His family name was a bad omen, even if it was not his patriarch name no longer, it still stung to see his family go through so much shit because of him and too a much lesser extent because of his aunt and uncle who couldn't keep their hands off each other.
"I hope you die in that prison cell." Lyle took another shot of that throat-burning liquor, "Or do us all a favor and kill yourself."
"Rough night son?"
Lyle's eyes followed the voice that had spoken to him, his eyes landing on a man who had claimed the stool next to him. He didn't recognize him, he was certain of that, yet he still felt familiar for some odd reason. They may have brushed shoulders at the local supermarket or stopped at the same red light perhaps, he couldn't place his finger on it. The older man drank from his bottle, then setting it aside as he leaned against the bar.
"So, what's your story?" the casualness that he gave off, caused Lyle to double check his surroundings. Was he being pranked? Who was this guy and did he not know who he, the talk of town, truly was?
"I have no story to tell." the idea of sharing his personal struggles with a complete stranger was ludicrous to Lyle, yet the man remained persistent for an answer.
"Sure you do, why else be drinking all alone on with a foul scowl on your face." the man's humorous tone irked Lyle, but he wasn't wrong with the assumptions. He did not wish to engage in conversation, but he was also not in a hurry to get back home either. Being around Lyra at the moment was too much of a mental debate for him to dare try. It's been awkward around them after that late night talk, he still chooses to believe that it was all his imagination, yet here he was drinking away, trying to forget that encounter as well renew his utter hatred for Lemy too.
"Do I know you or something?"
"No, however, I do know you."
Lyle wasn't even surprised, "Yeah? Is there anything you want to tell me then?" daring the man to speak up, already expecting the usual routine against him.
"...well." there it was, Lyle was bearing his fangs, ready to lash out at this man, ready to hear it all once again. The constant scrutiny that he and his family have had to live under, it never got old, it never was easy to overcome.
"I'm deeply sorry for your family's loss. I do hope your cousin makes a full recovery sooner rather than later." he stated.
Lyle was ready, but not for this. The man's words took him by surprise. "What...? Wait what?" Suddenly he felt so out of place, to hear actual sympathy for once, he began to wonder if the alcohol was finally affecting his brain. Was he hearing things correctly? But despite wishing to believe it so, it was all real to his ears.
"I get it. Must be so utterly baffling to hear those words. Your family has been forced to bare the harshness of this unforgivable social life, they all deserved better than the wrong maltreatment of your own neighbors and such. As for my first remake -I meant every single word."
"Who the fuck are you?" Lyle finally spoke.
The man said nothing at first, all he did was offer Lyle a simple smile. Lyle tried to find a name to match the man's face, but his mental search came up empty handed. Eventually he was given his answer, "An old family friend, Lyle."
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Hexwood Mental Institution
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Midnight
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The hand had just struck twelve, commencing the start of a brand new day. A new day that meant nothing to the hundreds of inhabitants locked up in their own cells. They were all too lost within their own twisted minds to even comprehend their surroundings and even less, the date on the calendar. For one inmate it did mean something, but he showed not a single hint of acknowledgement towards it. He just rested on his bed wide awake, eyes on the ceiling with a featureless expression on him.
As the night progressed, the bellowing of his fellow inmates had shimmered down, just the occasional ranting or indescribable yelling here and there. Hearing footsteps approaching, he shifted his body from the mattress, now sitting upwards and facing the door.
A guard working the night shift walked by his cell. He momentarily stopped to glance at the quite inmate, "You still up Loud? I've never seen you sleep, hell, none of us have ever seen you do jackshit."
Lemy remained quiet. His eyes now focused on the man on the other side of the door. He never spoke, never ate, never worked out or attempted to show that he was socially all there. Yet, according to Dr. McBride, he was fully aware of surroundings and very active, Lemy simply chose to not be seen doing said things. Standing at six feet and three inches and a well built body, Lemy had grown up so much during his decade long lock up. He had a stubble of facial hair growing out, grooming was a requirement in Hexwood and he had to be shaved once every two weeks. The first time he had broken an orderly's hand and the second incident involved a slit throat that required fourteen stitches and six months of solitary confinement.
"Not sure if you are even aware of this but guess what day it is?" the guard leaned against the door, "It's that time of the year, so congratulations birthday boy. Another year rotting in this shit hole. Any wishes?"
