My eyes fluttered open, but my vision was just a blur of colors. I closed them again at the constant throb of pain in my head. After a moment, the pain ceased slightly and I opened them another time. Man, I must have had that dream again. I sat up and looked around, and my eyes widened and all tiredness left me at what I saw.
I was not in my room, but a room that I did not recognize. I was lying on a very wide, red chaise lounge chair and the only source of light was the lamp on a small table next to me. Next to the table was a beige leather chair facing the chaise, and behind this little set-up was a rather large desk. The wall behind it was made up of book shelves filled with various thick volumes. The only window in the office was made of blocked glass high up on the wall, telling me that I was below ground. I felt the pressure in my chest and my breathing became heavy as a million thoughts hit me at once.
It wasn't a dream…Michael came back to kill me…why aren't I dead? I felt my head and winced in pain at a tender spot, and realized that he must have knocked me out. Why didn't he just kill me? I sickening thought made my stomach plunge. The police came at the last moment… Maybe he wanted to make my death last a little longer. He wasn't known for particularly torturing people, but he could start for all I knew. It appeared that he wasn't in the room, so I decided to explore.
I walked to the window, but only darkness showed through the thick glass, not giving me any whereabouts of where I was. I turned around and suddenly realized there was a metal door across the room. Why would Michael just leave me here? Is it possible that he changed his mind? I walked to the door, taking ahold of the knob. Excitement quickly filled me as it turned, but the emotion left just as quick when I pushed on the door and it didn't budge. Something heavy must have been pressed up against the other side of it. Dammit! Of course he didn't change his mind. I was stuck, left in a room with a door that wouldn't open and a window that would be impossible to break.
I walked to the desk to see if I could find anything about where I was. There were many files and papers left out in a mess, and a picture of two smiling blond children was placed in the corner. I rummaged through the drawers, but only found useless office supplies. I didn't bother picking up the phone, have already seen that the chord was ripped. I groaned in frustration before my eyes landed on a framed degree hanging on the wall. It was awarded to a Dr. Cecilia Barone. I recognized the name of the school psychologist. I'm still on campus. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Michael had not taken me far. But the truth was, if I wanted to be honest with myself, it didn't matter where he took me. He is coming back, and then he is going to kill you.
I sighed as I walked back to the chaise, where I would wait for his eventual return and my doom. I laid my head back on the pillow and to rest, listening to what would be my final heartbeats. Tears filled my eyes and I could not hold back heavy sobs. I don't want to die. If only I had listened to my instincts and gone home. However, I knew it didn't matter if I had left campus. He would find me wherever I was.
I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to calm my tears. There is no point in crying over the inevitable. I would just have to deal with the reality. I took another deep breath, and let the thoughts leave my mind. If I kept thinking, it would make my death even harder to bear. I felt myself go numb, and I was soon falling back into an uneasy slumber.
The noise of what sounded like a heavy object being dragged across the floor woke me up from my hazy state. I quickly sat up, making my head rush. At least it wasn't still pounding, unlike my heart. Michael's back. It was still dark outside the window, so I must not have been asleep for long. As I heard the door knob turn, I had to keep myself from screaming. Remain calm! Don't give him the pleasure of seeing the fear in your eyes.
The door opened menacingly slow, and I could see the dark form of Michael as the light from the lamp reflected upon him. My heart began to beat even faster and I would have been surprised if he couldn't hear it himself. Get ahold of yourself. You knew this was coming. I took some deep breathes to help control my pulse as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He then turned around and stopped, staring at me, knife in hand. A few moments passed, building the tension until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Hello, Michael," I said, breaking the silence. "Well, you have me where you want me. I told you I wouldn't fight you." With that said, I stood up next to the chaise, making myself an easy target. He still didn't move, but just stared at me from the black holes of his mask. I couldn't tell what he was deciding. I started to become irritated, and glared right back at him, feeling my anger redden my cheeks. "What are you waiting for? Just get it over with!"
That seemed to spark something in him, and he started taking deliberately slow steps towards me. As I watched him come closer, my pulse went haywire despite all of my attempted deep breaths. He stopped right in front of me, and I closed my eyes, not wanting him to see the fear that I was so desperately trying to hide. This is it…I thought while clenching my fists, preparing myself for the pain.
Instead of feeling the cold burn of the blade, I felt him tug at my necklace, pulling it off of me. I heard it hit the floor, along with the sound of a heavier object. I kept my eyes closed. I quickly realized what he was planning as cold, rough fingers grabbed around my neck. To me, strangulation was preferable to the knife. I felt him apply slight pressure, before moving his hands across my collarbone, leaving goose bumps on my skin. I became very confused, and could not keep my eyes closed any longer. Why wasn't he killing me?
