Shining among Darkness

By
WingzemonX

Chapter 23
We are friends

Despite Matilda's success in calming Samara, the rest of the night in Eola was fraught with a thick air of confusion. Samara's room, as well as the hall outside it, had been totally unusable. They still did not know how that area could be re-enabled or if that was possible. And most importantly: how much would it cost? The first thing will be to fix the cast lights. Then, remove the rusty and fallen door, and also the stretcher that was in a similar state. At the same time, it was necessary to clean all the water, and possibly that would be the only thing they could do for that night. Tomorrow they would have to determine what to do with those walls, floors, and ceilings. Meanwhile, the hall would be closed until further notice.

Samara obviously had to be moved to another room. No nurse or doctor had any desire to approach her. Everyone already knew or sensed that she had been responsible for it, and some attacks on several staff members who tried to approach her room while she was still tied. Matilda had to take care of accompanying her for the rest of the night.

The first thing they did was go to a treatment area for a doctor to check the wound on Matilda's hand. Matilda suggested to Samara to wait outside; she didn't want her to see the cut, and that image could disturb her or cause some kind of guilt that got out of control.

"I don't want to be alone," Samara had almost implored her, and Dr. Honey had no choice but to let her accompany her.

Samara sat in a chair, a little away from the table where a female doctor treated Matilda. The doctor frequently looked sideways at Samara apprehensively; she had also asked to keep the door open... in case she had to shout, perhaps. Despite everything, Matilda did not have much to recriminate her. After all, she was the bravest of that place in agreeing to treat her, even if she was accompanied by the source of so much chaos.

The procedure perhaps determined that there should be a couple of nurses, maybe even security guards, outside the door waiting. After all, Samara was still considered a "dangerous patient." But there was no one outside the room. In fact, everything felt quite silent and alone.

In a single day, she had been shot (although she had managed to get the bullets away from her); a huge dog, apparently imaginary, had bitten her ankle; and the invisible hand almost suffocated her from who knows how far. Now her patient had opened a wound in the palm of her hand in an act reflecting fear.

It was too much, too much for one day... and it wasn't over yet.

While the doctor cleaned her cut and sewed it, Samara watched silently from her chair. Her eyes were flushed from everything she had cried, and a pair of dark bags decorated them below. She looked even paler than the day before.

"It hurts?" The little girl asked suddenly, in a weak, almost sleepy voice.

"No, nothing," Matilda replied, smiling, though that was not entirely true. "I hardly feel anything anymore."

Samara ducked her gaze a little.

"It was her," she whispered suddenly, but it was hard to tell if she was saying it to Matilda or herself. "I didn't... I didn't want to do it... she did it..."

"Take it easy, Samara," the psychiatrist whispered softly and slowly. "I'll be fine; I heal fast. In a few days, it won't even show."

The doctor who was healing her was not entirely sure of it but said nothing.

"It was like my mother," Samara murmured again in the same way. "Again, I hurt someone I love..."

Small traces of melancholy peeked through the girl's eyes, but immediately she carved them to hide it.

Once her hand was cured, Matilda accompanied Samara to the showers so she could wash her hair and body, and change clothes. She waited for her outside to finish, and in that period, she had the self-reflection of taking her cell phone; however, it did not turn on. Those minutes it was underwater had obviously not been beneficial; it was still wet and still dirty. She had seen in a video on the internet that it could be useful to put it in a bag of rice, but she wasn't sure how useful that would really be. She had a second phone, the "emergency" phone, which had a number that only the Foundation dialed; however, she had left it in her bag in the reception module.

Already with a clean robe, neat hair and body, Samara was ready to go to her new room. They had to move her to a different area, to a place with less security, a request that Matilda had made since practically her first day there, and that only until then it could be satisfied, despite the not so pleasant circumstances in which it occurred. It was, apparently, nicer than the previous one. In addition to the stretcher, which was somewhat more extensive, it had an armchair for visitors, and even a window that overlooked the garden, although with its respective bars in it.

"This room is a little nicer than the previous one, don't you think?" Matilda smiled playfully as she laid the girl on the bed. "Try to rest a little, okay?"

