Chapter Text
The trees loomed over the dirt pavement, their long branches outstretched like claws ready to strike the rustic bus that encased its most recent batch of visitors.
Unwelcomed.
That was the feeling creeping from the back of Michael's neck as he looked out the window seat from the back of the bus.
The other children were blissfully unaware of the foreboding energy that steadily grew stronger as they approached the campsite. Rather, the children were loudly laughing and leaning over torn gray leather seats chatting amongst themselves. Oblivious to the strange forces that seem to whisper the gruesome fate that lies for each and everyone of the vehicle's passengers if they chose to continue further.
A trio of boys who were playfully shoving each other, caught Michael's interest in particular.
One of them, the taller of the three with short brown hair, had studied Michael briefly before turning to the other two and mumbled something to them, causing them to glance at Michael for themselves and promptly laugh.
Michael was familiar with the type of children like them back at home. Ones that tease and attack those who they deem as odd, outsiders, or weak enough to target. He had learned to bottle up his anger and not retaliate, instead he simply kept a mental collection of all the transgressions they've taken against him and of his mother.
The desire for bloodlust had been persistent then, but it was temporarily satiated when he murdered his father and sister. He had planned the same fate for the others, but that night he had jumped too quickly at the opportunity, spurred by encouragement from the whispers from within himself, and had suffered the consequences.
Michael was currently granted temporary freedom, and his resistance to his inner whispers persuasions have grown stronger in his time being isolated.
The boy planned to not waste this opportunity like he did the previous one.
No, he needed to consider his actions rather than succumb to desire.
However, if these children chose to become an annoyance he would allot their suffering to his plans.
The counselor at the front of the bus paid no mind to the ruckus, neither was the young woman, Virginia "Ginny" Field, seated across from Michael.
Ms. Fields, whom Michael dubbed his “handler” for the duration of his stay.
The other young occupants were kept to the front and Michael was directed to the back of the bus alongside the blonde woman, away from the other children lest he decides to harm them.
Ginny kept her eyes ahead, occasionally glancing at Michael leaning against the gray tattered seat. She attempted to talk to the boy at the start of the trip, but she assumed Michael was shy from her initial attempt to greet him.
Michael behaved now as he did then, he kept his gaze forward, facial expression neutral, and not uttering a word. Quiet and unmoving, as if the boy was unreal and simply a figure. Unnerving, if Ginny had to be honest.
It was only a few hours ago when Michael's dedicated psychiatrist Dr. Loomis formally introduced Michael to Ginny. The Doctor took the time to re-explain Michael's special situation to the owner of the camp's assistant.
Odd had been the word she would have chosen then at the time rather than unnerving.
The assistant watched Michael from the corner of her eye.
The boy had not shown one change from his neutral expression as his mother hugged him farewell. She excused his passive behavior, as the mother had fought tears and squeezed her son tightly. Perhaps the boy was trying to put on a tough face for his much more emotional mother.
Ginny smiled and leaned over to introduce herself to Michael, though not by much given the boy's impressive stature for his age. It was only then did the boy's gaze meet hers. She tried to keep her smile despite the chill that crept up her spine.
Michael’s blue eyes had pierced through her own sage green ones. In his icy stare she felt as if he probed her very soul, scanning her for only a moment before coming to a conclusion, then seeing right through her. It was as if she wasn’t worth another thought, unworthy of his attention, like she wasn’t even there.
Ginny had some prior experience with troubled children, given that she studied to be a child psychiatrist, and decided to steel her resolve. So she prompted Michael to introduce himself, but there was no verbal response from the boy. Ginny tightened her smile.
That was fine.
They had all summer and Michael was bound to open up, Ginny reassured out loud for both herself, the boy, and the mother who seemed a bit hesitant to let her son go on this experimental camping trip.
Mrs. Myers still loved her son dearly despite the heinous act he committed. But she would admit that it took some time for her to come to terms and forgive her son.