To his surprise, Lemy stood up and slowly approached the door, his face obscured by the darkness of the room. This was an interesting development as Lemy was normally absolutely nonresponsive. The guard remained still, curious to hear him actually speak, wondering what the young man's actual voice sounded like. What followed next surprised the man.
"...Happy Halloween." Lemy's voice was low, and extremely monotone, just as he had pictured it in his head.
There was a pregnant pause between Lemy and the night guard after those words got spoken by the former. Before the older man could give a rebuttal Lemy raised his right leg up and using his entire body's strength and momentum he kicked the door frame off it's hinges. Crushed underneath the heavy door, the guard reached for his radio or mace, whatever he could grab first to help his situation. Lemy walked out his cell and kicked the man square in the head. One kick wasn't sufficient for the young murderer, so he stomped on the guard's head multiple times until, crushing his skull in-between his foot and the hard concrete floor. A pool of blood leaked out as the man's entire face had been caved in.
Lemy kneels down and grabbed the baton of the dead guard before turning around and headed down the corridor where shouting was being heard. A pair of guards came rushing at his direction, batons at the ready. Lemy didn't slow down as they rushed him. The first one swung his baton, but Lemy sidestepped and bashed the guard in the back of the head. The other guard went for his knees, but Lemy struck his hand before he could connect. Dropping the baton, the guard yelped in pain as he nursed his hand, Lemy took the opportunity to strike the man directly in the forehead. Blood spurting out from the harsh blow, Lemy didn't stop and continued to hit the man repeatedly over the bead with the baton. Only stopping as the other guard struck him from behind.
Lemy was not fazed by the blow to his back. Turning around he hit the first guard in the midsection, taking the wind out of him. Grabbing his arm, Lemy bend it backwards until it broke. As the guard screamed in agonizing pain, Lemy shoved him against the wall and merciless bashed his head against the bricked wall. Once he was done, a massive splatter of blood decorated the once greyish colored wall and the man's corpse was carelessly dropped to the floor.
The intercom system had rang an alarm as the cameras captured Lemy's escape and violent murders. The entire building was fully alerted, but he did not care, solely focused on following the path ahead. The screams of all the other inmates became a choir of chaos as he made his way through the facility.
Along the way an orderly ran into him, Lemy grabbed him by the throat, raising him up in the air before slamming him down on the floor. He grabbed a nearby mop and broke it in half, impaling the orderly with one half then walking away with the other. The further he walked the more he found himself in the presence of more opposition. They all ended dead by his hands, every single one of them. Soon enough he found himself in the control room of the facility, breaking in and killing the guard that had been cowering inside.
Reading all of the buttons and switches, Lemy followed the sequence and once he inserted the key he took from the guard he activated the system connecting most cells. With the single press of a button, Lemy had opened up the cell doors of at least fifty inmates in the eastern wing of the building. With that done he walked out and made his way to the outside.
Outside one of the female nurses had been on a smoke break when the breakout occurred, and the alarm raised. Initially unable to hear the commotion due to her having raised the volume of her radio, she was completely oblivious to the chaos happening inside her place of work. As she smoked a cigarette and sang to a pop song failed to notice an approaching silhouette.
Without warning the driver's door was yanked open, startling her out of her hypnotic musical serenity. Lemy grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her out the car. The young nurse screamed out for help, but it was just them two in the empty parking lot. As he held her by the hair, Lemy without warning brought his foot down on her knee, breaking it, and causing her leg to be bend sideways. Immobile and in immense pain she did her best to crawl away from him.
Lemy did not go after her, he quietly watched her drag herself across the parking lot. He ignored her and entered the vehicle. Turning the engine on, he turned on the headlights and switched the car to drive. Slowly steering the wheel, Lemy maneuvered the car to be directly in front of the injured nurse, who was still trying to flee. Roaring the engine a few times he stepped on the gas pedal and drove directly at her.
In the aftermath of the massacre/riot, around a dozen inmates had breached the facility's perimeter while the rest got rounded up back to their respective cells. Multiple injured and many fatalities in a single night. The sheriff's department began a manhunt for the inmates still at large and sent out distress calls to all surrounding settlements. A screwdriver was found hidden inside Lemy's cell, he had used it to unscrew the bolts of the door's hinges. Dr. McBride was called upon regarding his escapes patient but his house phone was always sending everyone to voicemail.
A single car drove down the dark lonely road. It passed a sign stating that the town of Royal Woods was just up ahead for another 40 miles.