Chapter Text
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
The Shape repeated the action over and over as it fiddled with the chain binding it in its cell. It had once again been foiled in attempting to kill its niece, Jamie. This time, instead of trying to kill it, law enforcement tried containing it in a cell. Perhaps they had realized that trying to kill it was pointless and that it would just come back, anyway. Maybe they thought containing it was the better option. Silently, the Shape plotted an escape.
At least most of its brain was.
The remaining bit, the little humanity it had left within it, was thinking back to the attic of its old home. Jamie was the first person to have reached its human form, and she did it with just two words.
"Uncle? Boogeyman."
Those two words had made the Shape freeze. Michael took that opportunity to show himself and really get a look at Jamie in a way that was not prey. The pitch black eye changed in color, becoming a soft brown, while the blinded eye remained a cloudy blue-ish gray color. The physical build changed, shrinking down a few inches and the dark brown hair lightened a little in color and become shorter. Any scars received as a killer faded, leaving only the one over the blind eye. He fully felt like his old self again for the first time since he was six.
When Jamie asked to see his face, he allowed it. He knew his killer form normally would not do such a thing, but Michael wanted Jamie to see the real him, the Michael that was forced into his own subconsciousness for years.
And for the first time in years, he shed a tear, deeply regretting not being strong enough to fight against the Shape. His own self.
Michael became determined to save Jamie from himself, but the moment she reached up to touch his face, the Shape started battling Michael for control. In a tantrum of which side should be present, it trashed the attic while Jamie escaped. Michael's humanity had ultimately lost and the Shape was back once more like nothing happened, returning to its tall, unruly form, with the blackest eye.
I can't live on like this. I've killed so many and traumatized the others. I never asked for any of this! I have to find a way to get my life back under control.
Jamie also has a killer within her that tried to get her foster mom. She'll need help containing that before it gets out of control, like I did.
Of course, I'm going to need to figure out how to control myself first, but how? Sure, Jamie reached me once, but will that be enough to maintain control? There's gotta be another way.
As the Shape played with the chain, deep in thought, Michael's eye caught the thorn shaped tattoo on his right wrist.
The curse. The cult. That's it.
As if on cue, several gun shots rang out from the hallway. Some screams followed up the loud bangs. The Shape lifted its head and tilted it, curious of the commotion. A man in black from head to foot, with the exception of the shiny steel over his toes, approached the Shape's cell and shot the cell door's lock. The door swung open and allowed him to slip into the cell. He injected a needle into the Shape's neck and hauled it to its feet. He also removed the chains binding the killer.
The Shape immediately recognized the drug. Thorazine. However, unlike what it was expecting, there was not enough to make it sluggish and drowsy. Instead, it was just enough to make it feel calm and at ease. The next thing Michael knew, he was back in control, just like in the attic. He did not dare reveal himself, though. He had a feeling this man was up to something.
"Come, Michael. Let's get the girl and head back to headquarters," the man in black told him and led him down the hall. Michael instantly recognized that voice and he felt his stomach drop. This was not good.
~x.X.x~
Meanwhile, Jamie was waiting in a cop car outside when she heard the flurry of shots. Curious, and having a dreadful feeling in her stomach, she climbed out and went back into the station. What greeted her was more of something she really wished she never had to see again.
Death.
All the cops that had been helping her were dead, laying on the ground in bloodied heaps. Tearing up and feeling more fear, she made her way down the hall. She found the door to the Shape's cell, which was now bent up and flaming a little. A sob formed in her throat and she choked it out. "No … no … no!" she sobbed, unsure of what else to do. Her instincts were telling her to run, knowing the Shape was back on the loose.
However, it was not the Shape she had to worry about.
"Jamie," a deep voice rumbled through her head. "Come to me."
Jamie flinched and whipped around. She was well aware of her psychic connection with her uncle, but this time felt different. This was definitely not the Shape. "Who are you?!"
"My name is Dr. Wynn. I know much about your uncle. I know how to help him and how to help you. Come with me. Let me take you to a hospital where you can get the exact treatment you need," the voice explained.