I looked at him, waiting for his fingers to become menacing, but they never did. They softly trailed over my bare skin, as if mesmerized with the feeling. His fingers started to roam lower, and my stomach lurched when I realized the implication of his actions. Wait…this cannot be happening. I'm sure he could see the look of shock on my face. My breathing became heavier as my nerves rose, and any doubt I had before was gone when his fingers hovered over my breasts, sending a chill down my spine. No fuckin' way…I can't let him do this! I fought with myself, wanting to choose between my morals and my life. I gasped when his hands grabbed my chest more firmly, and I closed my eyes, not sure what to do with myself. I said I wouldn't fight him…I can't show him the fear now. I knew that I would give up what he was asking for, which was technically my virginity, to spare my life, but I also knew there was no guarantee he wouldn't take both.
He started to rub gently over my nipples as he felt them harden underneath my shirt, and I let out another soft groan. Dammit! I cannot actually be enjoying this! You should be cringing at this killer's touch! But on the contrary, his touches felt…nice? I slightly leaned into his touch, letting my body make this decision. If this was going to happen, and considering that it was Michael Myers standing in front of me, it was going to happen, so I might as well try to enjoy it. If I was going to die, I did not want my one and only sexual experience to…well…be unfulfilling.
His hands left my breasts, roaming down my sides and exploring my stomach. My body became like putty in his hands. I was close enough to see his real eyes, and they were dark and smoldering, not with anger, but with hunger. I allowed my mind to ease up after one thought: He is touching you in the way you've always wanted to be touched…and wanting you, like you've wanted. This was something no other man had ever given me, and I was dumbfounded at the fact that Michael Myers, of all people, was the one to do so.
I shuddered as his cold fingers slowly went under my camisole, trailing over my stomach. Unexpectedly, in one swift movement, he had ripped off the shirt over my head, throwing it on the floor. I stood there breathless, and instinctively covered myself from the cool air. By the look he gave me, I knew he wasn't having that. He quickly grabbed my arms and put them back at my sides, and when he could see I wasn't going to fight back, he let go of his almost painful grasp and resumed his exploration of my skin. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations of his large hands, when all of a sudden I felt a tug on my black lace bra. He didn't know how to get it off. Is he new at this too? For some reason, that thought made me smile…that is, until he bent down and picked the knife up off the floor.
Before I could even blink, my bra was cut open and slowly fell down my back. My face blushed when I saw his eyes widen, and he paused before cupping my breasts in his hands, exploring their every fold and crevice. I let out a sigh of pleasure, and before I realized what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed one of his forearms, sliding down it until my hand was over his. His body stilled at my touch. I looked into his eyes, wanting him to know that I was responding, and would not fight him. After a moment of staring at each other, he continued his movements and I gave another sigh.
Before I knew it, he had spun me around facing away from him. The motion was so fast that I would have fell on the floor if it had not been for his strong hold on my arms. My head spun as his fingers started to explore my shoulders and back. He ran a thumb gently over the cut he had given me down the back of my arm, and I winced a little at the pain. This must have excited him, because his hands started to be less hesitant over my body and I gave a soft moan. He pulled me close to his body, and started to rub my chest from behind. I could feel the muscles under the mechanics suit and realized he was built with the strength of a brick wall. Yep, I couldn't get away even if I tried. I blushed as this thought excited me, and mentally slapped myself.
I leaned further into him as his hands roamed lower down my stomach and paused as he reached the top of my jeans. I instinctively grabbed his hand, trying to prevent him from going any further, but it was to no avail. He slid his hand farther, and I clenched as he started to explore the folds between my thighs. He was the only thing holding me up, and I moaned as his explorations became more demanding. I grabbed onto his arms, digging my nails into his suit.
He leaned further down to go farther, and that is when I felt his hardness on my back. My stomach jolted in what was a mixture of nervousness and excitement at the idea of what was going to happen to me. I can't believe I want this. He pulled his hand back up just when I thought I was about to burst from the thrills he had been sending to my body. He spun me back around facing him, where I could see the even greater hunger in his eyes and the strain against his suit between his legs. I felt my face become red and I tried to avert my eyes.
Suddenly, he had picked me up and tossed me on the red lounge. I gasped as I landed with a bounce. I propped myself up and watched as he bent down and picked up my leg and slid off my boot, throwing it across the room. He did the same to the other. Then, in one swift grasp, he had my jeans in his hands and tore them down, throwing them by the boots. I gasped, partly from the cool air touching my legs, partly from the thrill of his passionate actions. He pulled at my lacy underwear, which came off much easier, and sent them the way of the rest of the clothes. He then stood up, staring down at me. I couldn't keep from blushing, never having been so naked in front of anyone.
Butterflies filled my stomach as he came towards me, picked me up again, and dropped me down the length of the chaise. My head hit the soft pillow. He then kneeled down on the floor and took off his boots. They landed next to mine. He stood back up, and I realized that from this angle, he looked as tall as he did when I was a child. Don't think about that memory now. That Michael will shortly be paying you a visit after this.
