Dr Stark stood in her office, looking out towards the guard's desk where William and Jordan were currently sitting. Before she could stop herself, her eyes had wandered to the door of the high security cell at the end of the corridor and the two-armed guards, armed with real guns, standing on either side of it.
Gemma stark despite being an experienced doctor and psychiatrist, couldn't stop the shiver which went down her spine at the side of that door and the thought of who currently was behind it. The cell hadn't been used for three years and was only used for the most dangerous patients. This guy made Michael Myers, Derek Chancer, Chadwick and all the rest of them look kind. Dr Stark had been reluctant to allow this man in the ward. Dr Loomis had spoken to her at length by phone from Haddonfield, telling her why they had to do it. Two additional doctors Dr Evans and Dr Radar had been temporarily reassigned to the MSU, purely to help care for him, along with three additional guards.
His name was Charlie Greggory, and he was one of the most dangerous criminals in the world. He was from the US, but had attacked in Europe and Africa too, making him infamous worldwide. The press had given him a nickname of course, which Dr Stark hated but which she also couldn't deny was accurate. The Cannable killer.
Greggory was just that, a Cannable. But his MO extended much further than that. He would grab lone women out at night and sexually assault them. The problem was, he did it in such a way it made them feel good. He would proposition them for sex and if they consented, he would finger them and lick them out to climax, before fucking them. If they didn't consent however, that was a different story. He would pretend he was asking, but he was telling. They were going to have sex with him one way or the other. But if they consented, they got pleasure out of it too. The one thing he didn't tell them however was that sexual pleasure would be the last pleasure of their lives.
After he'd raped or had sex with them consensually, (more often raped) he would slit their throats with a knife, making the actual death as quick as he could. He'd take them back to his house and they'd fuck in his bedroom, before he'd slit their throats and take them down to his basement.
It looked just like a kitchen and indeed it was, it just had human flesh on the menu. He would drag in his latest victim and cut them up with deadly sharp knives, before starting to cook some of their organs. The brain had fast become his favourite.
The kitchen was in his house in the USA where most of his victims were, but that didn't mean his record didn't extend outside of the United States. He'd also attacked women in Africa and Europe. He didn't just attack women though, he also targeted men. The only difference with them was there was no sexual activity before their death. Greggory would often tell them he needed help with carrying or moving something or help them if they were working on something themselves. He would then find a way to lure them to a secluded location and slit their throats.
If a person was dead before reaching his house, he would load them into his vehicle and drive them there. He enjoyed cooking men in his kitchen as much as women. Although the sex with women before they died was a bonus.
In Africa he'd cooked them over campfires in the huge stretches of rural wilderness and once or twice in Europe, he'd eaten victims raw. To him, raw or cooked people tasted good, but cooked was better as far as he was concerned. He didn't however target children.
Unfortunately, he'd finally been caught two weeks ago and held in a maximum-security prison, while lawyers argued back and forth about where he would go. Eventually he was admitted to Smith's Grove. It came as no surprise to him he was now in the maximum-security cell, with two armed guards standing either side of the locked entrance door. This made Greggory laugh inwardly. It wasn't like he could get out; the fucking door was locked. In fact, Greggory suspected it was more to protect others than to keep him away. They clearly didn't want unarmed people anywhere near him, not even the door he was locked behind.
Everything in the cell from the toilet to the desk was securely bolted down to the floor. He'd been told he would only be allowed in the exercise yard at night, when everyone else was asleep. So, if he wanted his exercise, he'd have to be willing to get up in the middle of the night. Greggory half suspected this was punishment for his crimes, but maybe it was in fact to protect the rest of the population. Whatever it was he didn't care, if he got his exercise. They weren't violating his rights!
The main problem for him was he was getting hungry, and not for food. He wanted flesh, human flesh. But it was fast becoming clear to him that he would have to wait, very patiently at that, to get any. All his meals were delivered through a hatch in the door, the door was never opened until he was handcuffed, and leg shackled, a lower hatch in the door allowed guards to apply the leg irons, in such a way that his mouth was never near any of them. They'd already warned him they had a guard for his mouth which would be applied whenever he was out of his cell, if he made even one attempt on anyone, he only got one chance. On this, he believed them.
He didn't know who he was sharing the ward with, nor did he care. They weren't locked up like an animal like he was, but then, he mused, to them he was an animal. He ate humans for fuck's sake! How much more of an animal could one get? As much as he hated it, he of course knew why they were taking all these precautions against him. Nor would he be able to blame them if he was one of the guards out there.
He strongly believed some court judge somewhere was trying their damn best to have him executed, and again he wasn't surprised. But for now, some stupid high and mighty doctor thought they could treat him. It almost made him laugh.
Every doctor's session was conducted from within his cell, the doctor talking to him via a speaker system from another room. There wasn't even a screen so he could see who he was talking to. It appears they were trying to limit him from face-to-face contact with people as much as possible and again, that made sense. They of course didn't want to risk getting eaten, alive.
…
Detective Ray Peters sat in his squad car, silently seething as he stared into his steaming coffee. Even the sight of the heavy silver flask with RP engraved on it, a custom made present from his wife for his birthday didn't soften his current mood. This investigation was going nowhere. They were dealing with a headless corpse, plus a man who'd died of having his throat slit, and no one was coming up with damn answers!
Yes, it was true the men involved had both been misogynistic pricks and Peters wouldn't miss either of them, but the fact was they'd still been murdered in very violent and bloody ways and the Haddonfield PD had no evidence to convict anyone! The only DNA all over the house where it'd happened belonged to the six men who'd been there that night and the girl they'd snatched, Danielle Hayward.
Ray knew about Hayward's case; the whole world probably did the trial had been incredibly high profile. But Hayward was now safely back at Smith's Grove and there was no evidence linking her to the killings. Plus, Peters knew she was totally blind, so would she be able to cut a head off that cleanly or slit a man's throat? Highly doubtful. Not to mention she had been seriously injured in the kidnap and assault so wouldn't have been strong enough to do it.