"I can't sleep," Samara pointed out urgently, sitting on the stretcher but not lying down. "If I do... she will come for me again."

Matilda took a deep breath, sat in a chair beside the stretcher, and grabbed her gently by her hand.

"No sleep doesn't do anything good for your health, Samara."

The girl looked away, uncertainly. Her reaction was more than expected, due to the dreadful experience she had just been through. And applying a sedative was not recommended at all for exactly the same.

"Tell me one thing," Matilda muttered, again jovial. "Do you always have these nightmares whenever you sleep?"

Samara turned to her slowly, looking at her with her eyes flushed and tired.

"No, not always."

"The last few days, you could sleep peacefully and without nightmares, right? What do you think it was due to?"

Samara squeezed her brow slightly and closed her eyes a little, in a thoughtful gesture almost exaggerated.

"I don't know..." Her thin fingers tightened a little more on the psychiatrist's hand. "I think everything has been better since you arrived. But when I thought you had abandoned me too..."

"I didn't abandon you, and I won't do that, little girl," Matilda hurried to clarify sharply. "If that's what you need, I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep. And I'll spend the night in the waiting room, and so if something happens in the middle of the night they can let me know, and I'll help you as I did a moment ago. So you will be calmer?"

Samara again thought for a few seconds, but then nodded affirmatively. Slowly, she put her head on the soft pillow, although a little rough cover.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry, that's why I'm here," Matilda commented with a wide smile.

The black-haired girl closed her eyes.

"Could you talk with my mother?" Samara whispered suddenly, her voice still quite awake.

Matilda was a little startled, but tried to calm down and clear her mind of any conscious thought about that conversation that the little girl could perceive. The secret, Eleven had taught her, was to concentrate on a specific idea in the background; an image, a landscape, a song, even a joke. Samara's ability in that sense was somewhat small, and she was not able, as far as she had seen, to always activate it consciously. So, it was improbable that she could perceive anything at that right moment. But it was still better not to take risks because the last thing she needed was to be disturbed at that moment when she learned the direction that conversation had taken. Sooner or later, Matilda would have to talk to her, but it wouldn't be that night.

"Yes, I did," she replied as naturally as possible, considering that she was trying to speak at the same time, her inner voice recounted the introduction of Moby-Dick.

"What did she say?"

"We'd better talk about it later, okay?" Matilda then ran her other hand through her hair, gently removing it from the little girl's face. "Now, just sleep."

Samara nodded.

"Is she okay?"

Okay? Again a difficult question to answer, and in which she could not even think directly at those moments.

"They're helping her, just as I help you."

It wasn't quite a lie; what she least liked was lying to her patients. They were helping her, but she doubted how much such help would give favorable results.

She kept holding her hand the entire time she was there until the girl finally fell asleep. Matilda hoped she had a pleasant dream for a change.

— — — —

Who was possibly afraid of not having pleasant dreams that night, was Cody. As he had mentioned in the Portland hospital, he tried to avoid situations that would stress him in such a way that could cause negative thoughts, and mainly nightmares. But all that day had been quite stressful. It was not perhaps the most stressful of his life, but enough to have him uncomfortable.

He and Cole had gone to the dining room for hospital employees, which was totally alone, while Matilda took care of Samara. Throughout that time, the teacher had been quiet and thoughtful. Topics to think about were maybe too many in those moments. However, the one that most occupied his head was undoubtedly that hallway, that room, and the state in which these were. And, perhaps less shocking but equally significant, what the girl had said.

"No, it's real, the monster is real... It's me... I am the monster... I am the monster..."

A slight chill ran down his back every time he remembered it. He was not even fully aware of why his body reacted in this way. It was as if it were some involuntary physiological or psychological reaction... Or, maybe, it was again the Shine, warning him about the imminent danger that he was not yet able to digest at all.

In what had he gotten into...?

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't feel when Cole was returning back to the table he was sitting on. When he noticed from the corner of his eye how the cop sat in another chair, he gave a small nervous startle. Cole had two small glasses of coffee in his hands and placed one of them in front of him on the table.

"A coffee, professor?" He asked with an eloquent smile. Cody looked at the glass for a moment, and then downplayed it.