Jamie hesitated a moment. My family is dead. Friends of my family are dead. The cops are dead. And this guy says he knows about Michael and how to help? She felt like she did not have much of a choice. Dubiously, she followed the direction of the voice. She could feel it leading her to the source.
She soon found herself back outside. And what greeted her was what she could only describe as chaos.
Cars and vans flooded the parking lot. A bunch of people were rushing around dressed in weird black robes with strange red markings on them.
What is going on?! Jamie thought in alarm, looking around for a clear path to leave the scene. She no longer cared about what the voice said. Her gut was telling her to get out of here.
"Settle, big guy! It'll be easier if you don't struggle!" a voice shouted, getting Jamie's attention. She turned just in time to see- … no way.
Two robed men were dragging a desperately struggling Michael towards an open van. He thrashed against their arms, but could not break free. How was this the same brute of a monster that was trying to kill her earlier? Why could he not break free? Were the men somehow stronger than him? Or had they done something to him? Jamie did not know.
Just as Michael was about to be forced into the van, he looked directly at Jamie. Thanks to his mask, Jamie was unable to make out what expression he wore. But through their connection, she sensed … guilt? What?
Before she could do anything, Michael was stuffed into the van and the doors instantly closed, sealing him inside.
Another van rolled up behind Jamie and the man in black stepped out. The next thing she knew, she was scooped up and was getting carried towards the van. "HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" she shrieked, thrashing to get away.
"It's okay, Jamie," the man in black said.
Jamie immediately stopped. That was the voice that lured her out here. This must be Dr. Wynn.
Dr. Wynn set Jamie down in the back of the van and closed the doors, sealing her in almost complete darkness. She could see out the back windows but just barely. Unsure of what else to do, she curled up in one of the back corners of the van. She felt the engine rumble to life beneath her and she felt tears well in her eyes. How did things get like this? Jamie wondered to herself. What's gonna happen to me?
As the van drove off, a loud explosion rang through the sky. Startled, Jamie rushed to the window to see what was going on. Most of the police station was completely destroyed and what remained was up in flames. The disaster was getting smaller and smaller as the van drove away, the cars and other vans following close behind. Jamie crawled back to her corner and slumped against the wall.
The car ride was silent in a dreadful way. Jamie felt on edge the whole time. How could she not? She tried not to think about what could happen to her, but she could not help it. Each thought became more disturbing than the last, psyching her out further and further. I just want to go home. Jamie thought to herself, despite not knowing what "home" even was anymore. But right now, she would accept anything that was not this.
Jamie tried to distract herself from the fear gnawing at her chest by staring out the back windows at the sky. It was starting to get lighter in color. The sun should be rising at any moment. Tears poured from her eyes faster and she had to suppress a sob. She was not sure if Dr. Wynn could hear her from wherever he was and she did not want to find out. This has been going on all night. And she still had no idea what was in store for her once they got to … wherever she was going.
As the sky got slightly lighter and turned from black to a dark blue, the van rolled up to a building and came to a stop. The back doors opened and Dr. Wynn urged her to come out. Hesitantly, Jamie obliged, knowing she likely had no other choice. Outside, she saw a sign that told her where they were. Smith's Grove Sanitarium. Jamie felt a little relieved. A hospital of sorts. Perhaps there was still hope.
~x.X.x~
Oh, how Michael wished he could voice his protests right now. He had not used his voice since he was six. There was no way it would work in perfect condition now. Besides, if he revealed that his human form was in control right now, he did not know what reaction he would get. He recognized the robes of the people surrounding the stretcher he was tied down to. He knew they worked for Wynn and were in his insipid little cult. If he revealed himself, they would report back to their leader and he would be in for a dose of Hell. Anything to get the Shape back.
Michael had given up his thrashing. If he somehow broke free, he would likely have to kill these people. The Shape would not hesitate to do so, but it was not in control right now. Michael instead decided to plan an escape. This was going to be harder than escaping the police station. He and Jamie both needed to get out of this town quickly. Where they would go, Michael had no idea. But he would figure it out. He had to.