Peters rubbed an exhausted hand across his eyes. He was tired and just wanted to go home to his family. But the fact was he couldn't, not while such high pressure remained on him and his department to complete this investigation. It wasn't even because the men would be missed, they were public enemy number one of Haddonfield and not without good reason, but because the residents of Haddonfield wanted to know they were safe and not at risk of being murdered themselves. Yeah, Peters had thought humourlessly. Making sure we're not facing Michael Myers all over again.
Peters had been 20 in 1978 and had no desire to relive the experience. He'd been one of the first officers on the first crime scene and doubted he'd ever forget the horrors Myers had left in his wake. When he'd heard Myers had been apprehended and was now back in Smith's Grove, Peters had breathed a huge sigh of relief. They'd make damn sure he couldn't escape this time at the risk of the place being shut down, Peters would make very sure of it if anything like this happened again. Not to mention how the hell had Myers even got out and stolen the Smith's Grove vehicle? He shivered. It didn't bear thinking about. They weren't dealing with Michael Myers this time though, that thought was completely insane.
"You need to go to bed Ray," Peters muttered out loud. "You're imagining things now."
At that moment, the driver's door of the vehicle opened, and Officer James Rickets climbed in. Peters barely looked round at him.
"You'd better have some good news for me Junior," he snapped.
Due to James' initials, he'd been dubbed, "Junior," by the entire station but took it in his stride and good naturedly. Today though, it really did feel like a jab. He took a deep breath, determined not to piss his boss off even further than he clearly already was.
"Sorry Sir," he said with a tired sigh. "I'm not getting much further than you guys are."
"How the fuck can that be?" Peters stormed. "We've got a fucking beheaded corpse in front of us Rickets! Not to mention a man with his throat slit, and you're telling me we're not getting anywhere?"
"It's the evidence, Sir," Rickets said. "The lack of DNA. We can't find anything linking anyone to these killings."
"What in God's name do you mean you can't find anything? There were loads of fucking men in that house, including the Smith's Grove guards who had fucking guns on them as they rescued her! How the fuck can we not have DNA linking someone to the murder? Have you considered it might be one of the damn guards? Retaliation is a pretty good fucking motive, wouldn't you say? Or on her behalf? She fucking hated Dawson, ok she had good reason but he's still fucking murdered!"
Rickets shook his head. "It wasn't one of the guards Sir, they were covering the prisoners with their guns right up until we got there."
Peters snorted. "Right. So how do we know there weren't more guards there to protect her? Fucking hell Rickets! What? You think Michael fucking Myers came back to Haddonfield or something? Jesus Christ!"
Rickets who was only 19 hadn't been born when the infamous masked serial killer had terrorised his hometown, so Peters knew he couldn't and would never understand just how scary Michael Myers had been in 1978, or the killing of his sister in 1963, except for the news coverage he may have read which, of course left a lot of things out.
"Michael… Myers?" The young officer frowned. "Wasn't that the masked guy who killed his sister in 1963 and a group of teens and adults in… when was it? 1979?"
"1978," Peters corrected. "He's locked up in that nut house Smith's Grove, or the "state mental hospital,"" he sketched air quotes around the last three words. "The same place where she is. There's no God damn way Michael Myers came back! Hell, he and Hayward probably don't even know each other! He'd kill her stupidly easily, she's totally blind for fuck's sake! Easiest kill he'd ever have!"
Rickets nodded but didn't speak.
"Even if he did meet her," Peters continued, determined to finish off his rant. "There's no fucking way he would ever escape, she came down to Haddonfield because her friend got hit in a hit and run, which we believe Dawson was responsible for, if only we could fucking prove it! But Michael Myers? He'd never get out of there, never. He's escaped once already! I'd imagine security is a lot tighter now, a hell of a lot tighter."
"So… what?" Rickets said slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to anger his boss even further.
"So what?" Peters stared at him in disbelief. "The point is, Junior, that someone chopped Adam Dawson's fucking head off! Do you hear me? Chopped, his, head, off! Who the fuck would do that? Ok we hated the misogynistic bastard, but he was still murdered, and we must find out how, it's our damn job!"
Rickets swallowed, his throat giving an audible click. "Do… do they know where… where it is now?"
"What, his head?" Peters laughed mercilessly. "Not a fucking clue and we need to find it!"
"What about the… the rest of him?"
"Was still lying in the house. Speaking of which, Ashley Griffin, the second in command misogynist leader is also dead, throat slit. You think one of the guards would do that? Ok perhaps Adam, but why Golding? For all they knew he had nothing to do with it!"
"Didn't they find a woman locked in the basement, who told us Ashley had abused her for years? Like we're talking rape, locking her up, chains, the works?"
"Yes," Peters nodded. "But are you surprised? He's a misogynist gang deputy leader!"
Rickets nodded. "So, what's next, Sir?"
"I need you to go into IL state prison MSU. I need you to speak to Josh Culshaw."
"Josh," Rickets swallowed again. Damn he hated showing weakness to his boss, but right then he felt like the rookie he was. "Josh Culshaw?"
He knew all too well about the Misogyny leader's reputation; he made Ashley look like a gentleman to women. The acts he committed against them had been pure evil and Rickets hoped to never meet him after hearing his name in the station. He braced himself, expecting another rant. To his utter surprise however, Peters leaned forward so they had eye contact, then laid a hand on his subordinate's shoulder.
"Listen James," he said softly, and Rickets noticed the use of his first name and lack of his unfortunate nickname.' "You'll be perfectly safe, he'll be behind a security grill, cuffed and leg shackled. He won't be able to touch you, the most he'll be able to do is taunt you. You're stronger than him son, you're too experienced to let a rat like that get under your skin."
"Thank you, Sir," Rickets said, sincerely grateful. "It's just… that guy hurt friends of mine, he badly injured one of my friends' partners. I don't know if I… I want to see him never mind can."
"We need information on Ashley," Peters said, his voice still gentle. "We need to know who his family are, who we can contact, we still have to tell them he's deceased."
"Good fucking riddance," Rickets muttered. Peters didn't reprimand him.
