A New Kind of Curse

Chapter One

Hello everyone, this is a refurbished version of my original story, which was originally intended as a oneshot including an OC and Michael Myers. I decided to redesign it because Myers is so out of character in the original, along with some rather cheesy moments between Michael and OC, I have decided to redo the original and come up with this version. Some instances may seem a bit choppy, but that's mostly because I replaced some content with a more modest version. I'd also like to state that I actually have a second chapter almost finished. :-) Thanks for reading!

Amidst the haunted darkness of Lampkin Lane, a girl crunched along quietly in the dry grass and dirt. She was sneaking about in another day of being trapped in this nightmare. She couldn't remember how she got there; all she knew was that surviving these trials granted her a longer chance to rest in 'purgatory', as she called it, which was a dark and quiet place that didn't require her to always be on her toes.

And so, she spent every day of this life repairing generators, searching chests, and attempting to escape from various spine-chilling monsters and murderers.

The girl's eyes cast about quickly and she was surprised by a metal trap door buried in the dirt that was flipped open. Trails of inky black mist swirled out of it. As much as she wished to jump through it and escape, her senses warned her that she should take this chance, and look around for something useful to take with her.

Damn me for still having my brain, she cursed herself, as she turned away from the trap door and entered the backyard of a rotting green home. She looked around the yard for a chest, but the only thing there was a rusty, bloodied hook and a broken down tricycle.

The girl walked up the porch steps and entered the decrepit home. The sound of her own footsteps along the wooden floor raked at her ears, and she flinched; but nothing could be done of it, and she continued up the stairs.

When she reached the upstairs floor, her heart fell to her stomach as a rather eerie sound erupted from one of the bedrooms. She froze on the spot with her ears pricked.

It almost sounded like a faint snore.

Ideas flitted around the girl's mind as the sound occurred again, and it was without a doubt, a snore.

Curiosity overcame her. She had to at least see what was creating that noise before she left the trial. She took care to creep quietly along the floor to the room at her right, and cautiously peered around the doorframe to see what was inside.

Another quiet snore emanated from the room, and the girl's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a surprised gasp.

Laying down on the bed, knife in hand, was the infamous Michael Myers; her least favorite killer.

That's why there's no heartbeat, she thought to herself as she continued to peer at him nervously from the hallway.

She gazed at his sleeping body as his chest rose and fell. It seemed so unnatural, seeing the killer sleeping peacefully when at this point, she was normally trying her best to escape his relentless grasp. She was utterly astonished by the notion that this man even could sleep. She also couldn't understand why he'd decided to take a nap now; didn't he know that she was still there, waiting to be stabbed?

I guess it could be a trap...

That seemed rather outrageous though... why would Michael Myers need to use himself as a trap? The girl shook her head and took a breath. Curiosity was getting the best of her, and what did she have to lose? At this point, being stabbed a few times and getting thrown on a hook was just a normal day for her... she might as well try to see what's going on here.

It was impossible to completely mask the sound of her footsteps, so she began by removing her shoes and cautiously tip toeing into the bedroom, her socks masking any noise made by her feet. Every fiber of her being was begging her to turn around and run. It was unimaginably uncomfortable being in the same room as him, and she had to force herself to keep moving closer and closer. But she was also excited, because it felt good to be doing something out of the ordinary; something other than running for her life.

She eyed the knife wrapped gently beneath the stalker's sleepy fingers. It was coated with a fresh layer of her late teammates' blood, the sight of which caused her to shiver. Disturbed, she still crept closer to the bed. She could hear his breaths now, in sync with the movement of his chest. She studied his sleeping figure with a curious gaze, intrigued.

The man she'd been murdered by hundreds, if not thousands of times laid before her, completely vulnerable and unaware of her presence. The girl's wide eyes flitted across his masculine figure, and her heart fluttered innocently as she wondered what he looked like beneath that suit.

Without much thought, the girl leaned in dangerously close to the stalker's face, and held her breath as she peered into the eye holes of his mask.

Her skin was crawling.

But she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain...

The girl's fingers travelled silently to the zipper of the killer's boiler suit, tugging it down gently. It began to catch a few times at the neck of the suit, and she attempted to quietly wrestle it down. After a few attempts of jiggling it around as gently as possible, the zipper gave way with a quiet zrrrrrrrrrrrp.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes fell upon Myers' body, silhouetted beneath a surprisingly clean white T-shirt. She listened carefully to his breathing for a moment, as he let out a gentle snore every few moments. Her hands shook as she studied his body, wide-eyed, with her fingers still gripped lightly on the zipper of his suit.

The stalker's breath hitched on a rather noisy snore, and she jumped, startled. The killer didn't move or stir though, and she stayed in her spot.