Michael was only six and she was forced to see her son grow up from the opposite side of a visitors table.
Overtime Michael had began to show no emotion, give no responses, or any reaction to any outside stimuli.
Before that night the boy had been a bit more temperamental, a unique curiosity, and constantly observing his surroundings.
Now Michael seemed like a husk.
She feared with each passing year Michael would dive deeper and deeper into a comatose state.
How could he not when he was forced to live his childhood alone with only the psychiatric staff and his own thoughts to keep him company?
Mrs. Myers had spoken her concerns out loud and was relieved to hear that Dr. Loomis agreed with her to an extent.
The doctor had always handled Michael with curiosity and the notion of having the boy interact with children his age in a foreign setting was all the more alluring.
Summer camp was one of the options proposed at the forefront for this experiment, given that the season was fast approaching and the inherent social interaction in a supervised environment made the option all the more hard to pass up.
Admittedly, finding a program that would accept a special case such as Michael's proved difficult. With so many hours of searching and unpromising phone calls all seemed lost.
At least until a newly instated summer camp program in New Jersey was brought to his attention.
Dr. Loomis spoke with Miss Virginia Fields and was pleased to find that Ms. Fields was an aspiring child psychiatrist. Given Michael's well known case it was quite easy to see how it piqued her interest. The doctor appealed to the young woman’s empathy for the boy. In addition to Michael's good behavior at the ward, Dr. Loomis made sure to mention he would put in a good word for Ginny for her future career for good measure. Extensive talks took place and with much convincing from Fields, Mr. Paul Holt, the program owner, agreed to admit Michael to attend the newly opened Camp Packanack.
The process seemed lengthy and even on the flight from Illinois to New Jersey seemed surreal. Now, time seemed to accelerate as Mrs. Myers watched her now 15 year old son board the bus alongside the young assistant. Mrs. Myers prayed and hoped with all her heart that nothing went awry. But hope as she might she can't ignore the nagging unease at the back of her mind that all this might be a bad idea.
For Michael, it wasn't lost on him of Dr. Loomis's true intentions. The boy knew what was expected of him, the Doctor and his mother both voiced as much. But he pushed them aside as he always had. He wouldn't amuse their wants, but not directly put an effort to defy them either. No, Michael planned to do the same he had always done upon his admittance to the ward.
Bide his time and wait for opportunity.
His only challenge was suppressing the whispers inside him that led him to do so otherwise.
Whispers, Dr. Loomis coined the term as he suspected an entity lied inside of Michael, and Michael found himself adopting the term despite it not befitting what it actually is.
It was more of a sense and a desire, a lure that voices the boy's natural instinct for a lack of better description.
It heightens his awareness, especially in situations as the one he currently finds himself in.
Admittedly, Michael has never quite experienced such a foreboding feeling from a location like this before. It piqued his innate curiosity. Perhaps his stay here will prove more than simply an opportunity for a means of escape.
Michael felt the threat of a small spark of excitement flicker in his gut.
The bus parked outside an entrance, "Camp Packanack" carved into a wooden sign hung above the open entry. The counselor stood from her seat at the front of the bus, standing front and center and announced their arrival. The children promptly sat up and followed the counselor out of the vehicle.
"Let's go Michael," Ginny smiled standing up, allowing Michael to walk ahead of her.
The counselor introduced herself as Vickie and the other counselors, who stood at attention beside her, to the group of children. There were 6 counselors in total, Michael noted to himself, and assessed them. Four of the counselors already demonstrated behavior that irked him.
Terry, to begin, had altered her uniform, tying her shirt to a crop top and her shorts too close to the curve of her ass.
Scott, to her left, unashamedly staring at the exposed skin and leaned his hand to subtly squeeze her backside. To which Terry gave him a swift glare and shoved her elbow into his side.
The other two, Sandra and Jeff, seem to also be coupled off. Sandra muttered something under her breath which made Jeff chuckle. Both of them slowly hooking their hands together, clearly not paying attention to the other counselor's talk.