"I obviously can't send one of the women in there," Peters continued. "I do have other male officers, but I think you're the best for this job James."
"Why, Sir?" Rickets asked before he could stop himself. "Why me?"
"Because you're young, trustworthy and Ashley doesn't know you. Any other of our officers he'd realise it in a heartbeat, also he knows most of them as they helped in his arrest."
"So," Rickets said slowly, before taking a deep breath. "Are you saying you want me to go in under cover?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Peters confirmed. "The only question I have now James is, will you, do it?
…
By the time the six of them finally got back to Smith's Grove, Danielle was beyond exhausted. They'd endured a little turbulence on the flight back, which she hated. The bus journey back from the local airport had been a lot smoother and quicker, and if she was honest all she wanted right now was to crawl into bed and sleep.
As they entered, she heard running footsteps coming towards them.
"Thank God!" It was Dr Stark's voice. She felt her heart lift as her doctor reached her and she was surprised but absurdly touched, when Dr Stark pulled her into a hug.
"Oh my God! How are you? I don't want you to talk about it right now unless you want to, but I'm so glad you're safe!"
"Here here," Joanne, Rick and Jack said together.
"Agreed," Dr Loomis added.
"I'm ok," she gave her doctor's hand a squeeze. "Just absolutely fucking exhausted!"
"I'm not surprised," Dr Stark said with a chuckle. "I've also heard you're really good news; Avery I believe your name is now?"
Now she did smile, she couldn't help it. "Wow that got out quick," she pretended to grab Dr Loomis' arm accusingly. "How could you! Before I even get back? So unfair! That was my news!"
Everyone laughed, Dr Loomis chuckled apologetically. "Sorry, but I was just as pleased as you are, so glad to tell my esteemed colleague here."
"Indeed," Dr Stark said. "So happy for you. You deserve happiness."
"Thanks," she felt herself blushing although wasn't sure why.
"I just need a quick word with you in my office, if that's ok. I promise it'll be quick, then you can crawl into bed if you want, and I'll also bring you a hot chocolate with marsh mallows, whipped cream, the works. I promise."
"Damn!" she groaned. "You knew I wouldn't be able to resist that! Ok, I'll hold you to that, deal."
Michael made to release her arm as he'd guided her in, but Dr Stark shook her head. "Actually Michael, I would like you to hear this too, I think it would help. Joanne, would you mind coming as well?"
"Sure thing," Joanne nodded. They headed down the corridor, her still being guided by Michael. As they did so, she couldn't help thinking what were the odds? Michael Myers would no sooner have guided her a year ago than slashed her to pieces with his famous knife. Yet now he was guiding her down a corridor, she was trusting him to do so, she loved him, and he loved her, they were a couple. Not to mention if she'd had her way back then she would've been dead.
They entered Dr Stark's office, and the consultant closed the door. They sat on one side of her desk, Dr Stark and Joanne on the other.
"I know you weren't terribly keen on coming back here," Dr Stark began. "But from my perspective I'm glad to see you again, apart from anything else because that proves to me, you're safe after going through such a terrible ordeal. But when Dave and Emma, your mom and dad," she stressed the last four words and saw Danielle's smile. "Asked me if I would treat you further post this, I agreed immediately. You know, they even offered to pay me to do it. I refused."
"I know, I can't thank you enough for that. I know my first lot of treatment was paid for by Smith's Grove due to what'd happened and my attempted suicide, but you didn't have to let me back in at all, not without charge. Once a patient leaves, that's it as far as free goes, right?"
"Indeed, it is," Dr Stark confirmed. "But you see what I'm saying? I didn't want them to pay, because I care about you. I want to help you and make sure you're ok, be here if you need some ears," again she stressed the last word. Joanne moved her head, so Danielle touched her ears and she, Joanne and Dr Stark all laughed.
"Yep, ears," Dr Stark said, standing and coming to Danielle's side, allowing her to touch hers too. Danielle could hear she was still grinning. "But seriously, if you need someone with ears, yes ears, to listen to you, I'm here."
"As am I," Joanne said, just as Michael squeezed her hand. She knew it was his silent agreement.
"Thanks," she said sincerely, smiling at all three of them. "I really, really appreciate that."
"We can talk tomorrow, or the next day, whenever you're ready," Dr Stark continued. "But I would like to talk to you at least once before you leave for the second time."
"Sure, you and Joanne were the main reason I came back Dr Stark, because I want to talk to you about what happened. I just… I'm not ready yet."
"Main reason bull," Dr Stark and Joanne said in unison, and she went bright red. Even her ears were burning.
"Ok, one of the main reasons, she amended.
"As for wanting to talk to me and wanting to come back to do so, thank you, I really appreciate that."
"You're amazing at your job Dr Stark, you know how to get through to people, while making them feel good about themselves at the same time. I had a psychiatrist once right after my attempted suicide, you know in the actual hospital, and I just ended up feeling like someone had taken a mental chainsaw to my brain. My head was killing me, and I didn't think she'd achieved anything. You know they even tried to assign me to a male Psychiatrist? Given what I was there for? They didn't even seem to twig that I was avoiding men like the fucking plague! Sorry Michael," she added with a smile. She heard the other two women chuckle and again Michael squeezed her hand.
"But the female was just… terrible," Danielle continued. "I felt like she was just ticking boxes on a sheet of paper and wasn't concerned about the patient in front of her at all. With you Dr Stark I don't get that impression, I think you really, truly care about the people you treat for whatever mental illness they may have. Whether it's a desire to…" she hesitated for a second. "Kill, or a violent sex offender, or whatever, you try to do your genuine best for them. Yes, I imagine you probably do have a lot of paperwork you have to fill out on me, but… you know, I don't feel like the paper is a necessity, I think for you it's more of an inconvenience, you're more concerned about people, not paper."
"Thank you," Dr Stark took her free hand and squeezed it. "That means a lot to me sweetheart."