"I think I drank too much coffee today."

"Then it will be better a beer, maybe," the policeman said wryly. He took a sip of his own glass of coffee, and his face almost immediately drew a grimace of weariness. "Psychiatric coffee. I'm not surprised that people go crazy."

Cole put the glass back on the table, pulling it a little away from him. Cody looked at him sideways, somewhat curious about his attitude so... relaxed. He had practically seen and known the same thing he did about that case, even a little less. And yet he showed no concern.

"You seem quite calm," said Cody bluntly. Cole shrugged.

"Shouldn't I be?"

"I don't know..." Cody leaned a little toward him, resting his arms on the table. "What happened in that hallway... wasn't something 'normal,' right?"

Cole looked at him and outlined a half-smile.

"For people like us, 'normal' is relative, even if it sounds trite."

"Yes, yes, I know. But I don't mean that. What happened there..."

The dining room doors opened at that moment, alerting the two men, but especially Cody. Both relaxed a few seconds to see that who approached them was Matilda, already with her bandaged hand. The fatigue was more than evident in her steps and in her crouched gaze. Both stood up almost immediately and came forward a little to meet her

"How is she?" Asked Cody, taking the initiative.

"Better, as far as possible," Matilda replied hesitantly. She walked between them, dropped into one of the chairs, and left her broken phone on the table. She ran her right hand over her face, carving it, especially in the area of ​​the forehead and temples. At the same time, she let the other hand hang free and lazily. "She already fell asleep, but I don't know how long that lasted. I heard that the other doctors and nurses argue about getting her out of here and sending her back home."

"Would that be a good or bad thing?" Asked Cole, crossing his arms.

"I'm not sure right now. Who has the last word is Dr. Scott, but it seems that he disappeared before all this began, and nobody knows where he went."

"She should leave," Cody suggested. "There is nothing they can do for her here."

Matilda sighed heavily. She leaned toward the table, resting her arms on it and pointed her gaze forward, at the windows reinforced with bars in front that led to the parking lot. That was an area only for hospital staff, and to which patients had no access, at least not regularly. But at that time nobody cared about the presence of the three visitors. Well, two outsiders and she who at least had a permit and a special badge (which she now remembered had left in her bag, like her second emergency phone) to be able to move around those parts.

"Maybe not," Matilda muttered after a while. "But her father seems to be better if he keeps her as far away as possible. And her mother urged me yesterday to kill her for her."

"What?" Cody exclaimed, surprised and alarmed. Yes, with the whole Lily Sullivan affair, she hadn't had time to tell him about that.

Cole walked to the table and surrounded her, standing in front of the psychiatrist, just to block her range of vision. He rested his hands on the flat surface and leaned a little toward her as if he were going to interrogate a suspect in the mere style of police films or series. Matilda looked at him from below, without any impression.

"Well, I think it's time for you to tell us more about this girl, don't you think?" Said the detective in a much more friendly tone than his position indicated. "Eleven told me some things. But I think only you know the most critical data. We are here to help you, so you must share with us everything we need. Don't you believe it, professor?"

Cole turned to Cody for support. He nodded and moved a little to the side of the table.

"I think so," he replied. "I only have some notions for what you told me the other day, but now I really have an interest in knowing the whole story."

Matilda sighed again, tired. She extended her hand to take the cup of coffee that Cody had rejected and took a long drink of it. On his first day in that dining room, and with that coffee machine in the corner, she had wanted to spit her first drink as soon as it touched her mouth. However, with the time she got used to it more, but still let out a rancid groan once she took her drink.

"Okay, I'll give you the details I can share."

Cody and Cole took a seat in front of her, and Matilda began to tell them, without going into much detail, a summary of Samara and her case.

She started at the beginning, telling them about Evelyn, Samara's biological mother, and all the little she could find out about Samara's birth. Then went on to talk about the Morgan's, how they ended up adopting Samara, and the strange events that happened around the girl before the incident of the horses, which was the flame that shot everything else. That was followed by what had happened to Anna Morgan and took advantage of that mention to speak about how fruitless their conversation from the day before was. She gave a review of the tests that Scott and his team had applied to the girl before her arrival, and subsequently, everything she had seen in their different sessions. Again, all this without delving into medical aspects or more personal conversations he had with Samara. Similarly, by their faces, Matilda sensed that everything had become clear.

