Once we were back in the cell, Myers again pulled me to his bed and back into his arms. I felt the sting of tears as he did so, but wasn't sure why. Because I knew Michael Myers would never feel the same way for me and I had a broken heart? Michael held me tighter, had he seen my tears? I was pretty sure the answer was yes when he stroked my hair back from my face and his hand rested briefly on my cheek.
"I wish I could say why I feel this way for you," I whispered. "But I honestly can't. But neither can I deny the facts, I…" But this time I was cut off as Michael lent towards me and silenced me with a kiss. I knew he'd never feel the same, of course I did. He didn't even know how to love; I knew that too. So part of me wished I hadn't said any of this. Michael Myers was very probably using me for his own advantage, nothing more or less. But I couldn't think about that, it hurt too much. Instead, I didn't stop Michael when he pushed my head back against his shoulder.
"Michael," I murmured after a few minutes of silence. "Can I show you something?" The killer made no response of course, but released me with one arm so I could get to my case. I pulled out a newspaper clipping and passed it to Michael.
It was an article on the day of the shooting, stating witnesses had seen Clive Roberts with the gun and had recognised him from seeing him previously. There were also pictures of the 6 victims along with their names. I couldn't read them again; I knew all their names only too well and it hurt too much to even think about them.
I thought again of my friend and colleague Christy, one of the very few survivors, who I hadn't spoken to more than once since the shooting. I was pretty sure she was suffering from PTSD just as I was. Why hadn't Clive killed her? There might be a possible reason where I was concerned, some remnants of brotherly acknowledgement at the very least, or else why had he told me that lie about the floor and called the office to say I was ill? But Christy? Why had Clive spared her? Had she hidden somewhere just as I had so he hadn't seen her?
I'd told the police all about Clive's fascination with guns of course, the very first time they'd interviewed me. I wasn't sure what Christy had said to them and hadn't asked. That was after all her business. I heard Myers turn the page and felt a rush of gratitude that he was in fact reading the whole article. There was a moment when I was almost certain he was staring directly at Clive's picture. I felt a chill run down my spine. If Michael Myers had his eyes on me as a victim, I'd be scared well… to death. But how the hell would my plan even work? Why would Myers even consider doing it? We didn't even know where Clive was right now, nor did the police. But this… this was Michael Myers. If he couldn't find a victim, no one could. I'd long suspected Myers had some kind of supernatural abilities, but why the hell would he even want to help me? He barely knew me.
Even though he's just kissed you? Said a quiet voice in my conscience. A lot? Kept your head on his shoulder? I ignored it and tried to tell myself that made no difference. It was for Myers' own reasons, nothing more, and nothing less. To Michael, it probably hadn't meant a thing. Yes I'd just placed my naked heart in the killer's hands, but that wouldn't make any difference either. I was sure that once I'd walked in to the cell the very first time, whatever happened would happen. As soon as Michael saw my face I might've been in danger of death. This would change nothing.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when Michael gently squeezed me against him. I started. Michael handed me back the article. "Thanks," I said, reaching over to put it back in my suitcase.
"You know," I found myself speaking before I could stop it, as Michael pulled me back close to him. "You're the only one who knows the whole story, not even my therapist does. I'm paying an absolute fucking fortune to see this woman and I can't tell her the fucking story! She's charging me the world to get into my damn head and it's doing absolutely nothing. Yet I meet you Michael and out it comes so easily! What's more, I think I know why. Because of how I feel for you. My therapist is cold, detached, just doing her job. But you Mr. Myers… Michael, you're… different.
I've wanted to meet you for years, be close to you in one way or another, and ok I was hoping to tell you this when I came here, about Clive I mean, but I never even dreamed I'd be able to tell you… what I just have. I think I expected to be dead before I got the chance," I managed to smile ruefully at him. "If I'm going to be completely honest, I feel a lot better now you know… well, both. Clive and… and this. Don't worry, I'm not expecting anything to happen from it, but at least you know. I now know you're… not oblivious. Even if… if I die for it…"
I was stopped when Michael once again took my mouth with his, in an intense kiss. This time when our mouths opened and tongues met, it felt even from him, loving. I desperately tried to clamp down the hope building in my heart. It means nothing, I reminded myself. Nothing. Maybe he's just toying with me before he kills me! He might not have toyed with his victims before, but you're giving him the perfect opportunity to do so! Damn it Zoe, you've been unbelievably stupid! Michael released me briefly just long enough to catch our breath, before he was kissing me again in just the same way as before. "Michael," I said softly. "Oh God… Michael!"
I was sure he made a soft sound of amusement before he was kissing me again. I tried not to acknowledge it, but his kisses were seriously turning me on. I could feel myself becoming more and more aroused and was struggling to hide it. "Michael," I gasped when he released my mouth again. "Michael, I… you…"
I was stopped again as Michael pulled me against him, this time almost violently as our mouths this time smashed into contact. He knew damn well what I was trying to say, and what I was feeling. Of this, I was certain.