Her eyes cast downward to his stomach, and the zipper that remained somewhere just beneath his belly button. A dark thought entered her mind as she looked at his sculpted form beneath the T-shirt, and glanced back up to the mask that she'd stared down in her own demise so many times. She feared this man more than many of the others. But she was unable to contain herself as a warmth began to spread within her own belly. She gazed silently, entranced as she continued to study his shape; the hard lines of his collar bones, and the way the skin of his neck disappeared under the fabric of his shirt.

She wanted to trace her fingers along the line of that point. Myers' breaths came in heavy waves, and her breaths were beginning to match his.

The girl was overcome with desire as she continued to study his sleeping figure. In this state he seemed so calm, and so peaceful… almost human. She was formulating an idea of the best way to touch him, when she began to second guess herself.

Besides the fear of being suddenly stabbed and murdered, the opportunity seemed too good to pass up. What did she really have to lose?

Even still, she was very excited with a strange mixture of fear and excitement, and the desire to feel something so exciting. She tugged on his zipper, revealing a pair of dark colored boxers. She scoffed at the sight of his underwear, as if they were on the same level now that she'd seen them. She looked up to his face nervously, relieved when a quiet snore escaped his throat.

The girl looked back down at him and stared, mesmerized at the silhouette of Michael's body; something she never imagined seeing. He appeared so calm, and peaceful now.

She couldn't help herself. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself for the best or the worst. Her hand raised and hovered for a moment just above the sleeping killer, before reaching out with one of her fingers and tracing it across his stomach. The T-shirt caught beneath her fingers slightly as she trailed it in a straight line that went right over his belly button. Adrenaline was pumping through her and she grinned to herself, while also staring at him like a baby who'd just seen Christmas lights for the first time.

Beneath her fingers was a warm, hardened body that caused her heart to somersault, and all logic flew out the window. She drew in a deep breath as a gleam of light reflected off Myers' knife as she moved and was reminded of how many times her bloody body was carried off, to be gruesomely thrown on a hook by this same man, and she decided not to worry after that. Once again she became self conscious and imagined what would happen if Myers woke up right now, and shuddered to herself.

She would be in for one hell of a trial.

The girl moved closer, slowly inching her hand once again toward Michael Myers' body. She could not believe that she was doing this. She was so incredibly turned on by the sight of his toned body, and she wanted to continue groping at his masculine form so badly that she had to remind herself to listen to his breathing.

Finally her fingertips brushed across the fabric of his underwear, and she laid her hand lightly on top of him. She breathed out gently, glancing up to his face; her body was trembling.

She squeezed Michael Myers softly, enjoying the way it felt.

How is he not waking up? She thought to herself, eyeing the stalker suspiciously.

Her fingers snaked through the opening in his boiler suit and she gasped as her fingertips brushed against the actual skin of Myers' body. An odd shock was sent throughout her body at her first touch of his skin. She shivered slightly in an attempt to shake off the eerie sensation, entranced by the fact that she was successfully placing her fingertips atop the body of a monstrous serial killer. Now she used both hands, worming them up beneath his shirt, and resting them lightly on his abdomen. She took a few more moments to enjoy the warmth passing beneath her fingertips, relishing every bump and muscle. His skin was surprisingly soft and smooth. Not to mention it was as if he'd spent these months doing workouts daily at the gym. She was absolutely entranced.

The girl's pleasure was short lived as her senses came flooding back to her, no longer clouded by an infatuous desire. She was beginning to regret herself as she realized that this may just be the most senseless thing she'd ever done in her life, including the first one.

Without a second thought she turned her back to the stalker and bent over to put her shoes back on.

A sly grin began to spread across her face as she thought about the fact that she'd just fondled Michael Myers while he was sleeping, and did not wake him up.

The grin was quickly wiped from her face as a large hand suddenly clamped over her shoulder, yanking her around and facing her with the now awakened, hard-bodied Michael Myers, who's suit had been zipped back up halfway. His hand was still clenched around her shoulder as she stared up at him, wide-eyed and petrified. Once again, she was face-to-face with her most dreaded killer.

She attempted to struggle away from his grasp, turning away from his ghostly face and flailing like a fish out of water. No luck. The killer's grasp was strong against her small wrist. He wasn't letting her go.

She cried out in frustration when he whipped her back around to face him once again. Anger bubbled up inside her eyes as she began to realize her defeat; she thought she'd outdone the killer.

It was as if he could sense that she was giving up. The feeling that she experienced was ten times worse than the usual feeling of being a deer in the headlights; this felt like he now actually had a reason to kill her.