"It's true," she insisted. Then she turned to Joanne. "I know you weren't sure at first about guarding a blind person, but you were honest enough and told me that recently. I respect you for that, I do," she added, because Joanne had made a scoffing noise. "I'm serious, I do. You could've refused, or treated me like shit, but you didn't. You gave me the benefit of the doubt and gave me at least a chance and I now think a hell of a lot of you for that."
"I still feel bad," Joanne said. "I made it sound like you were an alien from outa space or something."
"I do have that reputation, but seriously Dr Stark, Joanne, I came back here of course because of Michael too, but also to see you both for a bit longer. Dr Stark, I want you to know what happened, I do. I just… I need some sleep and to think about how I am going to tell my story."
"Of course. But I do have to ask, do you have any idea at all how Adam lost his head?"
"What?" she slapped a hand against her heart. "He lost his head. When? I never saw that!" Where is it? Did they find it? Did it roll away?"
Joanne tried to stop herself but couldn't and burst out laughing. Dr Stark joined her.
"You're terrible," Joanne gasped. "Oh my God my stomach hurts!"
"That was funny," Dr Stark said.
"Sorry, of course I know how it happened, and so do you."
"Indeed," Joanne said. "Well fucking done Michael!"
"I'm afraid there's part of me which agrees," Dr Stark said. "Someone who can abuse and rape two women, drive one to suicide and then be responsible for the attempted murder of the second, deserves execution in my eyes. It would have taken one of you dying for him to face execution by this damn state. It also would've had to have been Charlotte, so they had first degree murder in front of them, rather than suicide."
"Yeah," Danielle snarled. "Michael deals out justice better than this state does!"
"I have to agree too," Joanne said.
Now Dr Stark reached forward, touching her hand again. "But that's not all. This is not the main but is the most important reason why I needed to call you in here tonight. I'm not sure if you ever found this out while you were here, but at the very end of the corridor to MSU is a high security cell. Well, it's maximum. Everything is bolted down, two armed guards stand outside the door twenty-four hours a day, armed with real guns. The door only opens electronically and can only be controlled from Dr Loomis' office or the guard towers."
"Let me guess, someone's in there now?"
"Yes," Dr Stark confirmed. "I can't and don't want to go into details but trust me you're better off not knowing even if I could tell you. The door has two hatches which also open electronically, they can be controlled by the guards here, but the main door can't. The armed guards must radio when they need it opened. The reason there are two hatches is to enable giving food, and to apply handcuffs. You see, the bottom hatch is at the correct hight for leg shackles to be attached. The person in there will be handcuffed and leg shackled everywhere they go outside the cell. They will have all meals in there, will not interact with anyone else in the hospital patient wise and they can only go into the exercise yard at night when everyone else is asleep. They also must have the two-armed guards with them everywhere they go, as well as one of our guards. You may hear some unfamiliar voices, they are the four-armed guards brought in purely for them, three extra unarmed ones and two doctors, Dr Evans and Dr Radar."
She nodded and absorbed this information, waiting for her doctor to continue.
"The point is, whenever this person is led out, they must not see you. That's vital. So, if you hear the whirring of the electronic hatches opening and you are standing anywhere near the door, I must please ask you to move away immediately. I don't want to give you an order, but in this case I'm afraid I must."
"That's ok Dr Stark," she reached forward, and the doctor took her hand. "I trust you completely now, of course I do and would obey any order you, Joanne, Rick, Jack or Dr Loomis, hell any of your guards gave me."
"Thank you," Dr Stark sounded near tears. "This is why I asked you to be here Michael, I wanted you to know this too, but also, I know you will protect Danielle. If you would keep an eye on her and if she is near the door when the hatches open, move her bac I would be very grateful." Michael must have nodded because Dr Stark said, "Thank you."
Danielle once again reflected how the old her would've hated this, finding it patronising and irritating. Now, she felt a lump of gratitude and affection rise in her throat for all three of them.
…
When they finally got back to their cell which was exactly as Danielle had last left it, Dr Stark was as good as her word handing her a hot chocolate and Michael a black coffee. Once the door was closed, she lay down on the bed, while Michael sat at the desk. She didn't try to speak to him assuming he just wanted some space. She couldn't blame him, he'd been kind enough to come all the way to Haddonfield with her the first time, then came back when Adam had kidnapped her. It was hardly surprising he wanted a few moments to himself. Plus, after everything Adam had done, insecure, possessive and jealous were the very last things she wanted to come across as being. So, she just sipped her hot chocolate and put a book on with headphones on. She would not try to talk to Michael until he came to her.
As night drew in, Michael still hadn't approached her. At just past 1AM she finally stood and approached the desk.
"Michael?" She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Darling, are you ok?"
There was silence, he didn't respond in any way. Again, she didn't think anything of it, just that he still wanted space. He didn't shrug her hand off his shoulder though, which she took as a good sign.
"I'm going to bed," she murmured. "I'm exhausted. You're not going to sleep there are you?"
Again, no response. She sighed softly and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good night, Michael, I love you."
Releasing his shoulder, she headed back to the bed. The corridor was completely silent, and she hoped it would stay so long enough for her to get to sleep. Now though came her next real and scary prospect, sleep. In the hospital she'd been heavily sedated with sleeping pills and pain medication, which had helped her sleep. Now though it was natural sleep, with absolutely nothing to hold back the nightmares she was sure would flood in as soon as she allowed sleep to take her.
She took a slow deep breath and released it. There was no way she could or would let Adam have control over her from beyond the grave. He was dead, and she had to start living as a free woman at last.
But his ghost, now that was another matter. She had never been a strong believer in the supernatural or paranormal, but she had a horrible feeling Adam Dawson's ghost would haunt her in any way he could. He would be out for revenge due to her daring to escape him and getting his head chopped off.
In that moment, she realised she was afraid of sleep. She now did find herself wishing Michael was lying at her side, just to know he was there. She knew that was crazy as he was only across the tiny room, but the thought wouldn't go away.
After a few seconds hesitation, she pressed the call button.
"Hi it's Mel. So glad you're safe! Are you ok?"
She stood up and approached the bars, better to talk to the guard. "I'm scared to close my eyes," she admitted. "I'm actually scared to sleep right now."
