Chapter 3

32 1 0
                                    

Doctor Samuel Loomis looks at the young guard in pure terror, his face turning pale. He had worked with Michael as his psychiatrist ever since he had gotten to Smith's Grove. No one knew how dangerous he was more than Dr. Loomis. To him, Michael Myers was incurable. Whatever he would say or do to him, Michael would never react. In fact, some other doctors had started to believe that Michael was just a giant statue. The title does fit him well. "We must move quickly!" Dr. Loomis shouts before turning around and bolting in the opposite direction towards Michael's cell, which of course was in the highest security level.

    Loomis had suspected this day would come eventually, specifically during the Halloween time of year. Each year in October, Michael would act strangely. More strangely than usual. When Dr. Loomis would mention or ask about that day and what happened, Michael showed no emotion and no sign of being troubled or even thinking about it whatsoever. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. Yet, he was the strongest and most fit of all the patients. Many people at the Sanitarium have theories that Michael isn't human at all, as when you looked into his dark eyes it was just inhumane blackness; no feelings, no words, no thoughts at all. They didn't know what he was, and neither did Dr. Loomis.

————————————————————————

    Michael didn't run, just walked carefully and quietly throughout the facility halls. He wasn't afraid. Even without a weapon, he was sure he could do this; besides, he himself is basically a weapon. He would do what he had to do, just like he did to the doctor that entered his cell. Michael clenches his fists as he walks past other patient cells. They were screaming at him, begging him to let them free. He ignored them, and kept walking. He walked so quietly that it was almost as if his feet weren't even touching the ground, like he was floating. Noticing a door cracked open, he approaches it and gently nudges it open to find it was the interrogation room, which was empty at the moment. So many memories were made in this room, all bad ones of course. Michael had been chained up while being yelled at by his doctor who would try everything to get him to talk, but he never budged and never will.

Suddenly a bright red light started flashing throughout the hallways, along with an ear blasting siren. Michael now knew he was definitely being looked for, yet, he still had no fear. He simply retreats into a utility closet, hiding behind a mop rack. Sounds of pounding footsteps could be heard from outside the closet, as well as panicked voices from all of the guards. Every single guard in the Sanitarium was on high alert and looking for Michael, which gave him an odd feeling. Normally everyone would leave him alone and he would be cast back like a shadow, but now that he was out and causing chaos, he found himself craving more of this attention. More chaos. That's what made him feel good. In fact, that's the only time he would feel anything.

    The door handle to the closet started jiggling, so Michael swiftly grabs a broom and yanks the straw part off, leaving him with a broom stick. It wasn't much, at least not compared to the sweet feeling of the handle of a butcher knife being in his palm, but it would do for now. The door bursts open and a herd of guards come rushing in. Michael wastes no time and bashes one of them on the head with the broom stick, then swings it behind him to whack another guard across the cheek. Bloody teeth fall on the white tiled floor, which was about to get a lot more dirtier. Two guards were down, 6 more to go. Michael again hits a guard with the stick, but he still stayed standing. Impatient, Michael tucks the broom stick beneath his armpit, and with his two strong hands, he grabs the young guard's arms and pins him to the wall. His grip was becoming firmer by the second as he lifts the guard off the ground and closer to the wall. The grip was becoming so tight you could hear a small crack in both of the guard's arms. The guard screams in pain, Michael loving it and going a step further by taking a moment to snap both of the petrified man's arms, the bones now noticeable as they had been forced out of place and went through the skin. Blood covered Michael's hands, shirt, and the floor. He tosses the injured guard to the ground, not finished with him just yet. Taking out the broom stick once more, Michael plunges it into the guard's stomach. The stick itself wasn't very pointy, but Michael was just so strong that it still went through the flesh and into the guts of the guard. The guard, now gurgling blood, looks up at Michael with pure hatred and terror. Michael got giddy over this.

The remaining five guards start to back away, but Michael wanted at least one more toy to play with before making his well awaited exit. Grabbing a guard by the shirt, who was maybe about 37 years old, Michael puts pressure on his forehead to keep him in place while he impales the guard through his left eye with the broom stick. He kicks the deceased guard to the ground, leaving the stick inside his brain. The other four men rush away as if their life depended on it, which supposedly it did. Taking a deep breath, Michael notices the guard he had knocked the teeth out of waking up. Without hesitation, he dashes over and wraps his muscular arms around the guard's neck, strangling him until he feels no more pulse. Satisfied, Michael heads away towards the door to his freedom, all while trailing bloody footsteps.

HALLOWEEN: A Carving on All Hallow's EveWhere stories live. Discover now