"God I want you Michael," I'd said before I could stop myself. "I need you, I…
I love you!" I was gasping for air where by contrast, Michael's breathing was as calm and steady as always. It was as if nothing was happening. Now with one hand he shoved up my top and his hands touched my skin. I braced myself for pain, judging as Michael Myers was a violent man, but I was shocked by how careful he was being. His hands teased my breasts before he pinched my nipples between his fingers.
"I can take my top and bra off if you want," I whispered to him. "Plus everything else." Myers released me so I could do just that. He then stood, removing his own clothes. I lay down before he could grab me this time and within a second I was back in his arms as we once again kissed intensely. Myers's hands though not exactly gentle seemed to set my very skin on fire. It was clear he'd never had a woman before, but then of course I already knew this. Part of me was honoured to be his first, even if I didn't live to remember it later.
When Myers slipped a hand between my legs I couldn't help but speak softly. "Please, be gentle?" I could only imagine the pain if he wasn't. To my gratitude and shock, the killer acknowledged my request and when he softly began to stroke my clitoris before slipping a finger in to me, it was just that. Damn. For a guy who'd never had sex before, Michael Myers sure knew what he was doing. As he continued to stroke me, I felt my orgasm building. He didn't stop and I had to let go, softly moaning his name as I did so, my lips automatically seeking his and he didn't push me back. On the contrary, he kissed me back just as softly. It was as if he'd realised things had forever changed between us just as I did. You couldn't go back after something like this.
As we still kissed, Myers now climbed atop me. Was I ready for this even given how I felt for him? But even I knew I couldn't stop now. That was when Myers gently pushed my hair back from my sweat soaked face and took my hand in his, squeezing it once. I didn't have to hear it, I knew. He was asking me if I was sure. That decided me. "Yes," I breathed. "Yes, Michael."
This time I could tell he was doing everything to be gentle, as he slid in to me and broke my virgin skin. There was the pain I'd read about and Myers didn't move for a moment for which I was exceptionally grateful. Before long he started to move and I knew it felt good to him because he did speed up then and his movements became harder, rougher. I said nothing though, figuring he would've never experienced anything like this before of course. Before long, I felt him ejaculate in to me. He still lay atop me, his arms wrapped around me as we kissed again.
I could hardly believe I'd just given my virginity to the masked mass murderer Michael Myers. Myers' breathing was already back to normal, it was as if nothing had happened. Eventually he rolled off me and pulled me back in to his arms. I had no idea how he felt about what we'd just done. Nothing probably. He'd just had a damn good fuck and that was all I supposed. This realisation made me feel a little sad stupidly. Had he even heard anything I'd said? I tried to cover it and turned my head away. Next second the killer's hand was against my head, turning it back to face him as he held me close.
Once again the next morning, no one said anything about what they would've seen. Once more true professionals. It was now day 5 of my initial week and I wanted it to last 10 years. Hell I never wanted to leave again! I knew Dr Sartain knew this just as well as I did.
That night, I told Michael where I lived, not even considering the consequences. I did after all, live in Haddonfield. I only fully registered what this might mean after the words had left my mouth. Michael of course didn't acknowledge it, just held me. I wasn't even sure if he was listening to a word I said.
Clive Roberts crawled through the smashed window, trying to avoid the sharp pieces of glass. He was a coward. He didn't believe the bullshit which surrounded the building to which he had just forced entry, the Myers house. He didn't buy it being haunted, but it would play to his advantage. He would be safe, as no one, adults or children alike would dare enter this house. 45 Lampkin Lane was cursed, local legend had it, some idiots had even tried to make it a shrine to a group of serial killers. It was in a bad state of disrepair, but that suited him down to the ground. It was so uninhabitable even, he doubted anyone would even suspect anyone was living there. He smirked to himself. The stupid cops were so close to their shooter, but so far. No one alive had seen his face. To this day over 2 months later, he wasn't sure why he'd told Zoe the floor was being relayed, it was the first excuse he thought of. Even if she had been there, she wouldn't have seen him, his sister was blind.
Several times he'd wondered why he'd even told Zoe what he had, what difference did it make if she'd been in the office or not? Was it some kind of brotherly… what? Acknowledgement? Remnants of affection? He'd never deeply cared about her all their lives, but had some unknown feeling for him stopped her being in the office that day? Not wanting her to be in danger?
