Author here! Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows! From now on, I'll be marking this story as M, for future sex (yes, with Michael!) gore and other icky bits. Thankyou thankyou! And remember to review!
"My names Michael." The boy held his hand out to the little girl crying against the lockers. She wiped her eyes and stood up, stomping her feet.
"Why can't you boys leave me alone?!" She yelled. Michael didn't answer her right away. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper, unfolding it. It held an intricate drawing of a sugar skull with two candles drawn on either side.
"You dropped this during lunch." He smiled at her. "You're Nadia right? That's a cool skull." Nadia took the drawing from him and looked at it, her expression holding bewilderment.
"I-it's a sugar skull." She looked at him. "You're not going to call me names? Or kick me?" He smiled and shook his head.
"No, you seem pretty cool. Could you draw me a skull?" His hair was just as messy and long then, but his face was lighter.
"Sure." Nadia perked up, rubbing her eyes.
That was two years before everything went to hell. Nadia could feel the memories flowing through her mind, holding her in the ever present darkness she was stuck in.
She had come to for a few moments once, the cold biting at her exposed skin. Her body bounced here and there as she was carried. Her thoughts hadn't been nearly coherent enough, and she curled her body closer to the large source of warmth.
Nadia allowed the darkness to take her this time, too weak to fight it off. Her dreams centered on old memories, trying to keep the young woman sane.
Sometimes though, Nadia would wander into dark thoughts. Screaming parents, pain on her back from a belt. It was in this, her body physically reacted to these nightmares. She cried out and thrashed, clawing.
It surprised Michael, so much that he stopped on the side of the road and stared down at her. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground, watching her with interest. It was a dark enjoyment, as she writhed from these invisible demons. She spoke, but it was incoherent rabble to him. He simply watched, as her body contorted and her nails scratched at the pavement, fighting something invisible. Fighting something that wasn't him.
It took a few minutes, but the cries and kicks faded off. Michael scooped her back up with no effort, and continued walking.
"I wish I was pretty." Nadia colored in the picture in her book."Like you. Blonde hair, and blue eyes."
"What're you talking about?" Michael grabbed the coloring book away from her, causing a long streak of red marker across the page. "You are pretty." Nadia tried to take back the book, but Michael held it hostage.
"Am not." Nadia whined. She tried to steal the book back, but he held it out of reach.
"Your hair. It's black, and black is my favorite color." Nadia pouted. "Your eyes are brown, like chocolate. Who doesn't like chocolate?"
"You." Nadia responded. Michael just smiled bigger.
"And you have a big mouth." She stuck her tongue out at him.
The first thing Nadia registered was pain. First, she couldn't feel much past her pounding head. Each pulse in her temples like thunder. Then, the sharp ache of her overpowered her head throbs. Sharp was the operative word, as she could feel deep gashes in her skin along the spine. "Oh, god..." She gasped. Her breathing was shallow, and her limbs slowly began to recover. Some slight movement, and more pain shot through her body. It was unbearable, and Nadia gave an animalistic cry.
Her fingers dug into tattered fabric. It took her a moment to realize she was lying on a couch, a blanket strewn over her body.
A few painful minutes, and Nadia had her eyes open and she was sitting up ever so slowly. "F-fuck.. Fuck." She swallowed hard. Her back felt stiff, and movement seemed to tear at the minimal scabs that were beginning to bind the wounds together.
Another thing she noticed, as her brain unscrambled, was her bra missing, as well as her scrub top. Thankfully, she wasn't left without cover. She still had the white long sleeve that she had worn underneath her nurses shirt.
"Michael!" Nadia yelled at. The memories of last night flooded back. Wherever she was, it was pitch black. Her hands shuffled for her pockets.
Some joy returned as she found the cellphone. Though it flickered low battery, she opened the screen. The light hurt her eyes, but she slowly registered the time.
3 AM, Halloween morning. Then, the phone died. Once again, Nadia was faced with darkness. Fear returned. She didn't like the dark. She never liked the dark. Admittedly, she was afraid of the dark.
Heavy footsteps on the wooden floors.
Anger? Slowly, it flooded her senses, her fingers digging into the old couch fabric. Michael had killed the one member of her family she really cared for. She was full of rage.
Fear, fear has a way of holding people though. Nadia didn't want to die. It was a simple fact, she valued her life far more than revenge. That simple flame of anger was quietly extinguished for the time.
"Michael?" It came out more like a whisper. The footsteps didn't stop, but they seemed to ignore her. They sounded in another room, but Nadia wasn't sure. Between her throbbing head and the pitch blackness, nothing seemed very real.
She moved a hand to the back of her neck, and flinched as she touched freshly cut skin. The cuts started there, at the base of her neck, and travelled down her spine to just above her rear end.
Dried blood stuck her shirt to her back.
Once again, Nadia slowly reached back. She bit her lip as she felt the cut. Something didn't add up about it's shape.
She tried to trace it, trying to figure it out. The more she touched, the more distinct it became.
"Oh, fuck..." She exhaled hard. Her hand jerked away. The shape was a sharp, deeply carved capital M. Nothing in Nadia wanted to know what the rest of the cuts were, but now she had a fairly decent idea.
The footsteps had entered the room, as far as she could tell. "M-marking me. Y-you're... You're marking me." She wanted to cry, but her eyes stayed dry. Like a dog pissing on a bone to mark it's territory, though perhaps a bit more crude.
Closer the footsteps came, and Nadia pulled her legs to her chest, with difficulty. She huddled on the couch, in a shocked state, as the couch indented beside her.
"Was he in the way of your escape, or in the way of getting to me?"
No reply. Of course no fucking reply. Nadia shuddered. Her shoes were missing too. Thin socks , a thin shirt and simple dollar store scrub bottoms left her feeling achingly cold. She could feel Michaels body heat, not realizing until now just how close he had been sitting to her. "I'm going to be sick..." She jumped off the couch.
The wave of nausea left her time to find somewhere to be sick, as she felt along the wall, until some light showed her to the kitchen. Nadia grabbed the edges of the sink, rust flaking on to her fingers, and her stomach heaved. Moonlight mixed with street lamps filtered through the rotten boards over the window. Breathing heavy, Nadia leaned forward and looked closer. She recognized the street.
"The Myers house.. We're in Haddonfield." That was impossible. The hospital was over a hundred miles away. There's no way anyone could walk that distance that quickly. "You're not human." It may have been the pain, but she almost believed her words, despite the joking, sarcastic tone. Hands gripped her hips, squeezing as she heard breath in her ear.
Another painful wave of nausea flooded her, and she bent forward, heaving again into the sink. Hands moved from her hips to her hair, pulling it away from her face. Nadia heaved until her stomach was empty, her eyes watering from the force.
She wanted everything to fade away again. To go back to her old memories and ignore the pain, the physical and mental ache that gripped her body. Nadia was far too aware. Closing her eyes did nothing, as she could still feel the whole of his body behind her, his hands still on her hair as his face probed her neck and ear.
"Are you the devil?" Nadia asked faintly. The quietest, breathiest laugh echoed in her ear, making her fingers dig into the counter, her body tensing. She had no idea what it meant, which scared her more than his usual silence.
