Chapter 8

I'm sorry I took so long to update. I always said "I would never be one of those writers who stops the story from writers block." But it happened. I will not do that again! It's a little bit shorter than the rest of the chapters, but I had to end it on a good part. Enjoy!

As I got undressed, I avoided looking in the mirror. If I looked anything like I felt, it would be a horrifying sight. My bones were sore, my skin was pale, and I could feel the pressure of my head pounding. While brushing my hands through my hair, I could feel the dry, greesy texture that resembled hay. I had to get cleaned up fast!

The shower curtain was off white, with pale patches from fading over the years. I pulled it open to reveal a rusty tub with an old shower head that had yellow stains going down the wall. I would have been discusted, but considering that I've been locked in a sewer for a few days, this didn't seem so bad. I stepped in, turning the knob real hard. It squeaked loudly as the water turned on. I adjusted the temperature to almost the hottest it could go. As the water hit my back, I took in the way the warmth loosened my muscles. The water hydrated my skin, bringing me back to life. I stood there, closing my eyes. I was so relaxed. Then I remembered that Michael was waiting outside. I looked at the door every 5 seconds, to make sure that he did not come in. Michael putting a knife to my throat when Dr. Loomis knocked on the door, really made me not trust him.

I scrubbed my body down, making sure to remove every inch of the days of dirt piled on my skin. I put on shampoo, and conditioner, massaging my scalp. Then I took one more rinse in the shower, feeling the warm water pour down on me, loosening my tense posture. I stepped out, feeling like a brand new person. I wiped down the fog off of the mirror, and plugged in the hair dryer. As the hot air blew on my face flowing my hair, I realised that I took the freedom of pampuring myself for granted. I used to think that it was such a pain to waste time getting ready. But I now know that this was an everyday privilege.

I blowed my hair straight, then curled it out at the end. I could feel the difference as I brushed my hands through. It was soft, and thick, the way that I usually kept it. I put on my black baggy sweat pants, and tight fitted pink tshirt. Then I brushed my teeth, and applied lipgloss on. I now looked like Amy again, I couldn't help but smile lightly in the mirror. Then I realised that I would have to face Michael when I got out. A ping of fear took over as I came to realization that this would be my new life, for as long as he lets me live. The smile faded, and I tore my body in the direction of the door, walking towards my gloom.

I opened the door and jumped to see Michael standing there, staring down at me. His eyes traveled around slowly as he looked over my face, hair, and clothes. Then he blinked, flashing his black eyes back at mine. I caught my breath not sure to be afraid, or confused. Either way, the stare he gave was intimidating. The phone rang, interupting our awkward staring contest. My head quickly snapped in the direction of my room where the phone was located. Michael just stared at me with warning in his eyes. I looked up at him for approval.

"Please let me get this." I whispered.

He continued to look at me firmly.

"If you think that I might say something bad, you can hang up and bring me back in the sewers.. Please." I pleaded.

The phone rang again, announcing its end. I stared at Michael with anticipation. He loosened his stance and looked in the room. I could tell that he was annoyed, but I still took the chance to walk into the room and quickly answer the phone in its mid-ring.

"Hello?" I said cautiosly.

"Hey, Amy. It's Mr. Bradley. It's about time you answered." He paused waiting for a response, but I was so nerveous, all I could let out was a half sigh, half laugh.

"You haven't been to work in two days! Are you okay? Where have you been?" He attacked.

I finally put it all together. I was in the sewers for 4 days. It felt so much longer than it really was. Like a hell that made time go eternally slow. I wasn't prepared for this, I had to come up with a lie. I could see Michaels' shadow hovering over me, threatening to hurt me if I said anything wrong, or gave anything away. I was pannicking. Finally I gathered up the courage to come up with a reasonable explaination.

"I'm okay. I was having trouble sleeping, so the doctor gave me medicine. I didn't know that it would make me completely pass out for days. I should have called you. I'm sorry." I trailed off, knowing that he didn't care what excuse I had.

"It's okay Amy, but you better not have this problem again in the future." He scoweled.

"I won't." I said assuringly.

"You can take the rest of the day off to relax. But tomorrow, we will talk about this." He demanded.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Click. He hung up with out a goodbye.

I stared at the phone, completely ashamed. I sighed as I hung it up.

"I just got my boss to notice all of my hard work. Now I have to start all over again." I hung my head with disappointment.

