Samara Elizabeth Weeks, patient number A29-32, wasn't typically considered a problem among the staff at Smith's Grove. Most of them actually didn't mind watching her or interacting with her, because she wasn't all that dangerous compared to some of the others. The only thing she ever did was draw; she would accept it in any way, shape, or form. Most of the staff simply sat down beside her, gave her a coloring book and box of crayons or a tablet and pencil, and watched her fill in the pre-drawn lines or create her own visions.

Her drawings may not have been the best in the world, but they were certainly seen as the best in Smith's Grove at least. Nobody ever really saw her put the finishing touches on the pictures, such as adding shadows and signing her name, but somehow they got completed. When they were completed, she made sure they were displayed. When her newest nurse or "babysitter" came in her cell, she would poke them with her latest finished work, insisting that it be put on show in the main hallway. They would usually smile, tell her they'd put them up later, and stuck them in a folder. But they never did.

Why? Samara's drawings were considered far too gruesome and upsetting to be shown anywhere but in her own cell, or sometimes staff meetings. Her pictures consisted mostly of gore, violence, and a healthy dose of sharp objects, usually forks - giant forks, most of the time. When someone pissed her off, Samara drew herself stabbing them in the neck, chest, or nether regions with a fork so massive it would be unwieldy in real life, but not in her drawings. She even drew the blood, spurting out as if she knew exactly which angle and direction it came out in.

And she probably did. Everyone who worked there (and some of the patients themselves) knew that Samara had killed before. It was certainly no secret. A popular sixteen-year-old girl with a seemingly ideal life had just snapped one day and murdered her father, stepmother, and nine-year-old stepbrother. That wasn't where it had stopped either. She'd killed several more people (some of her friends who ran in the popular circles) before her biological mother and brother had stopped her and pleaded insanity when she was taken to court. That was how she'd wound up in Smith's Grove.

When it was discovered that the treatments they tried on her weren't working, and Samara seldom took them anyway, they stopped the pills and just focused on keeping her calm, comfortable, and most of all happy (so she wouldn't go on a killing spree) until they could think up something that might have the slightest chance of working for her. They kept her drawing, promising to hang her pictures up, and never did.

Samara's drawings were some of the most violent things in the world, but they were also among the most tragically beautiful.

Other than her disturbing pictures, Samara was relatively normal for somebody who was at Smith's Grove. The staff commented that sometimes it didn't even seem like she could be a killer; she was just a sweet, innocent girl. Even though she didn't really smile a lot, nobody really felt threatened around her. She usually didn't cause a lot of unrest in the sanitarium, as she was mostly quiet and kept to herself. But a particular sort of... problem had arisen with her.

Samara was fine when left alone in her cell. She didn't care about new people except when she came out of her cell. When she had first been introduced to all of the inhabitants when she arrived, she had been fine. But she was often upset by new people who came. Whenever she came out for her meals, and she saw people she didn't know who had recently been admitted to Smith's Grove, she would become distraught. She would either attempt to hide from them by running behind her nurse or she would try to attack them by coming at them with one of her pens. If she attacked them, all she usually ended up doing was poking them in the arm because she was afraid that if she hurt new people they would do worse to her. (This somewhat annoyed some of the patients, but they just shook their heads and waved her away.) Her hiding or attacking could typically be prevented by just having her sit somewhere away from the new people.

But earlier that year, she had begun a situation that worried nearly all of her nurses and companions. In her desperate need to be accepted as who she was, by people other than the staff (who didn't really accept her anyway), and also her raving paranoia, she became infatuated with another patient. It was not unheard of at other places, but it was quite uncommon at Smith's Grove. It was sort of cute when Samara began to replace her normal gory drawings with doodles of her name and his name trapped in a big heart surrounded by little hearts. It was cuter when she would sometimes ask her nurses to find out if he knew her name. It wasn't cute, however, when every aspect of her life slowly began to revolve around that one man. The only problem with her infatuation was the fact that it was gradually turning into far more than a simple crush; it now bordered on an obsession.