Once the van was parked, Michael's stretcher was wheeled out. Next to him, he spotted Wynn carrying Jamie on his hip. No! he thought in frustration. But when he saw the way Jamie tensed up from fear, he decided against struggling to get to her.
The group went into the sickeningly familiar building. Michael remembered every hall and every room. The place was practically empty since it was not even time for opening yet. It sure has changed these past few years, but it was still more or less the same. They went down to the lowest level in the building, where a passage Michael knew all too well greeted them. It led right to the cult's secret base.
Michael and Jamie were led to a hall of rooms and were ushered into separate ones, right next to each other. Michael was moved from his stretcher to the bed in his room. The cult members handling him were quick to rush out, scared he would take a jab at them. Once the restraints were undone, the door was hastily closed, locking him in.
"This is where you will be residing for the time being," Michael heard Wynn tell Jamie through the wall. "Get cozy while we work on preparations."
"Preparations for what?" Jamie asked in return. God, she sounded scared.
"You will see. Just know it's for your own good."
Michael did not like the sound of that. Once her door clicked shut and the group of footsteps faded away, Michael got to work on brainstorming a plan. First, he needed to at least make an attempt to win Jamie over. And the best way to do that was to reveal himself.
Let's see if my vocal cords still work. Michael cleared his throat. "Te-testINg," he murmured, voice completely cracking due to lack of use. Okay. My voice does still work. I just need to warm it up a little.
He decided the best way to do that was think his plan out loud.
"There's n-no wAy they'd let us gO that eas- easy. It miiight be ki-kill or bE k-killed," Michael stuttered to himself, struggling to force the words out. His voice was soft, airy, and still cracking. Damn, I sound like shit. "If I hAve to kill them, s-so beee it. OnlY ca-catch is- Jamie. Can't- can't lOse contrOL on h-hEr."
"Is someone else there?" the small voice from the other side of the wall interrupted Michael. By the sound of it, she had been crying.
Oh, Jamie. Michael attempted to project his voice more so he could be heard better. "Hel-lo, JamiE." It worked, but he was still stuttering and his voice was still cracking.
"Who are you?"
"It's- It's me," Michael replied. He huffed a weak laugh. "YoUr unc-uncle BoogeymAn."
There was a stunned silence before Jamie spoke again. "No way. I always thought he couldn't talk."
"The- The Shape cAn't talk," Michael corrected. "And I c-couldn't either. Until now."
"What do you mean?"
"The Shape l-lives within me," Michael started. Huh. No voice crack. I'm getting there. "And it's usually in con-control." Damn, almost made it without the stutter. "Been in control si-since I was six. The curse sup-pressed my humanity. But … you reached it, Jamie. No one's ever done that before." The stutter appeared to be gone and his voice was more clear than when he first started.
"I did?" Jamie sounded surprised.
"When you asked me to take my mask off, and my eye was brown and not black. That was my humanity showing. That was me," Michael explained.
"Why'd you decide to speak now?" Jamie asked.
"Because I want to get us out of here. I've been here before, trapped for fifteen years. You can't trust Wynn, Jamie. He's what fueled the Shape, strengthened the curse, and suppressed my humanity," Michael explained, trying not to think about the "sessions" he and Wynn had when he was a kid. "I already know about what happened to your step mom. He's going to try to fuel that darkness in you and try to get you to fall down the same path I did."
Michael could hear crying on the other side of the wall. I probably shouldn't have been that blunt. But she needs to know this. "It's going to be okay. I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen."
"How?" Jamie whimpered.
"I'm going to help you keep it under control. And I'm going to make sure the Shape stays under control, too. We don't have to live like this. I don't want to anymore and I'm sure you don't, either," Michael promised.
"But how do we do that?" Jamie asked.
Michael could feel it in their connection. She had her doubts and he couldn't blame her. Just hours ago, the Shape tried to kill her. "I think I know a way," he replied. He sighed. "It's going to be ugly. And messy. But you're going to have to trust me."