"Michael's right there with you," Mel reminded her gently. "You're safe now, nothing else can happen to you, not to mention your tormentor is deceased."
"I know," finally she felt the oncoming rush of tears. She blinked fast but lost the battle.
"Oh sweetheart," Mel opened the cell door and pulled her into a hug. "It's ok, it's ok. You're ok now. Do you want me to ask Dr Stark for a sleeping pill?"
"I can't keep relying on drugs to help me sleep," she insisted, but even to her ears it sounded like a weak argument.
"But it's very early days," Mel murmured. "You might need them for a while and if you do there's no shame in that at all. These things take time to recover from, sometimes a lot."
"You should be a Doctor Mel," came Dr Stark's voice. How did she do that? she wondered, just appear like magic when she was needed. "Those are wise words, and 100% accurate. Take this sleeping pill please."
Danielle meekly nodded, taking the glass of water and small pill Dr Stark handed her. "It's his ghost," she breathed to her doctor and Mel. "I don't believe in ghosts usually, but Adam Dawson's? Oh my God! He'll haunt me from beyond the grave in whatever way he can, I just know it! That's why I'm so scared to close my damn eyes! Because as soon as I sleep bang! He'll be there, waiting for me! I know that's fucking stupid, but…"
"Stop it!" Dr Stark said, in the firmest tone she'd ever heard her use. "Stop it! It's not stupid, it's a legitimate, genuine fear and you are not blamed at all for feeling it! So, I don't want to hear you say that again, understand?"
"That's you told," Mel squeezed her again.
"Sorry Dr Stark."
That was when she finally heard it. Michael softly sighed and stood up, approaching her and pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and tried to smile, but just ended up breaking down in tears all over again.
"But that's all he has left," Mel murmured. "His ghost. He can't hit you again, can't sexually assault you again, can't make you call him… that word again, or rule your life anymore!"
"Well said!" Dr Stark said firmly.
She appreciated Mel not saying sir, which she knew was the word they were all thinking of. She knew the question was stupid, but she couldn't help asking it. "Do you believe in the Supernatural Mel, Dr Stark?"
Michael tightened his embrace then and leant down, so she was touching his ears. Now she did try to smile and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Thanks," she whispered.
Mel appeared to be considering her question. "Um, I'm not sure. I've never really had an experience which tells me they are real, but nor have I had reason to doubt it."
"Hmm," Dr Stark said slowly. "I'm not sure to be honest with you, but I'm certainly not dismissing what you're feeling. That's why I'm telling you to take that sleeping pill and try and get some sleep."
"Well said," Mel agreed. Dr Stark squeezed her hand as did Mel, before the two of them walked away out of the block door.
She slumped into the desk chair feeling exhausted, but knowing that sleeping pill or not, she wouldn't be able to close her eyes anytime soon.
It was then she sensed Michael standing at her side, before his hand touched her shoulder. She tried to smile at him but something within her, perhaps after everything Adam had, 'taught' her, told her he was still angry. If only she knew why… As if on cue, her phone buzzed with a text. It was indeed from him.
He loves you, and not as a brother should.
It took her a few seconds for her brain to process the words on her screen. She read it once then twice, before turning her head towards him. "Huh?" She was utterly confused. "What on earth are you talking about? Are you referring to Colin?"
Unless you have another brother I do not yet know about, who else would it be?
She blinked fast. Not once in all her time at Smith's Grove had she told anyone about her older brother John. At the age of just 14, he'd helped her out in so many ways when their parents refused to do so. He had been seriously protective of her, even after their parents had abandoned her. He'd apparently been furious, but nothing he said had changed their minds. He'd still stood by her, constantly trying to help her and show her love and affection. That was until he'd drowned in a boating accident.
She forced herself back to the present. The last thing she needed to do was think about John just now. "Not still alive," she muttered. "But what do you mean Colin loves me, and not as a brother should?" She continued quickly determined to change the subject. She could not, would not discuss John right then, it was too painful on top of everything else that'd happened lately.
If Michael noticed her hesitation and heard her words, he didn't acknowledge them. That too showed her he was angry and now the reason why was starting to make sense. Had Colin said something to him while they'd been in Haddonfield?
"Did he tell you that?" She asked Michael quietly. She could not believe Colin would be so insensitive, selfish or stupid, especially while Charlotte was lying in a coma in a hospital bed.
How else would I know this?
"Quit with the rhetorical questions, will you?" She'd snapped before she could stop herself. She was tired, still in some pain and this was the last thing she needed. She took a deep breath. "When?"
At the hospital of course, where else? He's loved you for years, said if I did anything to hurt you, he would fight me to the death.
She felt herself shiver. She just knew there was a nasty smile on Michael's face, she felt her blood turn to ice. Did Colin Avery have a death wish? But at the same time, she could now feel anger starting to build towards her second brother. How the fuck dare he? If he'd loved her for years as Michael said he'd told him, why the hell hadn't he come to her about it? Going to Michael had been a cowardly and antagonistic thing to do, especially while Charlotte was so ill. Talk about petty! Plus, if he really had cared, where the fuck was, he when Adam had done what he had? Why hadn't he told her during the trial or something? He couldn't face her, so he'd gone to Michael.
"But" she began slowly. "Why are you blaming me for this? What? You think I'm just going to jump into Colin's arms as soon as I know how he feels? Michael, I might have known him for years, but you earned my trust, earned and stole my heart. It doesn't matter if I've known Colin for fifteen minutes or fifteen years! I love you, Michael and I have absolutely no intention of changing that. If Colin did indeed tell you that, that was a very cowardly thing to do! Colin had plenty of time to tell me if he felt that way and he never did. So quite honestly? That's his damn loss! You don't have to worry about that! I'm not going anywhere Michael, I'm yours for life."
Are you doubting what I'm telling you? If Colin said this?
She sighed. "No darling, I'm just making the point that it makes absolutely no difference. I love you, that's all there is to it, end of story. So please, don't worry about what Colin said, it doesn't change a thing.