"And the last thing is what happened today," Matilda concluded when she reached the end, "you heard Dr. Johnson's story and... well, you saw the rest yourself."

Matilda leaned against her chair, relaxed, or at least as relaxed as that little chair allowed her to be. All that remembrance had only added some new sand grains to her already physical weariness.

Suddenly, Cole stood up without saying anything. He walked away a couple of steps and stood straight, turning his back with his hands on his waist in a pose that seemed almost overactive. Cody and Matilda looked at him expectantly.

"Well," he said seriously, perhaps the greatest seriousness he had carried with him since they met him, "now I understand much better why Eleven wanted me to see this case."

"What?" Matilda exclaimed, perplexed, and then she modestly released a slight sarcastic giggle. "And why? I already told you that Samara has never shown any quality of seeing ghosts or anything like that."

"Anything like that, that's the key," said the detective, turning back to them. He looked at both as if he were the school teacher, and they were his students whom he was about to instruct. He took a deep breath and began to speak in a soft and clear tone. "Listen, this is always difficult to explain, even to those already a little familiar with the subject, or who think they are. But this world you see is not the only one that exists. On one side of us, down, up, upside down, there are many others. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Ghosts, or what people know as such, are energies that slide from this world to another, and to another. And when they cross back for ours, people like me can see them, hear them... and even more. That is my ability and others." His expression became even more grim and hard than before. "But, there are other types of energies and beings that are not native to this world, but cross from other darker, more distant and more dangerous places. They enter ours, and when that happens... horrible and unimaginable things happen. People call them in many ways, but perhaps the most usual is... demons."

Matilda and Cody looked confused at the detective, although each person's real feeling was very different.

"Demons?" Murmured Cody.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Matilda said almost immediately, something more assertive.

Cole raised his right hand, pointing imaginary in the direction of Samara.

"There's something in this girl, something unusual, unnatural... and evil. Something demonic, which feeds on her unique Shine, or even worse: uses it to its advantage. I've seen it before, and Eleven too." His bright and deep eyes fixed directly on Matilda. "Your patient, doctor, is the victim of an entity that is not of this world."

Matilda remained silent, looking at him with such great disbelief that she touched on the personal grievance

"You are kidding, right?" She suddenly snapped dry and apprehensive.

"Matilda, come on..." Cody intervened, trying to soften things, but did not have the expected success.

"Come on you, Cody," the psychiatrist said, almost offended. "Demons? Ghosts are one thing, and I accept that there are indeed many who shine that believe in it. But demons? This is stupid."

"Stupid? Really?" They listened to how Cole expressed, perhaps obviously not as offended and annoying as she was, but a little bit of it accompanied him. Up to that point, he had behaved quite casually and calmly, but Matilda's aversive posture might begin to tire him. "Is that your scientific guess, doctor? Tell me, you affirm that you have already treated many children with the Shining before, or not? And you say you have never seen any who can see ghosts. Have you seen anyone who could do what this girl does?"

Matilda crossed her arms, staring at the detective as if they were some accuser faced him without fear.

"No, but it's not the first time I've seen some Shining showing a skill that I hadn't seen before. Samara is unusual; I accept it. But we already have a theory of how her skills work..."

"Matilda," Cody interrupted suddenly. "No, we don't have it."

The brunette turned to see her friend, confused by such words.

"This... this is not like what we thought," Cody tried to explain, although he felt a little nervous when he spoke. "Did you see those walls? They looked like they were from an abandoned building for decades. How that happened?"

"Obviously it was derived from that new skill that Scott and his other assistants cataloged as Projected Thermography. She must have shaped a scene of her nightmare around her."

"That is quite different from creating an image on paper, x-rays, or even in a person's mind. This was a jump too big."

Matilda shrugged.

"Her mood must have provoked it. We have seen many times as when some kids get upset, they completely lose control. You know about that better than anyone."