Jamie went quiet for a moment. Michael figured she was weighing her options. When she did not say anything, he continued. "I'll figure out a way to unlock your door. Once you're free, I want you to find somewhere to hide. And make sure it's a place with multiple exits, just in case. If I don't come for you within two hours, or if it's the Shape that comes for you, get yourself out. Find someone who can get you somewhere safe. Think you can do that?" he asked.
"I think so," Jamie hesitantly replied. "What are you going to do?" she nervously asked.
Michael pursed his lips. "I'm going to see to it they don't hurt either of us," he simply said. "And if my theory is right, I'll either weaken the curse, or end it entirely."
As if on cue, two men in robes approached the cells. One took out a set of keys and unlocked the door to Michael's.
"Come, Michael. Dr. Wynn is ready for you."
Michael quieted down and pretended to be the Shape. He let the cult members lead him out of the cell and into the hallway. However, he used this as an opportunity to spring into action.
Swiftly head butting one on the head and shoving the other right into the wall, he managed to knock them both out. But Michael was not sure how long they would stay unconscious. He took the keys from one of the cult members and unlocked Jamie's door. He found her sitting on the bed, looking surprised to see him so soon. "Go find someplace safe. Hurry. And try not to get caught," he instructed, pointing down the hall.
Jamie nodded and bolted out of the room. Then she turned and followed the direction Michael was pointing, back the way they came.
Once she was out of sight and ear shot, Michael heard noises from his feet. The cult members were waking up. He sighed to himself. He knew this was going to be risky, but he was not sure what other choice he had.
Okay, Shape. Switch with me.
Michael could feel himself get suppressed into his subconscious again. He felt his body grow a few inches, his good eye darken to pitch black, and his hair grow out a bit. His body stung a little as scars the Shape had endured reappeared. But the cult members could not see his changes in features due to the mask and mechanic suit.
The Shape immediately got to work. One of the cult members groggily stood to his feet, only for a pair of strong hands to grab his head and give it a swift jerk, snapping his neck in an instant. His peer gave a shout of fear as he dropped dead. The Shape turned to the other cult member and stomped down on his head, collapsing the skull in a second and silencing him.
Moving in complete silence, the Shape sauntered down the hall, leaving some bloody footprints in its wake. It listened carefully for more blood to spill. It soon found exactly what it needed; the main room where other members were hard at work to prepare the next ritual. And by the looks of it, they were nearly ready.
"Ah, Michael! You're just in time!" Wynn said, pleased to see him. He seemed not to notice that the Shape had come alone, at least not yet.
The Shape chose to ignore him. Instead, it was looking at the dagger that was going to be used for the ritual. It was going to be a blood ritual, it seemed. If the Shape could get a hold of that dagger, it would be able to pull this off.
A cult member, a woman, approached the Shape and escorted it to the altar, which brought it closer to the weapon. As soon as it was in reach, the Shape snatched it up faster than anyone could blink. The next thing the woman knew, she had a blade plunged through her neck and upward into her skull.
"Michael!" Wynn scolded. "Detain him!" he ordered the other cult members.
The others seemed hesitant, knowing what they were up against, but they obliged.
Despite getting jumped by twelve people at almost the same time, the Shape persisted.
The first cult member had his throat slashed.
The second member received an elbow to the sternum. When he doubled over, the Shape stabbed him in the back, right between his ribs and striking a lung.
The third and fourth members charged at the same time. The Shape briefly pocketed the dagger and bashed their heads together so hard, their heads cracked and squished together.
The fifth member tried getting a headlock from behind, but the Shape threw her over its shoulder and stomped down on her throat.
The sixth member got stabbed in the gut. The Shape gave the dagger a harsh twist, sending it deeper in and getting the organs.
The seventh member managed to knock the Shape off its feet, but the Shape stabbed him in the artery in his leg. This provided enough of a distraction for the Shape to get back up and focus on the next one while he bled out in just a few minutes.
The eighth member tried giving the Shape a bear hug from the side to take it down, only for it to twist in his hold and plunge the dagger straight through the top of his skull.
