Late 2011...
I've got a fetish for these kicks,
Fe-fetish for these jeans
A fetish for my hoodie, gotta have it I'm a fiend
Fe-fetish for these kicks
A fetish for these jeans
Fetish for my hoodie, fe-fe-fetish fetish fetish
The music was blaring. It was the biggest party he'd ever been to. So many people, so much alcohol. John was standing in the corner, observing while Treasure was in the middle of the room, her back arched and her head swinging around. Ever since we've been married, she's been a fucking animal, he says to himself. The song ends, and another meaningless rap song comes on. Treasure smiles at a couple of people and then walks over to him. She kisses his neck, and grabs his belt. "Hey Babe, havin' fun?" she asks, her face red from dancing and a huge smile on her face. "You know, I'm not sure this is really my...thing." John says, looking around at the dancing crowd.
"Oh come on, hun, just loosen up. This is one night you can just let loose, and have fun," She persuades, pulling out a pocket mirror to check herself. John looks at her with annoyance in his glassy eyes. "Fine, whatever. You never want to have fun. Look, that shit happened over a year ago. It's time to move on." Treasure says, her bright blue eyes matching his eyes. John looks to the floor, his hands buried in his pockets. "Fine. Go home, I don't give a fuck. You can go sulk in your room, while I have a good time." She fires. She throws the car keys at his chest and goes back to the dance floor.
John sighs and looks out the window, seeing a dark figure watching from a distance.
Present times...
"R-Ricky?" I manage to mudder out, still blinded by the sun. "Lucky you." he says turning me over and untieing me. I take a moment, then I stand to my feet. "What happened, Ricky? Why was I tied up?" I ask calmly. I may have been calm on the outside, but on the inside I was a wreck. What happened to Treasure? Is she alive? "Well, when I caught up to you guys, you were on the floor and..." Ricky pauses. I look at him intently, "And? Why was I tied up, and what about Treasure?" I say demandingly.
"I tied you up because you were kicking and punching when I tried to get you in the truck, and...umm...sorry, kid." Ricky says in a low tone of voice, his head down. "She's...dead?" I manage to choke out. My eyes widen, my body cold, goosebumps pop up on my arm. "I'm sorry, when I got there, it was already too late." Ricky says, putting his hand on my shoulder. I sit down in the back of the delivery truck. "M-Michael, why didn't he kill me?" I question. "I'm not sure, when I got there, he was no where to be seen."
I clench my hands into fist. Michael, this is it. This is the end, FUCK YOU MICHAEL! I will rip your fucking head off. I'll tear you apart! You worthless bastard!
Halloween: Temptations
After-well, I'm not sure how long I was sulking in the back of Ricky's truck, I took a moment to look at where we were. We were at a hotel, or, what used to be a hotel. "W-what are we doing here?" I ask, cringing at my shaky, raspy voice. "It's a place to stay for now, we're going to keep moving. The faster we move, the less chance we have of that fuckin' creep catching up to us." he replies, putting all of his weapons and things in this back pack.
He walks towards the entrance of the barely standing hotel. I choke back my depression, and follow after him, rubbing my aching wrist. Ricky lays his hand on the broken glass door, it falls to the ground. "Ar'ight boy, this place may not be the most stable, but it'll do." Ricky says, looking around at the rubble. I didn't reply. I stare down at my feet, depression taking over. Ricky looks at me with remourse. "I'm going to go find a room, Boy." Ricky says softly, going up the creeky steps of the hotel. I sit on the floor, and I think. The world is gone. It's over. Why are we even trying to live? We're going to die anyways, this is it. There is no fucking future. I'm not so sure I want a future, if Treasure isn't in it.
I hear a scream, Ricky's scream. I jump up and run up the stairs faster than a lightening bolt. "Ricky!" I shout, running to the end of the hall, where I saw a shadow. I enter the hotel room and see Ricky staring at a woman. "Damn bitch, you scared the shit outta me." Ricky sighs. "I-I'm sorry, I just-" the woman barely mutters out. She was short, about 5'5. She had blonde hair, and blue eyes. Her skin was almost perfect, with the exception of a few cuts and bruises. She wore a tattered lime-green and black strapless dress. I stare at her. "Is there anyone else in the building, my lady?" Ricky asks, looking around the 3-bedded room. "N-not that I know of." She mutters out. "Well, I'm Ricky and that ole' boy is John." Ricky says, winking at me. I gave a fake ass half smile.
She gave a shy smile back, looking to the floor. I know I'm supposed to feel some sort of instant attraction towards her, like all the cliche books and movies, but actually, I don't. I mean, she's beautiful, but she's just not Treasure. "I'm Alison." she says, leaning against the dirty, destroyed wall. "Look, Alison, Johnny'boy and I have been through hell of a lot the past day or so, so, if ya don't mind, we're gonna crash." Ricky says, collapsing on his bed. The legs of the bed collapse and the whole thing falls to the floor. Ricky rolls over and looks at us with embarrasment, "Uh..." he manages to say. "Goodnight, Ricky." I say, giving a sly grin. I pull my matress off the bed springs, and onto the floor. From there, I pass out.