Cody sighed, also as a small sign of the fatigue he had accumulated. He leaned against his chair and removed his glasses, leaving them on the table. He carved his eyes with his fingers, and then the entire right side of his face.

"And the water?" He pointed out abruptly as if it had been a thought that suddenly came to him. "Where did the water that drained from the walls and covers the floor come from?"

"The toilet, maybe..."

"It was not toilet water," Cody cried suddenly, raising his voice more, "that was puddled and dirty water, as if it came from a stream or... an abandoned well, or I don't know. She couldn't have imagined that and appeared out of nowhere."

"You could do it."

"Yes, but it would cease to exist as soon as I stopped thinking about it. In this case, the walls stayed like that and the water too, although she was no longer even present. And you didn't feel the air around us? Didn't you also feel that overwhelming feeling of heaviness and... death?"

Cody was more than upset: he was afraid. From all the shining ones she knew, Matilda never thought that he would be the one to react that way, considering his story that she knew so well.

Matilda stood abruptly from the table. She took a couple of steps away, holding her head with both hands and closing her eyes for a second.

"And what do you think then, Cody?" Matilda questioned, turning back to her friend. "Do you think she is really possessed by a demon?"

Cody hesitated at the time of reply, quite uncertain.

"I don't know... but I don't feel prepared to say with certainty that it isn't."

Matilda snorted, totally incredulous of what she heard.

"This is the last straw," she stammered slowly as if it were a small curse. He then turned fully to Cole. "Is this why Eleven sent you? Because she thinks Samara is possessed by a demon? Is that the 'another kind of experience' that I needed? Perfect, where do I sign up for the demonology diploma?"

Cole drew a half-smile for her comment, although the rest of his face, especially his eyes, did not seem to indicate that it was because he looked it funny.

"Calm down, I think we're getting a little hot," Cody muttered, standing too; from his position, he was practically between them. "Matilda, I know that all this is difficult and strange, but you don't have to take it out on Cole."

"Oh, now he's 'Cole'?" the doctor answered with an ironic tone.

"He is one of us. Eleven sent him, remember?"

Matilda snorted again as if she wanted to imply that she didn't care. Cole, on the other hand, was really physically tired of the whole trip and hustle, and that entire situation only made it worse. But he did his best to remain as serene as possible, knowing that, in reality, that had not been the worst reaction he had seen in someone after touching that complicated subject.

"Cody is right, we have to calm down," said the detective, somewhat more eloquent. Matilda just thought about how they call themselves as Cole and Cody as if they had been known for a lifetime. "We are friends, or at least on my part we are. Maybe we start with the left foot, and I'm sorry if my way of being can be something... conflicting. I am, in fact..."

"Quite introverted and unsure of himself," Matilda declared sharply, untangling him. She stared at him so intently with those blue eyes that they seemed strong enough to pierce his face. "You grew up being a lonely child, maybe from separated parents, and with average grades. You felt more secure being the class clown, or acting like someone you were not. Over time, you have developed that extroverted and seemingly always lively personality, more like a defense instrument. If you are the one in control of the room, everyone will be so focused on being angry with you that they won't worry about seeing more inside. That has undoubtedly brought you problems in your personal and professional life. But for that reason, you take refuge in your work as much as possible; both, in the police force and the Foundation. You like the idea of ​​helping people and being the hero. It gives you a purpose and justification for your actions and makes you feel special. You tell yourself that you do it selflessly, but, in fact, it is your way of obtaining instant personal satisfaction." She crossed her arms over her torso, not taking her eyes off him. "But I am not a detective, nor a demon hunter. I am Just a simple psychiatrist. What would I know?"

The air in that dining room became much denser and colder than it already was. The smile and good humor had vanished entirely from Cole's face, being replaced by a cold, hard, and even somewhat terrifying look. Cody, still in the middle, looked at each one, not knowing what to say or do.

"And you theorize it by the little we talked today?" The policeman asked, skeptical, to which Matilda responded with a mocking chuckle.

"By the little? You hadn't shut up since we met. You are like an open book."

"Stop!" Cody almost shouted, pushing himself to intervene. He really put himself in the middle of both of them, facing Matilda directly. "What is your problem?"

