The Devil Walks Among Us; Book l - Completed 4/21/22

Cruel Intentions

Gasping at seeing her file, she didn't know whether or not to be worried or not. She tried to force herself to think that he was reading her file with the exact reasons as to why she was looking through Michael's file, although she hoped that was the assumption and not cruel intentions from Dr. Sartain.

"Ms. Harris?" Dr. Sartain called from his office door, the soft click of the handle startling her. "We'll be able to start a session with him at noon. He has been served his breakfast. I was told to give this to you."

"My name tag? I don't remember ever losing it." She chuckled, taking it from his hand.

"Night security brought it to me. They clean rooms every night and said they found it in Michael's room under his bed. They saw it since they sweep under everything every night. I believe you have already made a connection with him."

"I'm not so sure about that-"

"Then why else would he put your name tag under his bed?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe I dropped it while I was in there-"

"Were you sitting on his bed?"

"NO! I was sitting in the only chair in his room next to the door." She scoffed.

"Just making sure, is all," Dr. Sartain faced his palms to her in defeat. "He will be available at noon. Would you like to go back to his room or for me to have him arrange to be taken outside?"

"Whichever makes him most comfortable."

oOo

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she sat uncomfortably in Michael's room, mentally noting the time, date, and focus of the session in her mind as she still refused to take a notebook or recording device into his room with her. Her primary focus was to not be like every other psychologist and put any more pressure on him than what was already brought to the surface. Michael kept his back to her as the day prior, gazing out of his window. Furrowing her brows, she noticed one difference of his appearance: a loose cotton string around his head. He was wearing one of his hand-made masks. From what she could see, it resembled a Jack-o-Lantern. It was a pastel-like orange and was able to hide his features well. She mentally noted that a mask was a form of comfort for him as he didn't like to show his face, but she didn't think it was due to him having a personal insecurity, but the ability to hide behind another face other than his own, to live in an imaginary-like world where if he were to decide to take off the mask, he himself did nothing.

"That's a great mask, Michael. You're very talented." Mia complimented him, a faint smile tugging on her lips as he turned his head slightly over his left shoulder to look at her, vulnerable and completely submissive in his presence. Slightly, he thought about harming her for even daring to speak to him, but the thought of enjoying her presence and peaceful-like vulnerability overlooked the strong spike to hurt her. Sure, he probably would eventually, but he knew another wave of shock therapy or brutal punishment would follow if he were to do anything now.

For the next twenty minutes, Mia said not another word towards him, letting her compliment of his mask be the only thing she would say to him whilst not feeling like she was forcing a conversation with him. He kept his gaze facing forward back towards his window, only turning his head to look at her the one time she spoke. Strangely, the silence between them wasn't awkward, but mutual.

He chose not to speak to her as well as she. But to each of their own thoughts, they were very well aware of each other.

He heard her sigh quietly, indicating that she was standing to her feet to leave. "Well, Michael, I'm going to head home. I need to be home before it gets dark to feed my horses..." She said to him, stopping in her tracks as she saw him turn his head to the right to look over his shoulder at her, acknowledging the word horse. "You like horses, don't you?" She asked, knowing she wouldn't receive an answer, although his piercing side gaze through his mask was enough of an answer. His stark stare didn't give off a dangerous vibe, but more of a curious one. "I have two. One is white and the other is brown. Here, I'll leave this picture with you." She said, taking a folded photo of her two horses looking at the camera at the same time, ears pricked forward in attention. Pulling the photo from the back of her phone case, Michael knew it must've been something important to her to tote around a photo of them everywhere she went. She hesitantly laid it on his desk, seeing that he had been making his mask there recently, judging by the wet pool of water next to a bottle of glue.

Dismissing herself from his room, the two guards outside of the door nodded at her to lock it securely behind her. Curious, she turned to peek into the glass window of the door to see if he had moved from his spot. Grinning, she had now seen him standing in front of his desk, looking down at the photo of the horses she had left him.