Author's Note:
Hello again everyone. I'd like to preface this by saying that now that I had to redo the tenses in this story also, because somehow I keep forgetting that I'm using third person and not first person. I'm always up for comments/criticism. Thanks for reading!
A New Kind of Curse
Chapter Two
Cold, rusted metallic gears and conduits shifted beneath the girl's hands, the sounds of the generator echoing softly into the chilly night air. The loud, clanking sounds of it always made her so tense, and she wished there was a way to quiet these things down. Sadly, she hadn't found a way to do that just yet.
At the other side of this generator was Dwight, a helpful man, but sometimes painfully flighty; seems like he's always the first to hide when someone's in trouble or needs help.
At this point in her life-well, can you even call this a life?- she began to think her face had been permanently molded into a hopeless, fearful frown. How much longer did she have to do this before moving on to the next life?
Or was this the last one?
She didn't think she deserved to be sent to Hell, but she could hardly imagine a life worse than this one, being stabbed and beaten nearly every waking moment of this life.
She'd been nervously awaiting her next meeting with Myers, although surprisingly it hadn't come yet. She'd been wondering for days whether or not the Entity was aware of what happened between them. Has it banned him from seeing me? She wondered to herself. She wasn't exactly sure of how much time had passed, but she did know she'd encountered seemingly every killer multiple times since, but hadn't seen him again.
Somehow, she was actually disappointed. She'd been nervous to see him again, since she was unsure of the way his mind worked, or if he's even really got one at all. Will he remember what happened last time? Will he care, or experience any slight emotion that might represent that he does?
If that was the case, then how would that affect her time in the trials? Would the Entity eventually choose to have her lifted up, never to be seen again, tragically consumed by its cold, spidery fingers?
Lost in her reverie, the hair at the back of the girl's neck began to prickle, and she began to sense that she was being watched.
She threw a quick glance over her shoulder, and immediately let out a startled gasp.
There he was, in his villianeous glory. That empty white mask; the large, broad body.
Suddenly, flashbacks made an inherent attack on her brain. Her fingers fell from the generator. In the corner of her eye she saw Dwight jump up, and sprint away, but she hardly noticed.
She was back with Michael, the last time she'd seen him. Just before she left the trial.
He'd just placed her from his shoulder and planted her on the ground in front of him, taking a moment to study the girl he'd had his first romantic encounter with. She stared up into his mask and he looked down into her tearful eyes.
She said she'd see him again. Then without a moment's pause, he'd hoisted her up, and hung her by the neck on that old, rusty hook.
He'd watched as the Entity came down, lifting her up and taking her away to some other dimension he'd never been to.
And now, here she was again; back within his world. Back within his realm of control.
The girl once again snapped back into consciousness as the faint sounds of a heartbeat began to crescendo into a mind-numbing thump thump thump.
She was just turning her body to run the hell away, when the bloodthirsty killer stomped right past her, bloodied knife poised in the air, taking off after the jittery Dwight.
Her hand flew to her chest as she fell to the ground, heaving out a few shaky breaths as she watched Myers chase Dwight into the distance. His pace never exceeded a from walk, but he was still so fast.
Whatever he had in store for her, she wasn't sure if she could escape.
Then again, do I really want to escape him? she asked herself.
She nearly punched herself in the face at the thought. Don't be so stupid and crazy! the girl chastised herself. You can't fall in love with a fucking killer.
But somehow, deep within her heart, she could not deny that she might have been craving to see him again, and to be close to him again. Hell, she'd even dreamed of being carried over his shoulders one more time, even if it was on the way to the dreaded hook...
She took a moment to steady herself, and continued working on the generator, the sounds of it signaling that it was just about done.
Just as soon as the gen popped and she was shrouded in a white, iridescent glow, she heard a scream in the distance, and was made aware that Dwight had finally been taken down only a few meters away. She watched stoically as she crept away from the generator and Dwight's silhouetted body was lifted off the ground, then thrown onto a hook.
That all-too familiar scream erupted throughout the entire forest, and never fell short of sending her brain into a terrified frenzy. Before she could stop herself she began to sprint in the opposite direction of Dwight, finding herself in the old Ironworks building. Before she could stop herself the heartbeat erupted in her mind and she sprinted around a corner, hoping to find a good hiding place, when she was met with a hard-bodied Michael Myers and the sharp, piercing tip of his kitchen knife. It slashed right through her chest and she wailed in pain, sprinting forward, ducking boxes and barrels, in a desperate attempt to get away. But as she continued on for a few feet, with a clearly visible trail of blood leading directly to her current position, she was aware of the heartbeat disappearing.