Matilda was startled, confused by her questioning.

"Mine?"

"Yes, yours," the professor replied harshly. "The only thing Cole has done since we met him is trying to help us, and you have spent all this time attacking him. Why does he bother you so much if you don't even know him?"

"If I had to guess," Cole intervened behind him. He had his hands on his waist, and looked at Matilda over Cody's shoulder, "I'd say she feels threatened."

Again Matilda almost jumped at the sound of it.

"Threatened? Me?"

"Yes, you." Cole moved toward her, stopping him at a short distance, although Cody was still working as a dividing wall between them. Even so, their eyes were crossed, and they were undoubtedly aggrieved. "It seems to me that Eleven told you that she would send someone with 'another kind of experience' to help you, which is the same as saying that she needed in the case someone who knew something you didn't. And that perhaps hurt your pride a little. That's why you are taking it against me even though I only come to help." He crossed his arms, mimicking a little the same posture she had taken a few moments ago. "But I'm not a psychiatrist; I'm just a simple demon hunter detective."

"That's true?" Asked Cody, totally disbelieving that crazy claim. However, the psychiatrist only saw him sidelong for a few moments and then turned away without saying anything... as if she felt ashamed. "Oh, Matilda, come on. That isn't worthy of you."

"Well, apparently it is," she replied quickly, and totally defensively. "And I don't care what Eleven says: Samara is my patient, and what she least needs now is a complete stranger to come and fill her head with the idea that she is possessed by a demon."

"Listen, doctor ..." Cole tried to speak again, but Matilda did not allow it.

"No, you listen to me. Trying to explain what is not understood by attributing it to spirits and demons is precisely the way of thinking that led several like us in the past to be persecuted and treated as monsters."

"Monsters like Carrie White?" Cole snapped without a glance, and those only four words made everything inside Matilda crumble.

Again a deep and cold silence formed, and to say that the air had become dense was to fall short.

"Hey, wait... don't overdo it..." Cody tried to intervene, standing in front of Cole, but he seemed so determined to touch that button that he completely ignored him.

"Yes, that was something more that everyone told me when I asked about the great Matilda Honey and her biggest failure within the Foundation." He continued in a rather sharp tone of defiance. Matilda just looked at him in silence, stoic. "Is that what this is about? Do you protect this girl because she reminds you of Carrie White? To avoid believing in ghosts, it seems like one is seeking you right now, doctor..."

If he had anything else to say, he could no longer do it because, at that moment, his body was drastically pushed back, until he was thrown several meters against one of the dining room tables, which was knocked down by his weight creating a loud rumble. For his part, the detective ended up sitting on the floor, stunned and surely hit. Cody jumped back from the impression. He looked at Cole lying on the ground, and then looked at Matilda, with some fear in his actions. Matilda looked so earnestly at the police officer that her eyes almost seemed to release sparks of fire.

Had she pushed him with her telekinesis? That was more than sure. Had she done it on purpose, or had it been a mere reflex act? That was in doubt.

"Matilda... what are you doing?" Cody muttered, still unable to leave his astonishment.

The brunette seemed to react, even a little, to hear his voice. She turned to see him for a moment, without changing the expression on her face. Later, without saying anything, she turned to the table, picked up her broken phone, and hurried toward the dining-room's door. Cody thought about telling her something, but all his thoughts led him to the conclusion that it was better to let her go, at least for now. Matilda opened the double swing doors at the same time with some violence, and they closed themselves behind her.

When Matilda had already left, Cole began to try to get up, staggering a little in the attempt and falling back down like a drunk man in his worst state.

"You went too far," Cody exclaimed as a complaint. He approached him then, offering a hand to help him stand up. "That is not a theme you can be playing with, especially with Matilda. Why did you do that?"

Cole looked distractedly at the hand that extended him, and as he could, took it and helped himself to stand up. Already standing, his balance felt a little more stable.

"Things were not going well," he explained. "I thought that putting all our cards on the table at once would be the best way to end this as quickly as possible."

"And how did it work out for you?"

Cole looked up silently at the doors Matilda had left.

"We'll see."

END OF CHAPTER 23