While the Shape was pulling the dagger out of the eighth's head, the ninth member tried the same approach, pinning both of its arms to its sides. The Shape jumped into him, sending them both down to the floor. The Shape landed in such a way that it completely crushed his skull with its shoulder.
The tenth member took advantage of the Shape being down and jumped onto it. The Shape just reached its hand up and ripped her throat out with its bare hand.
The Shape got back to its feet as the eleventh member charged at it. It slashed the dagger right at the corners of his mouth, slicing the head off at the jaw.
And the twelfth member grabbed the wrist that was controlling the dagger. The Shape dropped it and caught it in its other hand. Then it dragged the dagger straight up the member's lower torso, spilling his innards onto the floor.
Wynn could only stare in shock as the last cult member dropped. Now it was just him and the Shape. And he had a feeling the odds were going to be against him.
The Shape sauntered up to the cult leader, dagger at the ready.
Wynn staggered back a bit, pleading his case. "Michael, you're making a mistake. The cult still needs you. You still have to fulfill your duty!"
The Shape tilted its head at Wynn before grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the floor. It slammed him down on the ritual table, keeping him pinned by the throat.
Wynn was unable to breathe. He searched his robes for a needle, a gun, anything! But it was hopeless when the Shape suddenly pinned him down with its own weight more than its hand. The ropes at the corners of the table were snatched and used to tie Wynn down. The Shape raised the dagger above its head before bringing it down into Wynn's chest, striking the heart with practiced precision.
But one stab was not enough for the Shape. It kept stabbing Wynn until his chest was completely open, exposing his heart, which was now in pieces. Only then was the Shape satisfied. It got off the table and walked back down the hall.
Okay. Let's see if we can switch back. Michael thought, relieved the bloodbath was over. A small part of him felt satisfaction that Wynn got what he had coming, but another part of him felt like that kind of thinking was dangerous, at least for now while he was still learning how to control the Shape. Speaking of which, now that the cult was dead, perhaps the curse had weakened with it. He attempted to do the switch again that allowed the Shape to take over in the first place.
But he had no luck. The Shape refused to budge.
No. No! Michael furiously thought as the Shape walked down the hall, back in the direction Jamie ran off to. I need to figure out a way to switch back before I find Jamie!
Using their connection, the Shape followed Jamie's approximate whereabouts back up into Smith's Grove itself. The hallways were empty and the inmates were still locked in their rooms for the night, so it was easy for the Shape to weave through unnoticed.
Michael wracked his brain for an idea on how to switch back and take control again. He thought about what prompted the first switch. If he focused on Jamie trying to reach him, perhaps it will be enough to prompt another switch. If he did not figure out something soon, Jamie would be in danger again.
~x.X.x~
When her uncle told her to run and hide, Jamie figured her best bet would be to go back upstairs to the hospital. She didn't know what Michael was planning, but whatever it was she hoped it worked. But just in case it didn't, she wanted to make sure she was near either other people, or something to defend herself with. She soon found a storage room where medicine and tools were kept. Most of the tools were sharp, which might come in handy if the Shape ended up coming for her instead of Michael.
She took a look around, looking for things she could arm herself with. She considered a scalpel, but the cabinet caught her attention. She recognized the jars of fluid that her doctors would use to fill needles back at her old hospital. Maybe one of those could help.
Most of the jars had long words that she didn't recognize, but the descriptions on the jars were helpful. Finally, she spotted something.
Thorazine.
Grabbing the jar, she read over its purpose and side effects. Perhaps this will be useful. She looked around and found a syringe. Carefully, she filled it up with as much as she could.
Footsteps from the hall got her attention and she looked around for a hiding place. She settled on behind the cabinet, hoping the shadows would hide her. She peered around the corner and watched as the Shape walked in. Jamie shrank further in on herself and pressed a hand to her mouth to keep her quiet. She was unable to tell if this was Michael or the Shape. But based on the perfect posture and the way it slowly turned its head to look around the room, Jamie believed she had her answer. She kept the needle close, ready to inject it at least as a diversion if she needed.