My stomach rolled in even greater nerves as he slowly lifted his hand up to his zipper under his neck and pulled down, revealing pale hard muscles underneath. From the skin that I could see, there were faint scars, which I assumed were created from bullet and knife wounds. His zipper continued as low as it could go, revealing a shocking sight.
He…is…huge…How the hell is this going to work? I averted my eyes once again, not wanting to stare awkwardly at him. My worry rose as he approached me, and I began to wonder if I should say something. I wanted to tell him that this wasn't going to work, that I've never done this before, and that he was just way too big. But, I decided against speaking, unable to fight my own urges and not wanting to possibly anger him by stopping him from reaching his goal.
He lowered himself over me, and I had to stop my hand from moving to stop him. He kept my gaze as I felt him lift my legs and wrap them over his. I jolt of anticipation hit me as I felt his large member touch my thighs. Fuck…how can I possibly want this so bad? He started exploring my torso once again, leaving burning sensations wherever he touched. I let out a soft moan as he touched my sensitive breasts with one hand and let the other travel down my side.
A sudden urge came over me, and I slowly lifted up my hand, hovering my fingertips over his pale skin. I looked into his eyes, waiting for him to stop me. When he didn't, I gently placed my hand on his open chest, and slowly started moving down, loving the feeling of his cool, smooth skin. His muscles felt hard beneath me, and I let my hand travel up and down his torso. I could feel his breathing becoming heavier underneath my palm.
I stopped moving my hands as one of his came up and started caressing my face. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations of his cold fingers traveling over my temples and down my cheeks. My lips slightly opened at the soft touch of his thumb on my mouth. His fingers then traveled down, gently moving across my neck and collarbone. I can't believe the one person who has terrified me my entire life, can also give me so much…pleasure. I opened my eyes to look into his, and then I knew I couldn't wait any longer.
I removed my hands from his chest and slightly sat up, reaching to pull on the back of his leg. I wanted him to know that I needed him…now. He got the hint, and I fell back on the pillow as he pulled my legs towards him. He leaned over me, and my breath caught when I felt the head of his member touch my tingling opening. I tensed, preparing for the pain that would inevitably come. Oh geez, please be gentle…
I felt his hips move forward, and my arms went under his and up around his back, grabbing his shoulders. He entered me slowly, but it did not stop me from crying out in pain. I squeezed my body to his, digging my nails into his back. He didn't move as my body trembled beneath him and tears streamed down my face. Holy shit…that was worse than I thought it would be.
After a moment, the throbbing slightly subsided and I loosed my grip on him. I lowered my head back down and held on to the back of his arms, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric. He touched my wet cheek and looked at the moisture on his fingers, as if he didn't understand it. I slowly took his hand and placed it back next to my head, letting him know to continue. I put my hand back on his arm as he slowly pulled out. As he thrust forward, I squeezed my fingers around him and shut my eyes, cringing at the level of pain. He stopped for another second until I loosened my grasp, and then started a slow but steady pace.
My body shook as the constant pain coursed through me, and I kept a strong hold on to him. After a few minutes, the pain started to lessen and was replaced by a growing warmth. I started to move myself, rocking against his gentle thrusts. The uncomfortable tightness I felt before started to give away to pleasure, and I let the tension release from my body. This is better…much better. I allowed my hands to travel over his body, feeling the strength in his arms, back, and stomach. He slightly picked up speed, and I placed my hands under his suit on his back, feeling the cool ripple of his muscles.
I let my breath raise my chest against his and placed my head against his shoulder, muffling my moans. He maintained the faster pace, and I held on as tingling sensations swam through my body. I felt the pleasure slowly building, and I wanted it to come, faster. He must have sensed what I wanted, because he suddenly stopped and grabbed my arms, pinning them above my head. I felt a jolt of surprise in my stomach and wrapped my legs around his lower back.
His grasp around my wrists was almost painful as he began to enter me. He started off with his slow pace, but soon began to build it. He got faster and faster, and I thought I was going to lose my mind. I screamed in pleasure as he started to pound hard into me, and thought I would die in euphoria. Despite his cool body, I felt the warmth in my stomach and between my legs while the pressure built around him. Much too soon, I felt the tension release and contract around him, and I smiled at the feeling. I could feel the tension come over his body, and after giving two final thrusts, he let go of my wrists and relaxed on top of me. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through his fake hair and down his back. The only sounds filling the room were our heavy breathing and our heart beats.
He slowly lifted himself off of me and I rolled to the side facing the room, feeling drowsiness take over my mind. I felt rough hands move up and down my side as I drifted off. I allowed myself to whisper one word, "Michael…," before succumbing to a peaceful sleep.