Michael didn't understand why Amy was so upset. Why did people even need a job? He got all he wanted right here. A bed in the sewers, he ate animals when he needed to, and drank water from the faucet. It didn't make sense to him why people cared about others things in life. Infact, he didn't care about life at all. He was cut off in thought when Amy spoke.

"Michael, are you going to let me out of this house?"

Michael tensed, and his eyes hardened furiously. I could feel the anger comming from him. I had to find a way to make him trust me. Although logic told me to run the first chance I get, the reckless side of me knew that I would go to work, then return to Michael with out a word to anyone. He would kill me anyway, what choice do I have? There was no way I could return with complete free will. It has to be because I'm under his control. I wouldn't choose to come back. I kept telling myself over and over again.

Even though I was still held captive, this was free compared to being in the sewers. Now I could shower, cook, make coffee. With that thought, my face light up. I hopped up and turned to face Michael. He immediatly took a step closer and stared down at me defensively. I forgot, I can't make sudden movements around Michael. He is a killer that is not used to being around other people.

"I'm sorry. I just want to go to the kitchen. I'm hungry." Giving him a fearful expression. His eyes softened and he took a step back, giving me room to walk by. I looked at the stairs, then back at him for assurance. He returned the gesture, giving me the okay. I let out a sigh, as if saying "thank you". I had an eery feeling that he was close behind me, boring his eyes in the back of my head. I shakily made my way down the stairs, trying to ignore it.

When I got to the kitchen, I went straight to the refrigerator. I took out chicken cutlets and fried them on a pan. I added sauce, and boiled noodles. My stomach growled with anticipation of a "real meal". Michael watched curiously as I layed out two plates on the table, then placed the bowl of food in the middle. I sat down to make a plate of food, while he stood there, staring at the food. I motioned for him to sit down.

"I made enough for you too, sit down." I said kindly. He didn't move. "Okay, what ever." I said dryly.

I was about to take a bite, when I noticed Michael staring down at me, watching my every move. I became nerveous, and agitated.

"Can you atleast sit down?" I spat, pulling out the chair for him. I would feel much better if I was at eye level with him, and not being towered over like a teacher checking up on a student, a killer teacher with a knife in their hand. He looked down at the chair for a minute, then sat down. I relaxed and started to eat, while he watched the whole time.

"Do you eat?" I asked, I mentally kicked myself for asking a stupid question.

"What do you eat?" I corrected myself.

He looked at the window, I followed his gaze to see a dog sitting on the neighbors' back porch. My eyes widened, and I yelled, "A dog?" in disbelief. He tilted his head, as if he didn't understand my outraged expression. I felt bad. He didn't think it was weird. After all, he kills people, why not eat mans best friend. They're just animals like a cow, or a chicken.

"I don't like dogs anyway." I said casually, trying to cover up me reaction. He straighten his head and blinked in response. I couldn't help but smile. The situation was kind of funny, and his reaction was even more humorous, in a phsyco kind of way. What is wrong with me? I shook my head as I sat up, bringing the dishes to the sink.

Michael sat up with me, and was a step behind me the whole time. I turned to look at him. It was the first time I got a good look in the light. His uniform was a dark navy blue, it almost looked black in the sewers. His shoulders were broad, His arms and chest were firm. His stomach was flat, and his hips were narrow. The collar of the uniform wasn't buttoned all the way, it showed the top of his chest, and a little of his neck underneath his mask. Aside from being a killer, he was kind of attractive. His eyes shown a hint of brown in the light. Though, his pupils were still a deep dark black, that were sucking me in once again, with extra force this time. It was so intense that I had to turn around to get away from it. I started to make coffee to keep myself distracted.

When Amy turned around, he was in view of her whole body. Her hair was thick and shiny. It hung down her back that led to her tight shirt and lowrise pants. It exposed the flesh of her back, and waist. Michael felt that familiar pressure again. He didn't understand it, but what ever his body told him to do, he would do.

Michael stalked over closer to her. He reached out and brushed his fingers along her back. It felt so soft. He mesmerized every arche and curve of her back as he rubbed from the left side of her hip, to the right.

