Until Dawn Fanfiction-Epilogue

Dr Hill

I heard news of what happened. After the raging inferno burnt down the house and the police sealed the mines after discovering the bodies, I knew the wisest thing to do was to get out of Blackwood Mountain. I was courting my own death if I stayed behind. Thank goodness the authorities didn't find me in my secluded cabin.

My heart ached when I saw all the teenagers' grim faces on the news. They were alive and kicking alright, but Josh wasn't. I thought I would have had some influence on him after numerous counselling sessions. He had mental issues but underneath it all he was just a kid who was struggling to come to terms with the death of his beloved sisters.

But really, there was no incentive in leaving this place. Where could I go? I had no family or relatives. I was the only surviving member.

Call it ironic, but the reason why I was a psycharist was because of my insane family members back when the Sanitorium was still in operation.

My dad worked as a miner. He met my mom one day, when he still had a head of glossy dark hair and mischievous blue eyes. She was a wild child, and loved to be around nature. If my mom had taken another path that day, they wouldn't have met, and I wouldn't be here either.

My dad became insane after his first encounter with a Wendigo. He was declared to be 'suffering from hallucinations'.

So much so that after dawn, he started to believe he was one of them. Just like lycanthrophy, he turned into a raging maniac, almost strangling another patient.

My mom was healthy at first. But after my dad passed away not long after and was told that he had died in his sleep, she retreated into her shell. Much like a Wendigo, she too, lacked all emotions, going through the motions every day but was never there for me, at least not mentally or emotionally.

Thank goodness one of the operational managers of the Sanitorium took pity on me and pulled a few strings so that I could have a caretaker appointed to me for free. Her name was Nancy. She was very motherly and I loved her like my own mom. She too slipped away one day, vanishing suddenly while my 20 year old self was out hunting.

We never found where she was, but I had a pretty good idea.

I couldn't remember exactly when I decided that I wanted to help others going through mental problems. People saw them as insane, but I saw them as interesting. Their minds worked different from us for a reason, or many for that matter. Of course, I never really had any personal connection with them until I met Josh. All the others were just my subjects, specimens to be examined.

Josh felt like the son I never had. Growing up, I was a lone wolf. I never had any friends and kept to myself. Since my school was in the city, there was little to no chance of bumping into any of my acquaintances on the weekends anyway. My best friend was a domesticated wolf whom I'd affectionately named Midnight. I was happy enough, but sometimes I wondered how it would feel to have a human friend.

Josh mirrored my teenage self. Someone who struggled with accepting the reality. I put on a very cool facade when I was out and about, but inside I was screaming at all the injustices of the world and blaming everyone else. I was some sort of misanthropist, really, until I took up psychology and discovered how we were conditioned to respond to our surroundings - and how different people did it differently.

I know he's still out there. Even though I tear my hair out trying to get into his head and cure him, rid him of his hunger for vengeance and his acute sense of loneliness, I missed how he would sometimes talk to me like he trusted me completely.
The chilly wind squeezed through the cracks of my old office window and I shivered. A high-pitched wail rang in the air, and the hairs on my arms stood.

Wherever you are, Josh... I pray you will be well.

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