The Shape looked around a bit before its gaze landed on the cabinet. It walked up to Jamie's hiding spot, holding up the dagger.
Jamie and the Shape locked eyes. This felt similar to the attic, which gave Jamie an idea. She wasn't sure it would work, but she had to try.
"Uncle Michael, I know you're still in there!" she hastily shouted, attempting to recreate the fear she felt the first time.
The Shape froze, confused by the claim. Michael saw his chance again and forced his way out his subconsciousness. The Shape suddenly dropped the dagger and clutched its head as the two mindsets fought for control.
Jamie watched, steadily standing up. She kept the needle clutched in her hand, trying to decide what to do. Should I run? Stay and see what happens? Inject the stuff to help Michael?
The last option felt like her best bet, but before she could, Michael suddenly dropped to his knees, fully taking over his body. For now.
"Can't- hold it off much longer-!" he struggled to say. "Run!"
I can't leave him like this. Jamie thought to herself. She rushed forward and jammed the needle in his arm, right where she could reach.
The effects worked quickly and Michael gasped in relief, feeling in control again. "Thank you," he panted, inspecting himself. He felt like himself again. Good. "I don't understand. I thought ending the cult would work," he explained. Then his eyes landed on the mark on his wrist. "The curse is still in effect," he realized aloud.
"So what are you going to do?" Jamie asked.
"I don't know," Michael admitted. "I hate to say it, but the answer might be back at the headquarters. Just follow my lead, and we'll avoid the … mess I left."
Jamie felt her stomach drop. He killed them all, didn't he? No. The Shape did. she reminded herself. That was going to take some getting used to.
Michael took a look at the supplies around them and then back at Jamie. "Before anything, though, we should treat your injuries while we have access to medical supplies."
Jamie nodded in agreement and the two of them got to work gathering up bandages and rubbing alcohol. The treatment stung, making Jamie wince a lot, but she was able to bear it. Michael apologized every time she hissed in pain, but Jamie was more focused on how gentle his hands were, much to her surprise. She knew those hands had taken so many lives, and yet here they were, making sure her injuries were clean and properly tended to.
As soon as they applied the last bandage, the two left the room and back towards the lowest level.
~x.X.x~
"Okay, there has to be an answer in here somewhere," Michael said, flipping through an old book. He and Jamie were Wynn's spare office that was located in the lair. In said office, there were a ton of books and notes on Thorn. Michael was leaning against the wall next to the shelf while Jamie was sitting on Wynn's desk.
Jamie grabbed a notebook and was flipping through it. "These are just notes on how to utilize it for evil," she groaned in frustration and tossed it over her shoulder. Then she grabbed another. This one was full of notes keeping track of the Shape's kills, starting with Judith. Jamie jumped a little at photographs taken at the crime scene. "Nope," she said, immediately throwing that one aside, too.
Michael noticed Jamie flinch. "What was in that one?"
"… the Shape's kills," Jamie quietly said.
Michael swore under his breath. "I'm sorry you saw that. I appreciate you wanting to help, but you don't have to keep looking if it's going to upset you."
"You're trying to help me, I should at least do the same," Jamie said. "It's so messed up, but we're all we've got now."
Michael sighed. "You're a good kid, Jamie. You didn't deserve to get caught up in all this."
"From what I can tell, I don't think you did, either," Jamie admitted. "You said Dr. Wynn forced you to do all this?"
Michael paused for a beat, thinking about it. Yes, Wynn strengthened the curse and forced him to lose himself, but the Shape is still a part of him. Choices were still made. But he wanted to try to process that later. Right now, he wanted to guarantee their freedom. He nodded and went back to flipping through the book in his hands. "From what I'm gathering, the only way known to be free of the curse is to die and have it passed onto the first person that finds your body," Michael said. "It manifests in the first place by having the 'evil' be fueled enough." He scoffed, thinking about how his mark appeared. "That tracks." He glared at the mark on his wrist.
