The night brought tremendous anticipation and anxiety for everyone. Though they all went to their separate beds and tried to rest, this was a feat proven impossible.
For the murderer, this was because they had to do some further inner reflection on their plan to make sure nothing would go wrong.
For the innocent, this was because they feared each, unsteady breath they took could be their very last.
It was a quiet, sunny day at the courtyard of the hospital. Today, all the patients were inside, leaving Lindsey to stand and walk around the pond in the center. She hummed a merry tune to herself, hoping she could get off work in a few hours so she could go shopping with Aimee; she heard that the mall was having a 2-for-1 special on—
A soft, abrupt crying.
It was like a slow hiccup, like the cry of a ghostly being…
Lindsey held her breath and took a few steps forward. Little Erik was sitting at the edge of the pond, dipping his hand in the water as he always did whenever he came out here, and he was sobbing. Had he been here the entire time and she just missed him?
"Erik?" said Lindsey. She bent down next to the boy and said, "Erik, what's wrong? You can tell me."
The crying stopped.
Erik turned to Lindsey, his eyes sunken and hollow. "You killed me."
Without warning, a giant hand reached out and grabbed Lindsey by the wrist, tightening its grip. "I said I'll kill you before you go to anyone else," said the voice of Vincent.
Lindsey tried to call for help, but her voice box clouded over. She tried to reach out for Erik, but he kicked her down, and she fell deeper and deeper and deeper…
Lindsey's eyes shot open and she gasped. Her room was enveloped in darkness, but she was still here. She was still alive.
Her heart pounded furiously against her chest and she took a few, deep breaths. If I lay perfectly still, she thought, they can't get me…they can't get me…they can't get me…
She turned on her side and reached across the bed. Aimee was not there. She had wanted her sister to stay close by, but it was Max who had insisted that Aimee's body be moved to Michael's room, reminding her that the body would eventually begin to rot and stink.
The body. Her sister's body. The body of the sister who would never wake up again.
Thunder clapped, and Lindsey curled her knees up to her chest. "They can't get me…they can't get me…they can't get me…they can't get me…they can't get me…"
The ocean's waves thundered and crashed above the shrill laughter of the two boys who ran across the rough, sandy shore. Abbott's feet clapped behind him as he raced to catch up with Caleb.
"No far! I want ice cream! Me!" Abbott protested.
"Hahaha, you should've said so in the first place, bro!" laughed Caleb. He licked his chocolate ice cream cone while Abbott pouted.
"Hey, to make it up to you, how about we go swimming?" suggested Caleb. "Just you and me."
Abbott grinned. "Loser pays for the other's ice cream."
The two boys ran into the water, shrieking with laughter and from the icy cold that gripped their ankles. Abbot ran further and further out until—
"I know what you did."
"Huh?" Abbott spun around. Caleb stood above him, his eyes hollow and dark. Suddenly, the ground gave way and Abbott sank slowly, slowly, slowly…..
"I know you betrayed me," said Caleb. "And I don't think you deserve to live for that, do you?"
Abbott tried to reply, but he could only push air out of his throat. He fell and a watery curtain closed over his head.
He was awake, Abbott knew that much. And yet, he couldn't open his eyes.
At last, he dared to open them by just an inch.
When he realized he was still in bed and not in danger of sinking and drowning, he opened them further. It was then he realized his sweaty pyjamas were sticking to his skin.
Abbott gulped and stepped out of bed, shivering as though it were winter and he was caught outside without a jacket. He had locked the door, right? No harm in checking, right?
He cautiously walked over to the door. The lock was turned into position.
Nobody could get in through the bathroom, right?
Unless it was unlocked…
Abbott told himself he was being stupid, but he checked the bathroom door anyway. It, too, was locked.
"This damn weekend's really fucked me up," he sighed. He walked over to the chair by the window and sat down. Next to the chair was a small table with a book. Without reading the title, he picked it up and flipped through it, though he didn't pay attention to the words.
He continued to sit like this until he finally fell asleep, the moonlight shining upon his face.
Max walked down the hall. He wondered if this action made him very brave or very stupid or both. After all, there was still a killer on the loose, and there was a chance he could be next. Yet he couldn't sleep, so what else was there to do? He'd surely go mad if he just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling until the sun came up.
Max wondered if anyone else was awake. Obviously, the events of today and yesterday would've put everyone on edge. Were they awake now, on their guard and prepared to strike at the slightest sign of an invasion? Or had they managed to somehow fall asleep and then stay asleep?