I shivered at his touch. It was so unexpected, I didn't even hear him come up behind me. Here we go again, another touching inspection. He must be curious about my exposed skin. Oh my god! How stupid can I be? I wore a shirt that shows my stomache, a perfect way to show him a vulnerable place to stab. I froze under his touch as he brushed his fingers back and forth slowly. I was extremely frightened. At any moment he could reach for the knife that was placed on the counter right beside me, or he could simply just crush me with his hands, the ones that are on my back right now. The more I thought about his power, the more exciting it became. I was actually getting hot from this. I felt a rush of adreniline as I felt his touch. I arched my back, and whipped my head back on his chest. I could feel his rubber mask against my head.

Michael instantly reacted by letting out a loud, deep breath. He grabbed my hips and pushed me into the counter. My hip bones ached from the impact, followed by another crash into the counter. This time he used his lower body to push me. The pain quickly faded when I realised that he was pinning me against the counter with his body. And I could feel that he was aroused. My breathing was uneven. I could not believe that Michael Myers was sexually attracted to me. From what I knew, he didn't feel anything. He was emotionless. This was his first time touching someone like this. My eyes widened. That means that he is unpredictable. He could be very dangerous. He could hurt me in the process, or kill me! I tensed up, feeling his breathing against my ear. I was sick to be pleasured in the first place. This is wrong. I was about to protest, when he turned me over, picked me up, and placed me on the counter. He stood inbetween my legs, pressing himself into me. I was dizzy, unable to think straight while his hypnotic eyes possessed me. Ohh.. It feels so.. No! I cannot feel this way about him. He's a killer!

I turned my pleasured expression to serious as I started to say. "Michael." He put his hand over my mouth, pushing me back, laying me down on the counter. If it weren't for the clothes, he would be controling me right now. I closed my eyes and moaned into his hand. Michaels' eyes widened. He buckled his hips and thrust against me, letting out a low grunt. My wolrd spun around, leaving me breathless. I can't keep losing focus. I have to stop before this gets out of hand. Struggling against him would only anger him. I have to be calm, and rational about this.

I looked into the devils' eyes that held a passionate, yet sadistic gaze. Once again, I had to gain strength. I put my hand over his very gently, and gave him a look of reason. He stared down at our hands over lapping eachother. Then looked down at our bodies touching. His eyes went from exotic, to bewildered. He backed up and stared at the floor, deep in thought for a few moments. His expression changed from wild, to horrified in that second. It made me nerveous.

Michael did not know why he was having these feelings. This girl was making him vulnerable. He did not experience feelings. Even when he kills, he's emotionless and blank. But her body, the sight of her, the scent of her, her voice, it made a muscle tense that he never felt before. When he pushed himself to her, it was the most warm, powerful experience he ever felt in his whole life. It was uncontrolable, and frustrating. He did not know what he was going to do, or what it even meant. He saw other people doing this on the nights that he stalked and killed on Halloween. They were weak, defenseless people who paid no attention to the dangers that surrounded them. He could not be like that. He had to be alert. He didn't stop because she wanted him to, he stopped because he was angry at his emotions.

I sat on the counter frozen. I couldn't move if I tried. I was in shock. What just happened? What did he do? And more importantly, did I like it? The thoughts in my head ran furiously. I looked over to see him staring intensely at the floor, with his fist clenched. I decided to keep quiet, and not set him off.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Michaels' head snapped up, and he grabbed the butcher knife on the counter beside me.

"Michael, put the knife down." I said very calmly.

He didn't even look at me, he just kept his eyes at the door. The door knocked and I heard Dr. Loomis call out, "Amy, I see your lights on. I just want to make sure everything is alright." He paused to hear a response.

I looked at Michael, trying to reason with him.

"Please let me get this. He'll just come in if I don't answer. You have to trust me." He didn't take his eyes off the door. Another knock followed.

"I'm comming in to check up on you." Dr. Loomis warned.

My heart was pounding, I looked at Michael with pannic in my eyes. "Please." I whispered. He turned and stared back at me. His glare turned calm as he took in the desperation on my face.

I heard the door knob turning, and whipped my head to see the door banging. When I looked back, Michael was gone. I stared at the spot he was standing, and tried to come up with a logical reason for how he could dissapear so fast. I would have been more baffled, but I didn't have time to care since Dr. Loomis was standing outside of my door trying to break in. I took the time to answer the door, before Dr. Loomis broke the lock.

Okay everyone! I know that this chapter was short, but I already have chapter 9 halfway written. So it will be up shortly! Review, tell me what you think about this chapter! Thank you.