An idea occurred to him. The only attempts at removing the curse recorded were slits of the wrists after the family had been slain, only to result in the user's death. He supposed he could try that, but it would likely just leave a scar and the mark would still be there. Unless….
"Jamie, wait here. I need to go do something."
"What?"
"Something I don't want you seeing," Michael said, leaving the room.
"What?!" Jamie called after him in disbelief. When no response came, she decided her best decision would be to stay out and wait.
It did not take long for Michael to find what he needed. Gauze, rubbing alcohol, and the dagger he still had with him. The blade was still stained with blood, so he cleaned it to the best of his ability at a sink. Then he coated it in rubbing alcohol for good measure. He found an old scrub and balled up a part of it. He removed his mask so he could stuff the cloth in his mouth, providing him something to bite down on. Then he brought the blade to the mark.
Okay. Three, two, one.
The blade of the dagger pierced the skin and got to carving. Michael suppressed his scream of pain and bit down on the scrub as hard as he could.
~x.X.x~
Jamie found herself reading about the curse itself and the runes that had influenced it in the first place. Runes can do more than starting curses? Huh. Who knew. Jamie thought to herself as she read. The door opening got her attention.
Michael walked in, body slouched a little from tiredness. His face was exposed, his mask now gripped in one of his hands. His wrist was wrapped in thick gauze, rapidly getting stained with blood. Jamie's eyes widened with concern. "It's okay. I have more gauze with me," Michael quickly assured. "I don't think the curse will be able to bother me as badly anymore."
Jamie was unsure of what Michael did exactly, and to be honest, she didn't want to know. So she just nodded. "It's good seeing your face again," she settled on saying instead.
Michael nodded in agreement. "Not entirely sure what I'm gonna do with this," he said, looking at his mask. "I probably should get rid of it, but it would feel like I'm throwing part of myself away."
"So keep it then," Jamie suggested. "Besides, what if there's a moment where the Shape needs to protect us?"
Michael raised a brow, not entirely sure he would be able to tame the Shape like that, but Jamie did raise a point. He slipped the mask back on, at least for the time being. Then he looked at the open book next to Jamie. "What's that?"
"Just reading about the runes," Jamie replied. "They have all sorts of abilities to serve Thorn."
Michael walked closer to the desk to take a look himself. He and Jamie started flipping through the pages together. Then they spotted something.
"There's a spell that acts as a portal to a sanctuary secluded from society to keep users safe," Michael said, pointing to the page.
"That might be what we need," Jamie said. "New home, new start! Right?"
"Maybe. Let's see if we can check it out and decide from there." Michael took a look around and found something in the corner of the desk. He picked up a small cloth bag and poured its contents into his palm. A bunch of rune stones. Michael took another look at the spell and arranged the runes in a circle on the floor. With the book in his hand, he cleared his throat and started reciting the spell. "O Thorn o darkness, I summon thee to send us to thy home o sanctuary and solitude. Let us reside in peace until it is safe once more!"
Jamie stared at the circle of runes, feeling skeptical. Michael also stared at it. "Nothing's happening," Jamie pointed out.
As soon as she said that, dark matter connected the runes before filling the circle entirely, creating what seemed to be a bottomless hole.
"… is that safe?" Jamie nervously asked.
"No idea. One way to find out. Wait here," Michael said, closing the book. He kept it with him just in case and jumped in.
The next thing he knew, there was a shift in gravity. For a moment he felt like he was moving sideways before plummeting downward and hitting grass. Sitting up he took a look around. The dark portal was behind him in a tree. In front of him was a massive old town. Houses lined various streets in the form of a grid. The buildings appeared to be old and plantation had taken over everything. The place looks like it had been abandoned for who knows how long.
Michael stuck his head back into the portal, now sticking out of the floor of Wynn's office. "There's an abandoned town in here. At least I think it's abandoned. Wanna come check it out?"
"Yeah!" Jamie said.
"Just be careful coming in. The other end is sideways on a tree."
Jamie sat down on the ledge of the portal and slipped her legs in, up to her knees, getting a feel for the gravity. Then she slid the rest of the way through, her feet catching herself on the grass.
