"Those eyes lure you in... he'll catch you, careful."

12:45, fucking Hell, it was so late and all you could hear is the monotone ticking of the clock; tick tick tick...You were rigid in bed, cold sweat plastered your pale skin, the air around you thick with humidity. You drew the marred sheets closer to your chest, closing your eyes and becoming elapsed in the second world:

-nightmare-

"Where you goin', schoolgirl?" The man's voice purred into your ears as the strong scent of liquor made you hold back gags, he snatched your arm and dug his black nails into your taut flesh. "Get the fuck off of me, rat!" You snapped, attempting to break free from his vicelike hold, "I like it when they squirm, come here babe."

He threw you onto the pavement, shadows enveloping his face, only the sadist grin of his could be visible... that of rape, defiling and malice. You scream for help, only to get a sour slap across the face and incoherent assaulting language; he violated your spots and womanhood, all you could do was endure it...

-end of nightmare-

You jolt up, 05:04, bags had weighed your once ecstatic eyes down and now faded to a dull hazel. Rolling onto your side, you stare at the milky, pre-dawn light gushing out the showy cream curtains; "Another day, just endure one last day and that's it."

Pushing the covers off, you felt the icy air nip at your skin, "The electricity bills are too much, I'm in debt, I can't fuckin' pay!" You mentally slap yourself, slipping your feet into the tattered and torn fluffy slippers, the white now curdled with grey. Edging your way down the stairs, you are welcomed by Midge, your only companion... Midge being a cat, there wasn't much to complain about; water, feed and let it sleep.

The smokey-coloured Persian rubbed against your legs, mewling and miaowing, "Midgeeee, I'll let you have some sausage soon, I need to go to the shop." You yawn, rubbing your tired eyes and entering the laundry room, Midge trailing behind in hungry desperation.

"What to wear, what to wear - aha!" You pryed a simple, casual knitted sweater from the piles of washing and some baggy denim bottoms, "It'll have to do!"

You raced upstairs, slamming the door behind you, undressing from your nightwear and putting lingerie on and the outfit you chose; the heavy pitter and patter of droplets made you internally sigh, raaaaain. Why rain?

Dashing down the flight of stairs, you picked up your worn out satchel and slung it over your shoulder, also getting the housekeys, saying goodbye to Midge.

The wind was harsh and merciless, whipping your black hair in a countless matter of directions; a prolonged shiver ran down the bridge of your spine, causing your hairs to prick up.

"Oi, baby giiirl!" A raspy voice cooed, followed by several more catcatcallers, you glance about, unable to identify the people who hollered. "Over here, girl!" They all slurred at you, but, still, no one was around. It's just my mind playing petty games on me, it's just a ga- You were halted mid-sentence by a hustler-lookin guy grabbing your shoulder, knocking you against the wall, Lookie here boys, we got a cute one!" He laughed as you squirmed, "Get the fuck off of me!" You kicked him in that God forsaken place and watched him convulse and roll over.

Without a second to spare, you dashed off, tears pricking and threatening the corner of your eyes, as if God had blessed you, an abandoned house was revealed down yonder. Your lungs begged for release, muscles now burning was adrenaline ceased, your entire body screamed for you to stop and you did, once you reached the door of the house... well, it looked abandoned, but manners were still necessary.

You knocked the door once or twice, to no avail, not a soul answered or stirred, "Uhh, hello?" You tried again, fiddling with the copper doorknob, which... opened? You weren't a girl who'd go snooping in other people's houses, but this was an emergency, you was assaulted. "Is anybody home, it's an emergency!" The house was definitely not looked after, dust layered the shelves and windowsills, furniture shredded and feathers pouring our the cushions.

You loomed in the hallway, connecting the lounge with the kitchen, there was a lingering scent of irony blood, but what disturbed you the most... the place no longer felt empty. As if someone was here, the place had a fullness to it, unsure, you timidly called out, "Please, I've just been assaulted!" You felt tears begin to form, the blurring prevented you from seeing a moving shadow just before you. A shape.

It slid beside you, eyeing your every futile movement, no matter what state you were in, you intruded on his territory.

You nervously sulked about, wiping tears that strayed from your eyes, oblivious to the danger encroaching. The pair of eyes behind the shape, whom was covered in an expressionless white Halloween, went from intentful, to curious and docile as he watched you gently remaster the books that were strewn across the floor. He took a few minutes taking your body in, curvaceous, yet remarkably vivacious... a paradox. Black hair damped and naturally curled from the rain, your eyes were holding a sadness, but an elegant hazel. Your skin was extremely pale and untouched, your cheeks had the patch of freckles.

The figure entered a small, opaque source of light; he was clad in a defiled, ruined mechanic suit and had a detriment slung sinisterly at his side, its chrome surface splattered with dried blood. He held it meaningfully at his side, only one hindrance halted him from killing her... the innocence that caked her. The hurt look in her eyes and the word she blurted out, assaulted. I mean, he'd done worse things, but just how childlike she acted, it made him feel so wrong and misplaced.

You picked a book up, brushing the dust away and propping it gently on the shelf, along with a few others. Your eyes averted towards the picture of a normal looking family, unlike yours, there, in the middle, sat a familiar looking child... "Michael Myers." You whispered, looking to the photo, "Poor kid, he didn't even know." You empathised with him, because you understood what anger could do, given or brought on.

The creak of a floorboard gave you electrifying tingles to surge down your neck and back, "Hello?" You called out needily.

No response.

A sadistic curve played under the mask of the prowling man, she's so sublime, so off-guard... He advanced upon her, knife ready and raised. The figure grabbed your neck, shoving you against the wall, the look of unadulterated horror was murderously invigorating to him. He poised it, right next to your stomach and edged it closer in case made any move to attack or escape.

"Don't hurt me!" You didn't know who it was as you didn't look at it, but when you did, the horror increased and your breathing, once steadied, became relentless and panicky.

"Don't kill me Michael, I don't want to die!" Your eyes had a flicker of hope to them as Michael loosened his grip around your waist, but hesitancy was evident. He studied you, knife still fatally close to your tense stomach, "I won't go, just put me down, please?" You give an assuring smile, his eyes, as if somehow bipolar with emotions, turned from malice to yet again curious. He allowed you to slump down on the ground, watching each movement of yours with honed skill.

"I'm sorry I intruded... I-I was attacked." You bite back a wave of emotions and tears, his eyes bored into your own, but he wasn't trying to intimidate you, it was as though he was looking into a book written in a different lingual; you were unreadable now, all sorts of distorted things going on in your unhinged mind.

Author Chan is cutting this one short!Michael: *puppy dog eyes* next chapter?Me: yis yis yis =