My eyes flicker open, and I sit up and stretch. Moonlight was shining in through the broken window. I'm guessing it was midnight. I stand to my feet and see Ricky, on his stomach and snoring...loudly. I smile, and look at Alison. She was curled up in the fetal position, mumbling in her sleep. I walk out of the room, and sit in the hallway. I hear footsteps, coming from the stairs. I stand slowly to my feet, and begin walking as if I were a turtle. The creeking of the stairs stung my ears like a million screaming banshees. I saw a shadow, reflecting in the moonlite. "Hello?" I say, staying still, not daring to get any closer. The figure makes his way up the stairs. A mixture of fear and rage courses through my vains. Michael. "John are you..." says a voice coming from behind me. "who is that?" Alison asks. "Alison, get out of here. Get Ricky, and run!" I spit out.
"B-but-" she begins to argue, but must've saw that I was serious by the look I gave her. She scurried back to the room quickly. "Let's fucking finish this, Michael. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" I scream as loudly as humanly possible. I charge at him like a raging bull. He grabs my sides as I was running and throws me over his head. I hit the stairs with a thud, and continued rolling down the stairs roughly. I moan in agony.
"What the fuck!" I hear Ricky shout. I wanted to scream, but had nothing left in me. Ricky punches Michael, sending him through the wall into the next room. Damn, this hotel really is shit. Ricky enters the room through the hole in the wall, and I no longer saw either one of them. I just heard struggling. There was a sudden, uncalming silence. Then, Ricky flies back through the room and hits the wall on the opposite side. A series of cracks start to appear in the wall, and that's when I realized, the building was going to collapse.
The building was shaking like a prostitute in a Catholic church, stray debris coming at us from every angle. I couldn't manage to move, only watch everything fall apart in horror. "Fuckin' shit, John, are ye' alright?" Ricky shouts, dodging debris. He runs towards me, along with Allison. A large chandlier crashes only a fraction away from my head, glass flying like migrating birds. I suddenly feel myself being picked up-Ricky. "Where's Alison?" I ask shakily. I look up and see Allison running towards us.
Just as she got within spitting distance of us, a hand emerges from dust in the air and grads her from behind. She struggles roughly, putting up a good fight. Ricky drops me, and I hit the floor hard. The moment I fell to the floor was the moment Allison died. Snap. Crack. the sounds of her neck breaking was almost as terrifying as the collapsing building. Ricky pauses, as her body falls to the floor. "Ricky, we need to go!" I shout in fear. Ricky stayed as still as a statue, staring Michael in the eyes.
Intesity swells inside of me, and my heart was heavy. The building shakes wildly. Ricky swiftly jumps out of the way of a falling piece of the ceiling. It crashes on top of Michael. "Ricky, let's get the fuck out of here!" I shout, beginning to crawl for the exit. He lifts me off the floor, and rushes towards the exit. My feet drag across the floor, as Ricky jumps through the exit. We land harshly on the dirt, rolling at least a few feet. We're both breating heavily, man, my heart was pounding.
"She didn't need to die." Ricky says, sitting up and covering his face. Damn, she died before we even got to know her. Talk about bad character development. I saw a tear fall off of Ricky's face. Ricky? Crying? Woah. It was a soft spot I had never really seen before, his gaurd was down, it was...wow. I sat up, wiping blood from my face. "Y'know," Ricky sobs, "when I was younger, my dad used to beat me. Toughen up, boy. Toughen up. My mom would always try to stop him. Stop, honey, stop! But, he'd beat her too. Over and over, until she could barely breath. One day, they had a really bad agrument, and it ended with him snapping her neck. Crack. It was terrifying. I was nothin' butta young'n, maybe six, seven." Ricky pauses.
I stare at him in shock. Complete and udder shock. Was he really opening up to me? This is the first time I've actually gotten to know Ricky, the real Ricky. "I ran. I shouldn't have, but I ran." He continued. "Ricky, you couldn't have done anything-you were a kid. Running was smart." I add in, trying to comfort him in his weakened state. "No, you don't understand...after I ran, I got lost. The police never found me, nobody never found me. I raised myself. Lived outside. Alone. In the cold." Ricky says, his accent taken over with depression. I scoot closer to Ricky, putting my arm on his shoulder.
"Ricky, you're probably the bravest, strongest person I've ever met. The life you lived was terrible, but it made you who you are today. The hardest thing in this world, is to live in it." I say, my voice slowly turning into more of a whisper by each word. Our faces get closer. My eyes shutter with pleasure, and tension. Our lips meet, our lips touch, our lips lock.