Now that both of them were through, they stared at the town before them. The portal closed up behind them, leaving a black marks in the tree in the shape of the runes Michael had used.
"Where exactly are we?" Jamie asked.
"I have no idea," Michael replied. "But according to the spell, this is meant to be a safe place. It probably wasn't needed until now. If it turns out this place is not safe, we'll find something else."
"We'll be able to go back, right?" Jamie asked.
Michael looked at the book tucked under his arm. "I believe so. Come on. And stay close."
"There's so many houses," Jamie pointed out as they walked.
"It's quiet, too," Michael noted. A house got his attention from the corner of his eye and he stopped in his tracks, staring at it.
"What?" Jamie asked. She followed his gaze and gasped.
It was a replica of Michael's old home. It was overgrown and falling apart a little, but it was still recognizable.
Michael hesitantly walked up the porch steps and to the front door. Placing a hand on the doorknob and giving it a twist, he pushed open the door. The interior was also the same, exactly how he remembered it.
"This is so trippy," Michael murmured to himself as he set the book on the floor next to the doorway. Then he ascended up the stairs. He risked taking a peak inside Judith's old room, expecting to see a bloodstain where he had killed her all those years ago, but there was nothing. No sign that anyone had even lived here.
"Which one was your room?" Jamie asked from behind him.
"This way," Michael said, leading her down the hall.
Just like Judith's room, Michael's also seemed to never have anyone live in it.
"What are you thinking?" Jamie asked, running a finger along the window sill and looking out of it.
"We could stay here," Michael said. "It's familiar and it can be fixed up. If you would like."
Jamie nodded. "I think it will work."
Michael looked over at the window and saw the mask of the Shape staring back at him in the reflection of the glass. Now that they were somewhere they could stay, Michael could put the mask somewhere. Reaching up and pulling it off his head, he discarded it to the corner. He hoped he would not have to use it again any time soon.
Jamie watched the mask land in the corner with a flop, then turning back to her Uncle. "I prefer looking at the real you," she said.
"It feels good being seen again," Michael agreed with a smile.
The two of them looked back out to the town.
"So what now?" Jamie asked.
"We can rest up for a bit. We've had a long night," Michael said. "After that? We can portal back to Haddonfield to find some material to start fixing up the place and then come back." He looked over the expanse of houses once more. "Who knows? Maybe we don't even have to be alone. There can be others like us out there, looking for a second chance. These other houses have to be here for a reason, right?"
Jamie nodded in agreement. "That would be cool."
Neither of them realized how right they are.
At a campsite, a young couple was unaware of a giant hunk of man stalking them right outside their tent with a machete in his hand.
In a small town, a teenage girl was running through a red boiler room in her dream, the sound of metal scraping behind her.
On the west coast, a figure in a ghost mask watched another young couple settle in on the couch, preparing to watch a horror movie when he called their phone.
Down south, a young woman was driving for her life as a strange man with a chainsaw chased after her on foot.
A group of coal miners got to work, unaware of an extra miner lurking in the shadows, waiting for them.
In a wooded area, a group of teenagers went exploring, all of them failing to notice a pair of glowing red eyes following them.
A dog sitter settled into the home of her client, not noticing the peculiar way the border collie she was watching over stared her down.
In her own home, a blond teenager focused on a stack of books, practicing lifting them with her mind.
At a different campsite, a brunette teenage girl was washing blood off of her hands.
Cackling filled the air of a home as a pair of dolls finished off a kill.
On the side of a road, a group of greaser boys were getting chased down by a vibrant red car.
Just a few towns over, a rabid Saint Bernard was having his own chase.
Nearby, so was a Russian Blue with bloodied fur, a toddler by his side.
All the way in Japan, a family moved into a new house, unaware of the vengeful family already residing within.
Nearby, a man was watching TV when static took over the screen, followed by an image of a well that held another vengeful spirit.
Another man was experiencing something identical back in America.
At a motel, a woman settled into her room, unaware of a figure with a knife lurking outside.
Little did any of these killers know, their lives were about to change.