The girl screamed aloud in terror as Michael Myers slammed her body up against the wall. She stared into the dark holes of his mask and her skin crawled as she caught a fast glimpse of his murderous eyes, and what she interpreted as a gleam of excitement that was within them. She began to realize he wasn't angry with her; he was toying with her.

The girl's hands instinctively flew up to Myers' that was gripped loosely around her throat. "I-I'm sorry!" She blurted out, unsure if he could even hear her words. "I wasn't trying to take advantage of you-"

Her sentence stopped short as Michael's arm slowly raised, ominously pointing the tip of his bloody kitchen knife to her throat. She shrieked and attempted to wriggle free, but Michael's grip was tight. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, but she could feel the stalker's gaze studying her every move. She was not completely sure of this air that was felt between them; she could not tell if he was planning to devour her, or if he was just playing with her before he placed her on the dreaded hook.

Oh well, she thought to herself dryly. At least I got what I wanted…

Her mind was shutting down, her consciousness evacuating into some dark corner that she'd developed over time, when the physical pain was overwhelming or when the fear was too much to handle. It was almost like an out of body experience, where instead of feeling the pain first hand, she sat beside herself and watched herself experience it. Over time this tactic saved her from breaking down into insanity and allowing her to keep hold of her human nature many times.

She was beginning to recede into this state of mind, when, almost as if he could sense that she was drifting off, she was startled by the sound of her own jacket being sliced in half by Myers' kitchen knife. She screamed and looked down at her tattered clothing that now hung open from the sides. Her eyes widened in horror as she stared down at her exposed shirt, attempting to quickly take in the sight so she knew exactly what the killer might be thinking. His hand was still clenched at her neck and shoulder, holding her still in front of him.

Once again, her head bent backward to look up into his ghostly mask. A hollow pit formed in her stomach as something told her that he was gazing back down at her, studying her; it felt as if he was seeing right into her soul.

Her hands grasped at Myers' wrist that held her fast against the wall. "Please, just kill me. Just kill me," she begged desperately.

A tear pricked her eyes as she realized he wasn't going to let her go that easily. He stood for a moment, and she imagined what his expression must be like under the mask. Would he wear a gruesome frown, or a deranged grin in a moment like this?

She couldn't imagine which before the killer's arm snaked around her waist, hoisting her up and pulling her toward the door. Myers' movements were as smooth as a snake as he carried her out of the doorway, even as she writhed and clawed at anything she could get her hands on, holding on for a few moments before being effortlessly tugged away.

She was unsure of where he was taking her as he stomped down the stairs. She prayed that he was headed for the door, and let out a grunt of anguish when he reached the bottom floor and turned away from it, heading instead for the kitchen.

As Myers brought the girl closer to the doorway, and idea struck her. She knew it wasn't the best idea, and she knew it wasn't going to stop him for long. At the last second before they passed through, the girl's legs flew up at either side of the door and she braced herself against his chest. Her head snapped forward and she was almost crunched into a ball by the sheer force of him walking, but she pushed back against him. The killer simply paused before taking a moment to assess the situation, then grabbing both of her legs around the front and drawing them tightly in. His other arm was wrapped underneath her armpits, crossing over her breasts. He turned sideways and walked her through the door.

She felt like a child who'd been throwing a fierce tantrum being forced into compliance by an angry parent. He handled her as if she were light as a feather.

Once they were in the threshold of the kitchen, Myers dropped the girl to her feet. She stumbled forward and glanced around the room while instinctively turning around to face the stalker behind her. She saw no escape save the door he brought her through, which he blocked with his body.

The girl stared angrily into the man's mask. She was hunched forward and clutching her elbow. He stood there, staring back at her. She felt like she could nearly sense his feelings at this point, although she would never know if her presumptions were true-but she could swear that he was grinning at her deviantly beneath the dirty latex mask.

It only angered her more. Without much thought, but with a last glimmer of hope, she dashed forward, faking to the left and leaping to the right. She thought she might be quicker than him, but in this case, she was outmatched. Myers caught on to her trick without even flinching, and he turned to catch her with ease.

The girl cried out furiously as the killer moved her farther back into the room. Her arms flailed as she was hooked around the waist by his strong forearm. He tossed the girl forward, causing her to stumble into the countertop with her back to him. She had no time to recuperate as Myers' hard body was almost immediately pressed up against hers. The countertop began biting into her hip bones.

Michael Myers was folded over her like a big spoon cupping a smaller one. The young girl shivered, goosebumps forming along her body as she could hear and feel the killers' breaths mere inches away from her ear. She jumped, startled as she felt Myers' fingers caressing the left side of her cheek with his right hand, which trailed along her jawline before falling to trace the skin of her neck. She cried softly in fear.

Myers' hand suddenly dropped, tracing across her chest and roughly grasping her hip, pulling her body closer to his.