How do I know this? Can I trust what you are telling me?
She felt tears start to fall. She had vowed to herself when they fell in love that she would never be jealous or insecure of him. Now however, she was seeing the very thing she wanted to avoid from Michael. But it didn't make her angry, it made her heart ache for him. Now she did stand and take his hand. He didn't pull his away, but neither did he hold hers back.
"Darling," her voice shook with tears. "I totally understand where you're coming from. Don't forget I don't trust easy either. Please, you need to work with me here and believe what I'm telling you. Trust me, I'm scared, I need to learn security just the same as you do. Neither of us know love well at all, having never experienced it albeit for highly different reasons. But we can relate to each other in that regard, this is why I really need you to trust me, just as I am learning to trust you. I'll say it again. I don't care if Colin's had feelings for me for fifteen minutes or fifteen years. I'm taken and him telling you that was wrong and fucking selfish! I'll be having a word with him, make no mistake about that. Just unbelievable." She shook her head in anger and disgust. She loved Colin dearly, but right now she really didn't like him at all.
Do what you feel you need to. I am leaving for the night. We will communicate tomorrow and depending on its outcome, I may return to you tomorrow night.
She felt as though her heart had been ripped roar out of her chest and she'd been punched in the face. But she wasn't going to plead with him not to, she had to respect his wishes. All she could do was nod, as she now finally did give into tears.
She felt him walk past her, heading towards the call button. All she could hope for now was that the sleeping pill Dr Stark had just given her would knock her into oblivion quickly. It was the only thing which would get her through this. Right then, she really wanted to text Colin and let go. He wouldn't know what hit him. She was going to do just that before she took her sleeping pill. How the fuck could he do that to them? Was he really that jealous? It wasn't like he hadn't had a lot of time to tell her this before she even knew Michael!
She took a deep breath and prepared to stand, but before she could, she felt Michael's hand clamp tightly on her left upper arm and pull her not exactly gently to her feet. At that moment, she felt the true strength of the masked serial killer Michael was. She felt her blood turn even colder and fear shoot through her very soul. That was when she heard it. The beep, whirring of an electronic hatch, then shackles being applied. Now, she understood. Michael was pulling her away from the door, as Dr Stark had asked him to do. She staggered and tried desperately to keep her balance but fell and hit the soft wall headfirst. Her legs were shaking badly.
"Thank you, Sir," she said automatically, as pain shot up her arm into her shoulder from his grip. Her left shoulder had been dislocated during Adam's assault and was still healing. She felt perspiration running down her forehead and black spots danced in front of her. Her hearing went muffled. Shit, she was going to faint. She lowered her head, trying to take deep breaths. It wasn't Michael's fault he was angry and the last thing she wanted to do was make him feel bad for it, he was angry and rightly so. But her fear had spiked from his obvious rage.
It was then she heard the block door open and someone running towards her. Did someone know she was in trouble? Michael's anger was making her afraid, and she wasn't going to forget the lesson Adam had 'taught' her anytime soon.
As consciousness began to leave her, she heard words she was sure were fear induced and due to her fast approaching the darkness.
"Do we need to use a mouth guard Greggory?" She heard a guard snap, then a gravelly laugh and voice full of pure evil.
"No, I'm not hungry enough yet, plus you ain't my type, son! You're too thin, I like 'em fat. I'll find someone else to eat!"
Danielle was sure she was having a nightmare, she had to be! She could feel the scream coming out of her mouth before it did. It was a high sound of pure and utter terror. Because the man in the MS cell was none other than Charlie Greggory himself, the God Damn Cannable. A second later, the darkness took her.
…
"Thank you," Danielle said, as Adam handed over her cane. Instantly she felt him tense and knew she was in trouble.
"Excuse me?" Adam's voice was dangerously quiet. "I think you forgot the magic word?"
She was genuinely confused. "Sorry?"
"SIR!" Adam yelled, grabbing her by the ears and dragging her up the stairs. She felt her shirt slide up her back and prayed she wasn't about to get carpet burns. Fuck. She hadn't said, "sir," and in Adam's book, that was a capital crime. Sure enough, within seconds they were in his bedroom, and he threw her to the bed and roughly yanked off her pants and underwear. She knew what was coming, and she didn't mean him.
Adam lay down on top of her and was inside her immediately, without any preparation for her. She felt herself start bleeding, as he began to thrust inside her as hard as he could. They were supposed to be leaving for an engagement and she knew they would now be late, but there was no way Adam would let them go before he'd 'taught' her who was boss, and she'd apologised for daring to disrespect him.
"You… call… me… Sir," Adam grunted as he raped her. "At… all… fucking… times, bitch!"
"Yes Sir," she squeaked, tears of agony falling down her face. How could she have been so stupid? A mere, "Thank you," would never satisfy Adam, not from a woman anyway.
When he was done, Adam again grabbed her by the ears. "Listen you fucking bitch! You like ears so damn much, then use yours and listen to me, I will not give you another warning! If a man does anything at all for you no matter how small, you must worship him for it! I am your man, which means you will respect and worship me the most! We are to marry soon, then you will obey me even further, as a wife should her husband. In the old days wives used to call their husband's, "My Lord," so you will do exactly that when we marry. They had the right fucking idea back then!"
With that, he slipped a cheap plastic ring on her finger, which probably cost him about one dime. Some romantic proposal! She thought grimly as he pulled her to her feet, again by the ears. Pain shot through her ears straight into her head.
"Thank you, Sir," she said immediately, nodding towards the piece of shit ring he'd just given her.
"That's better wench," Adam acknowledged, dragging her back towards the stairs. "Now let's try this again, we have a place to be, my dear. You are to remain on my arm the whole evening, you know the rules, not speak to other men unless you are spoken to, hell not to speak unless spoken to. Do this all night, and I may, I said may, be gentle when I fuck you when we get home. Do you understand me?" "
"Yes, Sir."