Clive wasn't stupid. He knew that if he was caught, he'd face the lethal injection without doubt. He was in Illinois, a state where the death penalty was still legal. He knew as a result, he had to be very careful. But damn! The feeling of power, euphoria even he'd felt when holding that gun, had been exhilarating, almost addictive. He wanted to feel it again. He had Roy to thank for this and he knew it. His Aunt's boyfriend had been a serious hard ass, he didn't take shit from anyone. He'd got Clive into drugs, sex and everything in between, including guns. He wasn't sure even now why he'd targeted the office Zoe worked in. Maybe because with a blind woman working there, he could have an alibi? If he'd told her the floor was being relayed, she wouldn't be there so would know nothing about it. That said, if the police were smart enough, they'd figure out this was actually not the case and start looking at him. But so far, it seemed they hadn't. Of course, even if his sister had spoken to the cops, what could she tell them? He'd also phoned the office the day before the shooting and told Zoe's colleagues she was unwell, so would not be in that day. Both had worked in his favour. If he was honest, he almost couldn't believe how easy it'd been. Too easy, almost.
He couldn't believe how easy it'd been to get into the Myers house, it seemed nobody cared if anyone was there or not. But then, why would they? This was the Haddonfield house of horrors, no one wanted to be there. So not only would they not care, but they wouldn't find him. Michael Myers, that lunatic serial killer was locked in a mental hospital hundreds of miles away, so it wasn't like he'd ever come back here, not again, not after 1978.
Clive didn't know much about the killings of 78, he'd only been 3 when it happened. But he had done his research and by all accounts, they'd be bloody, violent and ruthless. Michael Myers' M.O of course. If truth be told, Clive wouldn't want to come face to face with the manioc, he was silent, masked and lethal. Clive was a big man himself, but even he didn't like his chances against someone like Michael Myers.
He'd read Dr Samuel Loomis' papers on the killer, describing him as pure evil. "I met this 6 year old child with this expressionless face and the blackest eyes, the devil's eyes."
Those words had even made him, Clive Roberts shiver, and he was not normally one who was afraid of anyone or anything. But if that was indeed true, he would be running in the opposite direction if Michael Myers ever did come home. "I spent 8 years trying to reach him and another 7 keeping him locked up because I'd realised what lived behind that boy's eyes was pure evil," Dr Loomis had also said.
Sometimes, but not often, he found himself wondering what exactly Zoe was doing with her life. Was she married? Had a boyfriend? Kids of her own? He hadn't kept in touch with her after she'd gone away to that school for blind people and hadn't wanted to. But since the shooting, he did find himself asking these questions. He still wasn't sure why he cared though. He told himself he didn't, was just curious.
He grinned as his mind now went to the gorgeous prostitutes Roy had introduced him too at the tender age of 15. He knew it was illegal, but damn it'd felt good! Roy had brought him into watch as he'd fucked one of them and it'd turned Clive on majorly. He wanted that for himself.
"Want some of this?" Roy had asked him with a smirk and he moved in and out of the woman and slapped her breasts. "Fuck, it's good my boy!"
That very night, Clive had lost his virginity by fucking the woman Roy had just done. It'd felt amazing, but hadn't lasted long as he'd ejaculated ridicule fast. Roy had thumped him on the back and told him not to worry, that was normal for a first time. He'd then thrown some money at the whore who'd left as fast as she could.
After that, prostitutes became an almost nightly thing, something Clive looked forward to so much. Zoe meanwhile would hide in her room, as if trying to remain invisible. Stupid, considering they were invisible to her! At 16, Clive had once asked Roy if he'd ever considered having sex with Zoe. His step father had smirked and said "no, she's not my type! You could if you wanted, but it's illegal, they call it incest," he'd sneered.
"You've got to be joking," he'd said. "No thanks dad! Although, she wouldn't see it coming, or me!" They'd both laughed heartily at this.
Nope, all in all for a fugitive on the run, Clive couldn't complain. The police had no evidence he'd done it as he'd got out with his gun seconds before they arrived in the building and no one had seen what he looked like. He didn't want the needle in his arm, or the sodium Thiopental, Pan coronium Bromide and potassium Chloride which would follow as a result. What a terrible way to go! They might knock him out with the first shot, but he'd read all the ways it could go wrong. Nope. They weren't going to have him on a gurney hooked up to those deadly IV's! Not if he could help it.
He wasn't sure where he went next, but for now he would hide out in the Myers house, where he knew he was safe for more than one reason. Roy would be here soon, bringing him food and other necessities he would need to survive. He was going to go with his step farther and help him with his… business. Robbery and assault. Maybe he could get some sex while he was at it. He hadn't had any since the shooting and while he could use his hand, fuck! There was something like screwing a woman with a tight, wed pussy.
Roy had some friends who were going to do some basic work on the house, purely to make it a slightly more habitable hide out. Clive was even getting it for free as he was Roy's step son. Even though he and Anne were no longer together, Roy it seemed really cared about him. Anne had left him as fast as she could after he'd blacked both her eyes and broken her jaw. She'd probably deserved it, he mused.
Settling into one of the old and battered chairs, surrounded by layers of cobwebs and dust, he pulled out his phone and started playing on it as he waited for his step father and his friends. Yes, for a guy on the run, his life was quite good right now.