We kiss passionately, intently, and roughly. His tounge went so far down my throat it could have triggered my gag reflex. He lays on his back while I crawl on top of him, continuing kissing him. His hands run down my back, and find their way up my shirt. I grudingly pull his faded wife-beater off of him, as he pulls my shirt off as well. His warm skin presses against mine as our hands explore each other. The position switches, and he was on top, ripping off my pants. He quickly takes his off, our lips never being pulled apart.
I feel him slip inside me, deeply inside of me. I bite his lip, trying to handle the painful pleasure that I have experiancing. We got faster, and rougher. I grab his back abusingly, trying to contain my sounds of pleasure.
I woke up, with Ricky next to me, naked. I was naked too. We were covered in sand (the ground was made up of sand). Ricky sat up. I wanted to tell him something, but I couldn't manage to speak. It was quiet, except for a few of those fake and awkward 'throat clearers'. "I ain't no fuckin' faggot, ar'ight? What happened last night was..." He stopped. "Magic?" I finish for him, looking into his face. On the outside, he was angry, but inside, he was just...scared. "What?" He says, standing to his feet. "Look...I'm...I like females. I do, but, you can't deny that..." I mutter out. I really didn't know what I was talking about, and I am just as confused as he is. He shook his head and pulled up his pants. I put on my shirt, and the remains of my pants.
"I, uh, I'm going to find weapons, and look for food. All my shit was in the hotel." Ricky says, looking to the ground. I swallow heavily. "Alright." I manage to say, standing to my feet. Ricky turns around swiftly, and begins walking away. I was looking at my feet in shame, when I heard him scream. I look up to see Michael arms around Ricky's neck, and Ricky struggling intently. "Ricky!" I shout with fear. Michael had his infamous butcher knife in his hand, and his clothes were tattered badly. Ricky struggles, but Michael won't let go or drop the knife. "Michael, let him go!" says a vaguely familiar voice. Michael turns around with Ricky, and even though I couldn't see his eyes, I could tellhe was genuinly shocked. The man was bald at the top of his head, with hair on the sides, completing a half-circle the back of his head. He was wearing a long brown trench coat, that was buttoned, and some black pants, with black shoes.
"Michael, I know it's been awhile. Why don't you let him go, and finish what you started with me." the old man pleas. I finally remembered how I knew him...he helped my mother. He was Michael's doctor...and the man who's been following me. "Y-you, you've been following me!" I shout, forgetting about Ricky's situation. The man, who I know as Dr. Loomis, ignores me. "Michael, let the man go." he continues, pulling out a pistol, and pointing it at Michael. How is he alive? Michael releases Ricky. Before Ricky can even breathe, Michael jabs his knife into Ricky's back, blood spilling like a waterfall. Ricky falls to the ground. "RICKY!" I shout, tears spilling out of me. I fall to my knees. Dr. Loomis shoots wildly at Michael, the bullets seemingly not phasing him. Michael lifts Dr. Loomis up by his jaw, as Dr. Loomis struggles. I stood slowly to my feet. I could feel my face getting hot, it was red with anger.
Michael turns towards me, still kicking in his hands. Michael tosses Dr. Loomis to the side, and he hits the ground roughly. "Do you know how much fucking shit you've put me through, Michael? Do you know how much shit you've put everyone through? You're nothing but pain." I shout, my getting hotter. The lingering smell of Ricky's blood fires me up more. Michael clenches his fists. "NO!" Dr. Loomis shouts from the ground. I run at Michael, screaming wildly. My body hits his and we both fall to the ground. I crawl to Ricky. I close my eyes tightly, and pull the knife out of his back. I stand to my feet, and face Michael. He stands, looking me directly in the eyes. I lunge at him again, with the knife ready. It slips into his stomach like butter. As he stands there, eyes closing, I begin to take off his mask. As I lay my hand on his mask, he smacks me down to the floor. He pulls the knife out of his stomach, and stands over me...he was preparing to attack.
In the corner of my eye, I see Dr. Loomis pull something out of his coat. Michael lifts the knife up, I see a grin through his masked face. He was content. That fucking cunt was happy. Satisfied. It was disgusting. In what I thought to be my final moments, I looked over at Dr. Loomis. A smirk plastered on my face. I looked back up at Michael, "The End." Michael looks over at Dr. Loomis, who was holding the biggest fucking pistol I've ever seen. "Goodbye, Michael." he says, shooting him right between the eyes. Blood splatteres on my face. His body falls flat to the ground. He was dead. Michael Myers was dead. The biggest fucking grin spread across my face, it was over. I stare up at the beauty that is the sunset, and see Dr. Loomis walking toward it. His mission, was complete.