…
Danielle wasn't sure how long she'd been unconscious for but when she once more became aware of her surroundings, she was lying on her bed. On the one hand she was relieved, because it meant her scream hadn't been as loud as she thought. On the other however her heart was broken, because it meant Michael had indeed left just as he'd said he would. She didn't blame him, she understood his need for space, but why the fuck did she have to pass out just before he did?
She sighed and stood up, testing her legs. Dizziness threatened to take hold, so she grabbed the edge of her nightstand. Shit! How hard had she hit her head, even into soft foam? The last thing she wanted was her brain bleed to start again… When she felt strong enough, she staggered over to the desk and picked up her water glass, taking a long sip of the ice cold, refreshing liquid.
"What do I do now?" She asked herself out loud. Apart from wanting to text Colin right there and then which she didn't want to do in case she said something she regretted in anger, she felt alone, confused. How the hell could he say that to Michael? He could've come to her at least. Did he think she was too fucking delicate right now to take it? Typical fucking man!
Immediately she hated herself for the thought, but neither could she shake it off completely. Colin had been a coward, plain and simple.
…
Tim had just got into the bed in his hotel room when a text came through on his phone from a number he didn't recognise. Picking it up, he glanced at the message.
Tim. Please can you call me? I cannot make outgoing calls, and I need to talk to you. M.
M? Tim thought uncertainly, then it clicked. Michael? He'd given the killer his number as had Nigel, Dave and Emma. He very much doubted Colin would have. How could he have been so petty? Tim still couldn't believe it.
Hitting the call button, he held the phone to his ear. It rang twice then there was a click then silence, except for calm, steady breathing. This immediately confirmed Tim's suspicions. "Hello, Michael?" Another text came through.
I apologise for disturbing you. Just so you are aware, you are on speaker phone and Rick is with me. I need to talk to you, if I may?
"Sure," Tim sat up. "I'm all ears, go for it."
He heard Rick chuckle and understood. All ears. It made him smile too and think affectionately of Danielle.
"How can I help you, Mr. Myers?
You're doing it again, "Mr. Myers." Stop it.
"Sorry caught me," Tim blushed and let out an embarrassed chuckle. "What can I do for you, Michael?"
He loves her, and not like a brother should, doesn't he? I saw how he hugged her and whispered in her ear, let alone allowing her to touch his ears. I am not controlling or jealous towards her but given what he told me, I know what he was trying to say to her.
Tim sighed. "Michael, her heart belongs to you, you need to trust me on this man. You mean the world to her. Colin had years to tell her and didn't, you gained her trust over a period of months, and she fell in love with you. Tough luck Colin, he was too late."
What about her? Does she love him like that?
"No way!" Tim said vehemently. "Not in that way, there's no damn way in hell! Please Michael, you need to trust her. She's probably upset and angry right now, she needs you to comfort her. Please don't doubt her? After everything she's been through, the last thing she would do is lie to you. You've shown her who a real man is, what real love feels like, she would never risk that."
"Well said!" Tim heard Rick say. "I totally agree, Michael. This man is wise. If your relationship is going to work, you must trust what she's telling you. You must! Otherwise, you're doomed before you even start! Believe me Michael, love is a precious thing and when you find it, it's very easy to lose! Please don't let that happen?"
…
When Danielle hit the call button, she was relieved to hear Mel's voice answering her call. "Hi, are you ok?"
"Mel, please can I talk to you?"
"Of course, you can sweetheart, what's happened?" Mel opened the door and entered.
"Out of here? Can we go for a coffee in the canteen? Or a walk or something? I just must get out of this room! Please?"
"Of course," Mel said instantly, gently taking her arm. She'd already slid her clothes and shoes back on before pressing the call button.
Joanne had gone home after the group had returned to Haddonfield, as had Jack to be with his wife. She wasn't sure why Rick had stayed, but guessed he had his reasons. Maybe he was working a night shift and would take an extra day off later or something?
"I'm sorry I'm not Joanne," Mel said as if reading her mind and laughed. "But I hope I can help you just as she would."
"Mel, I think as much of you as I do of Joanne. You two ladies have been nothing but kind to me, I know you came over to this ward after I entered as they wanted another female guard and I'll tell you something? I'm glad you did."
"Is that just because I've got sticky out ears?" Mel asked and Danielle couldn't help it, she started to laugh. Mel joined her, lowering her head so she was touching said, "sticky out ears."
"Ok got me!" she said as her laughter died. "Thanks Mel."
The guard released her and once in the canteen sat opposite her, them both holding steaming cups of tea. "So," Mel began again. "How can I help you? I'm all ears! Yep, ears!"
"Shut up," Danielle muttered, but was smiling slightly. She took a deep breath and began to speak.
"Mel, right now I'm seriously fucking pissed off at Colin, my adoptive brother. He's only fucking… sorry," she stopped, ashamed of her language.
"You carry on," Mel chuckled. "We're the only ones in here and I swear a lot too, it's ok. Tell me what's wrong?"
"Colin's only gone and told Michael he apparently has fucking feelings for me, hasn't he? Says he's had them for years, but was too scared to tell me, even after I attempted suicide! Only now that I'm in love with Michael does he decide to tell someone, and he chooses to tell Michael himself! He could've approached me, mom, or dad! Hell, even Charlotte before she got hurt! But he didn't, he told Michael! Why? Did he think I was too delicate to take it? Typical fucking man! I don't want to be looked at as if I'm made of cotton fucking wool! I'm trying to get over that and be my own woman! But he doesn't tell me, does he? Even before I fell in love with Michael, he had time, it wasn't overnight, believe me it wasn't! But did he? No! If he's had them for, "Years," she sketched air quotes around the last word with her fingers. "Then why the fuck didn't he tell me? What? Does he think that now Michael knows, I'm just going to go, oh, I didn't know that! Yay! Sorry Michael, I didn't know Colin feels that way about me, so I'm leaving you to be with him? I mean seriously! What, the, fuck?"
There was a short silence after she finished her rant, then Mel softly spoke. "Wow?"
"Yeah, I know right?" she stormed. "Talk about a fucking cowardly thing to do! I've also got a horrible feeling Colin brought up 63 and 78."