The girl became even more fearful as she began to notice that warm feeling was beginning to return. With the way his body pressed against hers, holding her fast against the countertop, she felt like a mouse caught in a cat trap.

Her breaths were becoming heavy again, and she was nearly panting amongst a flurry of confusing feelings as his hands travelled over her body. Her heart beat fast and loud in her chest as her mind was overcome with desire. Her head was becoming cloudy as she sighed and her muscles began to release. Waves of warm infatuation were washing over her, and without her consent, she began to develop overwhelming feelings for this ruthless killer…

Until she finally began to question her state of mind.

Is this what I really want?

Should I try to run one more time?

She glanced to the left and right, searching in jest for some way to get out of this situation; but Myers was watching, and held her tightly in place.

In an attempt to deny her own taboo feelings, the girl sighed in defeat, releasing herself and giving up again. She wasn't sure if it was her mind attempting to accept the situation and see it for the best, but she felt that in some terrible way, maybe she was enjoying this. She hadn't had any interesting or exciting encounter with a man since she was alive.

She was becoming entranced with him, falling farther and farther into a pit of burning obsession as he pressed himself even harder against the countertop. The killer's aura alone was permeating her body, clouding her judgement.

The Entity had warned before that this could happen with humans, if you spent too much time around them. But the Entity never imagined that a killer may actually do it on purpose.

Myers wouldn't normally do this. He had never been interested at all with any humans before, even in his earthly life. But something had changed within him as he'd watched and felt this crazy girl groping his "sleeping" body.

The girl was squeezed much too lightly against the sharp edge of the countertop. It bit into her skin until she cried out in pain, which only made matters worse, as Myers shifted his hips against her even she cried out for another time, her hands bracing against herself in a desperate but futile attempt to push her body back, Myers relented as if he'd had enough. He whipped her around to face him once again.

She stared up at the masked man in fear, a million thoughts crossing her mind.

What now?

Is this the part where he slices me to pieces?

Will he take me to the basement, find some chains and tie me up?

Or will he just sacrifice me to the Entity?

Myers grabbed his well worn kitchen knife from the counter nearby, studying it ominously for a moment before turning back to the girl. She jumped under his returning gaze, staring at him with a sense of nervous betrayal.

The stalker grabbed her face roughly, pulling her close to him and tilting her head to the side. She cried out softly in terror, her wide eyes glancing around as Myers brought his knife to the point of her neck just below her ear.

The girl cried out in pain as the killer's knife pressed into her skin, slicing it open. Tendrils of warm blood cascaded beautifully down her smooth neck. When she pulled away instinctively, Myers yanked her back into place, holding her still by pressing her body into the counter with his. When he was done, he pulled back to view his work.

M.M., written in deep slices planted carefully into the girl's skin.

Tears streamed down her terrified face as she straightened up and cried in front of him. She shook softly as he looked down at her with some aura unintelligible. Then, his fingers roughly grasped her chin and turned her face up to look at him.

She stared up into his eyes and heard a voice emanate from inside her head. It was solid and deep, causing that passionate warmth to erupt within her once again. A shiver went through her spine.

Mine.

The girl's fingers travelled up to the stinging pain on her neck. The cuts were deep enough that the mark would be there forever, if the Entity didn't erase it when she left the trial.

She stared up at him with an uncertain gaze before he bent and deftly threw her over his shoulder. The girl did not wiggle or struggle as Michael Myers walked her outside of the house; she laid across his shoulder limply, almost comfortably, her mind cloudy and tired.

Somehow, she felt safe in the place she was in now, tucked between the crook of Myers' neck and shoulder. The warmth of his exposed skin brushed across hers, sending another shiver throughout her body. She breathed in deeply, her fingers brushing across the texture of the killer's boiler suit, some type of sadness overcoming her as she realized she wasn't sure if she would even remember this after she died.

Once the murderer found his way to the hook in the backyard of the rotted green home, he placed the girl on her feet in front of it. He looked down into her face, and watched the tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

He stared down at her silently. He knew what she was thinking. But, he had no condolences to offer. He was bound by a contract of blood to continue making sacrifices to the Entity... Otherwise, there would be no seeing her ever again.

Unable to look at her a moment longer, Myers' hands went to the girl's armpits, and his body was spattered with her blood as he tossed her on the hook.

The girl wailed in excruciating pain, before gritting her teeth and turning her eyes to the murderer before her.

Her hands flew to the hook that pierced her shoulder. She struggled to garble out a sentence through the excruciating pain.

"I'll-see you again," she said, before the Entity's disgusting black arms appeared in the air above her, desecrating her body and dragging her upward into the black sky.

Myers watched as she disappeared.

He may have hoped that she was right.