Upheaving Crooked Orchards

Part Seven

Michael didn't follow the screams but instead followed the orders being shouted to the live and unbothered doctors. As he was walking down this hall, he turned and saw a room--a room he knew all too well. It was the electric room. Somehow, despite the lightless facility, the room was still vibrant and white--too clean. Michael stared in it for a while, remembering all the hours he spent in there. A clatter from a hallway to his left sent Michael to seek shelter in a corner. Lenard backed away from the rooms in general, hoping the tall man would be able to take care of himself. A doctor ran into the wall and stopped to find which way he was headed. He had his back turned to Michael, but the patient knew exactly who he was--it was Kavell. Michael remained calm as he eyed the doctor, he was originally going to walk up behind him and break his neck, but his body had different plans. Fifteen years of constant tests boiled down in him--he lunged from the shadows and jumped on the back of his doctor. He'd seen a patient do this so many years ago, but still remembered how to cling on to someone. He wrapped his long legs around Kavell's torso, catching him by surprise. Michael fumbled with his hands, tearing at his doctor's shirt. He grabbed the center of his shirt and ripped it apart, sending the buttons flying everywhere, causing a loud clacking sound as they hit the floor.

  "Get off me!" He shouted.

  Michael dug his left hand underneath Kavell's ribcage and sunk his nails into the flesh. He used his right hand to grab the doctor's jaw and forced his head to move to the side, exposing his neck. Kavell couldn't move--if he did, Michael would either tear his chest or pull his ribcage up, that or rip his jaw. Michael moved his head with haste at the doctor's neck and closed his mouth on an area of exposed flesh. He wasted no time sinking his teeth into the area--Kavell grew frantic as he realized what Michael was doing, but panicked when he knew how trapped he was. The more he struggled, the deeper Michael's teeth went. He finally clenched his teeth and pulled away, tearing a massive chunk of skin and gore away from the man. Blood exploded from the injury and the two fell to the hard ground. Michael made quick work to stand up, but Kavell was left squirming on the ground trying to stop the bleeding from his neck. He looked up, horrified at the sight he'd just witness--Michael dropped the chunk of flesh at Kavell's feet and wiped his mouth of the loose blood. The two locked eyes and Michael walked up to him, grabbed his legs, and dragged him to the electric room.

  Lenard watched as the two silhouettes disappeared--from the sounds of it, Kavell was being cut left, right, and center. Michael was sure to not rip any vitals from the doctor, just enough to keep him from fighting back. Michael found the tray with all the tools and let his creativity do all of the work. The one thing he made sure to do was hook him to his beloved machine. He put every patch he could find on to Kavell's body.

  It had been a little bit, but Michael left the room, looking to target the other doctors. Lenard trailed behind him, not wanting to be left in the dark alone. Michael never seemed to notice Lenard was there--or at least wasn't concerned for him as he never looked back to check if his fellow inmate was still nearby. Michael stopped to listen for more staff members--he'd never been in this section of the facility, so he had to go based off noise. He knew the others were nearby--the smeared blood along the floor and walls were a giveaway. He saw dark figures scattered across the ward and knew they were bodies--patients and doctors. He strolled through the hall of crooked corpses, their limbs broken and contorted, but Michael paid no mind to any of it. He walked in front of a large window, his silhouette and shadow merged as one as the moon painted the hall with pearlescent silver. The blood that soaked his hands and mouth were the same black color as the abyss of his shadow. The soft distant cries coated the air, it came as a mere whisper--the patients were a little far from him. He stopped moving--someone was nearby.

  A doctor came out of a locked room--they were hiding from the chaos but unaware of the man standing in the hall. They cracked the door open, Michael took to the shadows. As they emerged from their room, the tall patient wasted no time in grabbing them. He pulled  them close but turned them around so he was pressed against the doctor's back, his left arm wrapped around their chest.  He used his right hand to grab the fleshy bit under his jaw line and sunk his large nails in the crevice of bone and fat. Once he felt his nails were deep enough, he gripped the chunk and tore upwards, ripping his soft cheek. The pain burned the doctor--a torch to their face--they slammed their hand to the missing half of their face and let out a screech. Michael turned them around to stare at his work before grabbing their throat and squeezing it. He saw the doctor's face--they were male, a little older, but their hair still remained black. His nails punctured the area on his neck, causing more blood to ooze from his victim, with the most strength his arm could muster, Michael ripped the man's throat away from his body, sending him to fall to the floor in a lifeless fashion. Lenard was bothered by the amount of gore but was aware the staff weren't the best. He wasn't able to feel hatred towards them, but something inside him was sad at all the times he'd been beaten or thrown out of his wheelchair--the staff would stand by and watch as he dragged himself back to his seat, but he still had a hard time being angry for what they'd done. 

  Michael pressed himself against the cold wall, trying to listen if someone was coming. He heard multiple footsteps--a group of people were approaching.