"Surely not? Why would he and what makes you think that?"
"Michael's seriously angry Mel, and he's left me for the night."
"I did wonder why you were alone in there," Mel said. She let out a long, low whistle. "Shit."
"I'm totally not against Michael needing and having space, but like this? For these reasons?" She pulled out her phone and showed Mel the text Michael had sent her re leaving.
"So," Mel said thoughtfully as she read it a few times. "He says you'll talk tomorrow and depending on how it goes, he may come back to you?"
"That's how I read it too," she agreed. "But I don't know what he's expecting me to possibly say that's any different to what I said tonight. Nothing will change, I love Michael Myers Mel, and that's all there is to it! If Colin wanted me to know, he acted too late for me to care."
…
So, what are you suggesting I do?
"Isn't it obvious?" Tim said before he could hold the words back. "Go back to that damn cell man, comfort her, tell and show her that you believe what she's saying. What did she say to you?" That she loves me, and she would not leave me for him. She said that he had years to tell her and didn't, said I own her heart and that won't change."
"So why the doubt Michael?" Rick asked softly. "If that's what she said to you, why do you doubt her?"
Because she has known him a lot longer than she has known me.
"What damn difference does that make?" Tim could feel himself getting a little frustrated now. "Damn it Michael, she told you she loves you! If you're going to doubt her purely because of how long she's known Colin, your relationship doesn't stand a fucking chance!"
"Again, agreed," Rick said.
He seriously wants to be with her, however. If he did not, he would not have brought up 63 and 78.
"Yeah," Tim growled. "That was fucking low! I'm with you on that!"
"He did?" Rick sounded horrified. "WTF?"
"Yeah," Tim said grimly. Asked Michael why he…" now he hesitated, not wanting to say it even to quote Colin. "He asked Michael why he killed Judith in 63 and those guys in 1978."
"Fucking hell," Rick breathed. "That's…"
"Selfish and a fucking low blow? Yeah, I know man!"
"Michael," Rick said gently. "You need to trust her. How many times have you heard Dr Stark telling her the very same thing about you? It takes two for a relationship to be long, loving and successful, you can't afford to doubt each other at least not without reasonable proof. Apart from knowing Colin longer than she's known you, has she ever given you one single shred of reason to believe she wants to be with Colin?"
"Well said," it was Tim's turn to say.
There was a moment's silence, before Michael's reply came through. Tim assumed he was showing them to Rick before sending them to him.
She has not.
"Well, there you are then," Rick continued. "Don't let doubt in, Michael. She needs you right now, hell," he lowered his voice and Tim was sure he'd leant towards Michael. "You know as well as I do who's in that fucking MS cell up there, not to mention the guy who shouts out misogynistic bullshit any time day or night. She needs you with those guys around. If she's telling you she loves you and that will never change, you must trust her if you want this to last! You must, Michael!"
Tim was sure he heard the killer's soft sigh, before Michael texted again.
I was just so angry at him not her. The nerve he had to say he would fight me to the death if I hurt her. Now I understand it, he is her brother. But he was saying it with entirely the wrong motive, he wants her to be his.
"Yes, but firstly we all know he'd lose and secondly that isn't going to happen," Tim said quietly. "She's yours Michael, you're hers, simple as that. Please don't let your insecurity win? She doesn't want to sabotage your relationship, I'm sure you don't either and it wasn't even her who told you, it was Colin. So why are you taking it out on her, making her suffer for it, when she didn't even say anything?"
"That's a good point," Rick said. Again, they both heard Michael sigh.
I did not mean to do so, he just made me so angry, especially bringing my past into it.
"Yeah, on that I'm with you," Tim said. "But please, go back to her, comfort her, love her? I saw the texts you forwarded me you sent to Danielle, that you would talk to her tomorrow and return depending on how that went. But man, she's not going to say anything different than what she's said to you tonight already. You're the one she needs right now, no one else. You're also the one she loves, not Colin! Colin is her brother, nothing else!"
I also think I accidentally hurt her. When our friend in the MS cell was about to be let out, I pulled her back, something Dr Stark had asked me to do. But I grabbed her left arm, forgetting how bruised it is. That was another reason I had to leave, I felt so bad about that. He was just going to be out within seconds, and she was sitting at the desk, I…
"Panicked?" Tim and Rick said in unison.
"That's not a crime either," Rick said.
"That's normal love," Tim finished.
Damn you both.
The two men chuckled. "What?" Tim asked. "Did you think when you asked me to call you, I'd say oh yeah, she's going to be with Colin, she just hasn't told you yet? She loved him all along. Sorry to disappoint you, Michael."
"If you think you caused her injury," Rick murmured, so Tim could only just hear him. He raised his voice a little, clearly realising this. "Then you must go back and make sure she's alright. I'm sure she is, but I totally understand why you'd feel bad. But leaving her because of your guilt is not the answer, Michael. Go back and check on, comfort, love her."
There was silence, but Tim was almost certain the killer finally nodded.
"Good," Rick said, confirming Tim's suspicion.
"Um, Michael," Tim started, a little nervous now. "Before you go, can I quickly ask you something?"
You may.
"Thanks. It's just… I know our friend Irish C was brought into Smith's Grove very shortly after. you know, killing mom." He heard Rick's soft gasp. "Yeah," he clarified. "My mother was one of his fucking victims! Did you…"
I was 18 when he was brought in. I was here if that is what you are asking me.
"Fuck me," Tim let out a long breath. "I wish you'd killed him for me and all the rest of his victim's families!"
The electric chair did a fine job of that.
"Still took fucking long enough," Tim growled. "They thought he…" he stopped himself. Michael had victim's families too and he was being treated in Smith's Grove just as Chadwick had been.
"I…" Tim blustered, unsure how to finish.
My treatment obviously worked, just not in the way Dr Loomis was expecting. It's ok Tim, I understand. Chadwick didn't stand a chance. No one would be able to get to his heart, he wouldn't have let them live long enough.
Tim let out a shaky laugh. "Touché, and don't I fucking know it! That said, I didn't think you would either."