Not surprising, but still behavior Michael found brought a familiar itch he hadn't had since he had last seen his older sister.
The remaining counselor, Mark, bound to a wheelchair stood beside Vickie and seemed to be the only one to be paying attention to the introduction.
Michael felt a small pocket of pressure at the corner of his neck. The familiar feeling was unmistakable to Michael.
They were being watched.
The boy turned his head subtly to the side and carefully scanned the wooded area. There was nothing that struck out immediately to him, but given Michael's experience he knew first looks could be deceiving.
Suddenly, his eyes caught a small pair of glowing blue spheres. At first the boy thought they were too bright to have been eyes, but for a moment they locked onto each other and there was a brief feeling of recognition. The energy from the set of spheres was similar to the one he had been feeling since he arrived.
After that fleeting moment, the lights faded into the dark shadows of the vegetation.
How curious.
Vickie Perry wasn't sure what to expect when Ginny told her about Michael. Admittedly, she prepared for an extremely aggressive boy who could turn on a dime. But instead young Michael Myers was quiet and almost lifeless.
Boring if it wasn't so unsettling, off putting and the other children definitely agreed as much given that none of them interacted with him or wanted to be around him.
Given Michael's age he was eligible to partake in the older kids' activities such as wood carving, but given his circumstances he wasn't allowed to be around sharp objects.
But that wasn't much of a problem as Michael refused to participate in almost any activity. The supplies and instructions were given to him, but the boy would just quietly stare blankly. Ginny had defended the boy's behavior and believed that he would eventually garner the confidence to participate.
After the first two days of failed attempts to get Michael to participate the other counselors were quick to give up.
Maybe Michael was just too shy? Or perhaps anxious?
Vickie couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for him.
Michael was placed in an isolated cell for most of his life, Vickie wouldn't be surprised if all of this wasn't at least a bit overwhelming for him.
The only type of activity Michael seemed to show a bit of interest towards was arts and crafts.
Michael was given a wide berth since no other camper wanted to sit by him. As expected it didn’t deter him from participating. His artistic ability was quite impressive, especially when working with sculpting or drawing. One would expect such as disturbed child to draw equally disturbing art, yet that didn’t quite fit the case.
Rather, most of his works were still art of scenery and of people. There were drawings of the forest scenery and, what Vickie assumed, of Michael’s mother and sisters.
As impressive as the young boy’s art was, it paled in comparison to what Michael produced during their mask making activity.
Ginny deemed it harmless enough despite Michael refusing to participate in any activity other than making masks after they introduced it to him. The masks each varied distinctly from the other and weren’t grotesque or monstrous per say. One mask in particular the boy had created was a simple neutral face painted white. There were no distinguishing features to warrant such an attachment to the piece, but the boy tilted his head in admiration of his creation.
And he demonstrated as much by wearing it constantly. Vickie and the other counselors had their reservations over this behavior, but Ginny forbade them from confiscating Michael’s masks. Her reasoning: a theory she’d like to test, would Michael adopt a new character while wearing the mask? One more confident and more approachable person?
And admittedly, to not upset the boy by taking his things.
It’s easier to avoid any unnecessary conflicts that way.
And so Michael continues to wear his white ghost-like mask and watch his fellow campers from afar.
Over time, Michael's inactivity and calm demeanor allowed him more leniency. Michael was allowed to roam the camp grounds to occupy himself, under the supposed supervision of at least one of the other counselors. But assuming that the counselors were keen on such a responsibility let alone uphold it was optimistic.
Each counselor was preoccupied with their current responsibilities, while others focused their attention to other things entirely.
Such as two counselors, Sandra and Jeff, who decided that venturing off to the privacy of the woods was a higher priority than assisting Vickie watch over the children while they ate in the cafeteria.
The young couple snuck past the cafeteria doors, making their way past the campgrounds. Both unaware that they were being silently trailed by Michael.