He was the only new patient she hadn't either been afraid of or tried to stab with her pen. In fact, she smiled when she saw him for the first time - actually smiled, not smirked like she was going to kill somebody. She had expressed desire to talk to him, but had also said she feared he might not like her, or that she might say the wrong thing and then he would think she was stupid. No one had told her otherwise, though Dr. Loomis had been thinking about it.

Samara had been this way for almost six months now. She stayed shut up in her cell except for meals, and she just drew the entire time; that was normal for her. But it was odd because the subject of her drawings was what changed. If she took coloring pages, which was rare now, she demanded they be custom drawn so that they contained a very tall man who wore a mask and a woman in a knee-length dress with a pen and sketchbook. It was obvious who they both were.

And when she drew her own pictures, which she did more frequently, they were always the same thing, over and over. Albeit her subject was set in different poses and in different clothes (Samara had once attempted to draw him nude, but once her nurse realized that she was drawing him shirtless the paper and pencil were taken from her, and it didn't happen again), but it was always the same person. It was her infatuation, every time, for six entire months. She just sat there and drew him, occasionally looking up as if hoping to snatch a glimpse of him. All she drew now was him, and as she did, all she ever said was his name, in a whispering tone like a lover: "Michael..."

It wasn't hard for the staff to see how strong her obsession with Michael Myers was. They just weren't sure if it was really a good thing.

THANKS SO MUCH FOR CLICKIN' ON MAH STOREH.

Well, um. Explanation? Hmm. Don't really have one. I WAS happily writing my Jason Voorhees fic (wanna check it out? :D) and I remembered that I'd read about Mikey and he seemed like a real sweetie. (Even though he's a serial killer. Teehee plz.)

So I decided it was HIGH TIME I made one for lovable little Mikey. Just like with my Jason fic (for those of you who've read it), I haven't seen any of the Halloween movies. Unfortunately. I tend to focus more on the psychological things than the violence and stuff, which in all honesty scares me a little. But once again, I HAVE done mah homework on dear Mikey. I've read his bio thingy, I've read how other authors write him and I think I can do him fairly well. Tell me if I'm doing him wrong? Though he hasn't really done anything yet... XD But don't worry, he will take an active part in chapter 3! This chapter was kind of an introduction to Samara.

Oh yeah, Samara. I was originally going to use the name Samantha, but then I found out that was the name of another character in Halloween. Then I tried Tiffany, and someone said that was ALSO a character in Halloween but they didn't care. So I just changed her name to Samara because I still wanted people call her Sam sometimes, and Samara sounds a little more... hmm... sinister than Samantha. Anyone know "Samara's Song"? It's the creepiest song in the universe, I listened to it almost on an continuous loop while writing the second chapter... XD

Oh yeah! Before I forget, I need to explain the name of the story a little bit. Oxytocin. Yeah. It's a chemical or hormone in the body that is released during certain stressful situations. The most common of these situations is when a woman gives birth. Her body (as well as the father's body) release oxytocin, which causes the mother and father to form an extremely strong attachment to the baby (and the father to the mother). It's a way of "keeping the family together", so to speak. It is also released during the disorder known as Stockholm Syndrome, where a victim forms an attachment to their kidnapper or the person holding them hostage. As for Samara, well... you'll see what her problem is. All in due time, my pretties, all in due time...

Ummmmm... review or... Mikey will come after you with his steak knife thingy? ^^; Is that okay with you, Mikey?

Michael: *sharpening his knife* *looks over at me and shrugs*

Me: Um, okay... *walks off grumbling* Phantom of the damn Opera over there can't give me a straight f'ing answer... I'ma steal Jason's knife and stab him while he sleeps!

Michael: *hovering behind me with his knife*

Me: Eep... I was just kiddin', Mikey! ^^; Can't take a joke either...