Doctor Terence Wynn, the administrator of Smith's Grove Sanitarium, watched uneasily as the tan car pulled into the drive. A portly man in a trenchcoat and a brown suit exited, walking calmly over to him. "Good day, Terence," the man said.
"Sam. Good to have you here." The two walked briskly back to the main building.
"What is the status?" asked the trenchcoated man.
Terence cleared his throat. "His name's Michael Audrey Myers. Committed for the murder of his sister, Judith Myers, on this past Halloween."
"What's so special about that?" the man inquired.
"He was only six, Sam."
Sam frowned. "I see. What have they diagnosed him with?"
"That's the thing. They haven't found anything wrong with him. He was mentally healthy when he committed the murder."
"You're telling me," pondered Sam, "that this boy just snapped for no reason whatsoever, and killed his sister simply because he could?"
"We have no other motive at the moment. He will not talk to us, and the parents stated the two did not quarrel at home beyond the usual sibling rivalries. There's - there's nothing left."
"Where is his room?" Sam opened the door into the lobby, Terence following.
"Room 714. East hall."
The two arrived quickly at his room. Peering through the narrow, rectangular window, they looked upon the boy.
He simply sat in front of a wall. He did not move.
"He's done that for three days now," Terence said. "He hardly even eats anymore. It's not right."
Sam nodded. "How long is he staying?"
"Until he's 21. Then he'll be tried by the state as an adult."
Terence opened the door. Sam walked into the room; immediately noticing the change in temperature. The boy continued to stare at the wall.
"Michael?"
The boy didn't move.
"My name is Doctor Loomis. I'm your new psychologist...it's nice to meet you."
Nothing.
"I'll be talking to you for a while. Until you leave here."
Loomis was getting nowhere. A look of gloom came over Terence.
"Michael, please listen to me."
The boy rose up. He rotated the chair in a robotic, trancelike movement that was eerily unnatural. Then he took his seat again.
The boy's face chilled Loomis to his very core. It was completely, utterly, and creepily blank. It was pale and unnerving. His eyes, however, were black, deep, and evil. It was like they were a machine of their own, as if they were planning the best way to torture him. He had never seen anything like it.
This would be a long fifteen years.
