InsaneJournal

Michael Guerin & Christine Chapel

What: Corn Maze Trauma
Where: Inside the maze
When: Sunday
Warnings: Trauma, Injury, and such (but not gore)
Status: Open

The maze was messing with his senses. He'd seen his brother-in-law who was dead, killed by Max back home. He'd relived the night it appeared that Isobel killed Rosa Oretcho and the other two girls. He'd seen Caulfield Prison blow up, with his mother still inside. In his warped mind, he'd seen Alex blown to bits by a roadside bomb in Iraq, and then he'd seen trapped in a cell at Caulfield along with Max and Isobel and all the other aliens, helpless in the face of imminent destruction. He'd struggled with very real monsters, creatures straight out of horror movies, mostly grossly exaggerated killer alien type beings with an apparent hunger for his blood.

Somehow, he'd found a quiet place. A secluded corner of the maze. He could hear the screams still, of course he could hear the screams. There was one in particular that threatened to shatter his eardrums, but he'd gotten far enough away from that that it was now a dull roar. His phone was nearly dead, his flashlight probably wasn't going to last much longer. He switched both off to conserve what power they had left, and in the absolute darkness, he felt the cold emptiness creep into his skull.

Max was gone. Michael's psychic powers were weak, his connection to Max and Isobel wasn't anytihng as strong as what the so called twins felt for each other. But he felt it. Vague, yet always present, a slow pulse deep in his subconscious. In the midst of the maze it gave him comfort to know Max was out there, that maybe if he survived this thing he could work on his relationship with Max. But in darkness it was stripped away, and Michael knew Max was gone.

He dropped to his knees and pounded his fist on the ground. It wasn't much, but it made him feel better. He didn't scream, screaming didn't help, and there were plenty of people screaming all around the maze. He didn't want to join the chorus of utter fear and helplessness. He wasn't afraid at the moment, he was mad. He was hurt and he was angry.

His balled up left hand slammed against the ground, his once mangled fingers shattering on impact. Max had healed his hand without his consent, but it had never felt right. And now, dropping to sit on his ass there on the ground, his hand cradled in his lap, the pain reminded him of Max who was now gone, and of Alex who waited for him outside the maze. If he got out of this hell hole, he was going to try to make things right with Alex, because he couldn't make it right with Max now.