Upheaving Crooked Orchards

Part Six

   Michael watched her grab a long rod--a pick of sorts. He looked around the room and noticed dried bloodstains that seeped into the paint of the walls and floors, impossible to remove. The tool she was holding also had the same stains on it. 

  "Try and relax, okay? It will all be better soon." She looked at the young man before her.

  All of the sessions with Kavell made Michael look dead as is, and he was already deemed catatonic, he was curious why Kavell instructed for this procedure to take place. He noticed that the nurse couldn't make full eye contact with his bleeding eye. She held the pick and put it up to his cheek before reeling back to get ready to send it above his eyelid. As she lunged it forward, Michael ripped himself free from the leather shackle and grabbed her arm. She let out a scream as he sat up and stared into her eyes. He tore his other arm away from its shackle and grabbed the pick out of her hand. Michael pulled her down to the table, took the pick and shoved it through her eye. He pulled it out, stood from the table and threw her body to the ground. He opened the door and stormed down the bleak hallway. The patients gathered around and stared at him, unable to tell what he'd done, but able to sense his anger. Michael moved slow but still made long strides to clear more area. He saw the doctor who lead him to this ward, grabbed him from behind and shoved the pick in the back of his neck. He ripped it out and stabbed him again in the same spot before throwing his body aside. The patients huddled around the body--the ones who weren't catatonic--and decided to follow Michael out of this section of the ward. 

  Michael flung the doors open and returned to his usual area of Smith's Grove. As usual, one of the patients were being badgered by an annoyed nurse. Lenard turned towards the sudden burst of noise, saw the bloodied pick and rolled towards him.

  "Did they get you too?" He asked, unable to keep still. 

  Michael whirled his head towards the nurse, walked up to him and grabbed him. He dropped the pick but wrapped his hands around the nurse's throat. Michael overpowered him and knocked him to the ground, pinning him down with his knees. He reached over to pick his weapon back up and forced it into the nurse's mouth, puncturing the back of his throat. He stood up, leaving the pick where it was and went to leave to find more staff members. The other patients saw the violence against the crooked nurses and began to shout. The guards were alerted, ran to the lounge area and began to beat the patients. They retaliated, kicking and trying to grab any weapon they could. They beat the guards with their bare hands, and when they were grounded, they kept slamming their fists on them. Blood soon splattered the walls and on to the floors, agonizing screams filled the ward as each guard suffered the same fate as each other. Lenard kept out of the way but did let the others know if a guard was coming by. Michael grabbed Lenard's wheelchair handles and rolled him out of the way as a doctor came running up with handcuffs. He clawed at the doctor's face, soon getting a good grip on him and sinking his thumbnail into his eyeball. He felt a pressure release from the man's skull as his eye was punctured. He let go of the man's face and put his hands together, clasped his throat, and pulled it apart, allowing the red liquid to spray on his face.  A sea of enraged inmates stormed around the facility, tearing lights apart for glass weapons, or phones off the walls for their cords. They flooded the ward and trampled the half dead bodies that lied on the floor. 

  They scrambled past Michael to get through the door to find the other doctors. Michael had awoken a sleeping rage that had been biding its time for many years in the patients. Seeing his violence made them aware that it was possible to overthrow them. Lenard couldn't move as fast as the others so he stuck close to Michael--he was aware the young man was able to keep them both safe, even though Michael was mostly concerned for himself. Doctors ran out of their rooms to catch the patients, some were running to escape the facility. Either way, Michael grabbed one and slammed their head on the hard wall a few times, crushing their skull. As he gave one final slam, he dropped his victim but double over against the wall--his muscles were beginning to lock again. His nails scraped the wall as his hands dragged themselves down and closer to his body in a rigid motion. Lenard assumed this was a normal thing for Michael to do, as he'd seen it before.

  Lenard looked to see a doctor running towards them both in an attempt to seize them.

  "Someone's coming." Lenard pointed.

   "Myers, stand down!" The doctor called.

  Michael forced his body to ignore the pains of his frozen muscles, turned and lunged at the doctor, bringing him to the ground. He grabbed a pen from the white coat and stabbed it in the man's jugular. Blood shot out of the wound with a sickening sound and Michael fell over next to the dead body. Lenard wheeled himself towards the tense patient.

  "I don't know how to help you." Lenard panicked.

  Michael grabbed a chair sitting by the wall and helped himself up, dragging his legs as his body was hoisted into the seat. He didn't sit down but did use the chair to help him stand. He let an exhausted grunt leave his mouth before turning and going down the hallway the other patients avoided. He ignored his twitching muscles as he hunted for other members of staff in the facility. He assumed the patients may have run into a breaker as the lights began to flicker. They stayed on for as long as possible until one final flick sent them all off, causing even more panic amidst the ward. Now neither patient nor doctor could see well--the moon was the only thing that allowed any visibility of their surroundings as it crept through the windows.