Through a window, she watched as the killer stalked off into the forest once again.
She turned and began to climb the stairs, blood marking every step she took. Her brain began working to comprehend what had just happened.
For some reason, it seemed as if he did not actually mean to hit her. It was as if he stabbed her out of a mixture of instinct and surprise, as neither had a good visual of each other before that moment occurred.
Don't get your hopes up, she said to herself sternly.
...But then why didn't he follow me?
She cursed herself at the top of the stairs, seeing that someone else had already gathered the contents of this chest. With no other choice, as she didn't want to throw herself from the top story of this large building, she begrudgingly made her way back down to the bottom floor.
She became aware that Dwight's silhouette was still visible, now grasping at the Entity's claws and attempting to fight them from piercing his struggling body.
He didn't have much time left.
Ever the team player, the girl broke into action, her legs carrying her in a frantic sprint across the metallic floor and once again planting her feet into the crunching grass and dirt, doing her best to limp along to that fateful hook. As she neared the hook, placed dreadfully out in the open surrounded by no trees or sight-shelter, she began to hear Dwight's whimpers and desperate cries for help.
Don't worry, you little baby. I'm coming to save you.
Crouching at the base of the hook, and throwing a few distressed glances this way and that, she assumed that it was safe, and reached up to lift his heavy body from the hook. When his feet hit the ground, he sprinted off to the edge of the map, moaning and bleeding profusely.
The girl took off after him.
They rendesvoused behind a large rock and a conveniently placed tree. Dwight crouched to the ground and the girl's hands began moving this way and that over his body, patching up the wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She healed him slowly, but made sure to see it all the way through.
Now, the girl crouched to the ground, staring emptily into the dirt as Dwight returned the favor.
After a few seconds, she was surprised as Dwight's hands stopped their healing and he turned to sprint away from her. By instinct she jumped up and began to follow him as he sprinted back toward the building. Then an omnipresent sound notified her that the killer was around here somewhere...
A few mere feet in front of her, Dwight threw a look over his shoulder and his eyes went wide. Then he changed his course of direction, leaping to the right and attempting to shield himself behind a fallen log...
All just as Michael brushed past her, nearly knocking her to the ground with his long-legged gait, all too quickly closing the gap between himself and her comrade, before bringing the blade down at the nape of Dwight's neck, sending him to the dirt in one fatal hit.
"Aaaagghhh!" Dwight screamed in terror. The girl watched as he was effortlessly hoisted into the air once again.
Dwight's arms and legs flailed as he attempted to struggle free of Myer's grasp. "You tunneling BASTARD!" he screamed.
At this point, she was beginning to feel like this was her fault. Even if she and Dwight never really got along, he was still her teammate. Still sort of/kind of her friend.
She could see the direction Myers was walking in. Maybe she could get there in time...
She began sprinting as quickly as her injured body would allow. She wasn't sure how he hadn't seen her trodding up next to him as he began to near the hook, although surely that mask didn't allow him the broadest field of view.
The girl jumped in front of Myers at the last second, planting herself right in front of the hook in a crouched position as Dwight continued to attempt to wriggle free.
She wasn't sure why, but for some reason this sometimes worked. She stared up at Michael with a mix of terror and hope, as he stood staring straight ahead, holding Dwight in his arms, unable to throw him on the hook as there was someone in the way.
Only a few seconds before he realizes...
SHIK! His blade whistled through the air, slashing her right at the neck, without even looking down at her for a second. He was too strong for Dwight to wriggle free, and she fell to the ground, helpless and weak, now that her plan had failed.
She looked up just as Dwight's body was tossed mercilessly onto the hook.
"I'm sorry, Dwight..." she murmured to herself, although surely he couldn't hear, as his body was mutilated and carried into the air, consumed by the Entity, and the pointed blade of the hook crashed to the ground just next to her with a metallic TWANG.
Michael turned to her quickly, staring down at her for something like half of a second. Her heart nearly stopped, looking at him face to face again for the first time in a long time.
What now?
Have I ruined the mercy that he had chosen to show me?
The girl began to realize that this was the end of that rope, when Michael stooped down, placing a thick hand around her neck and lifting her in the air, bringing her face merely inches from his mask. So close, she could hear his breaths going in, and out, forever calm and unhurried. Her hands struggled weakly with his, and her feet dangled high in the air.
He was staring at her still. She could feel him looking right into her eyes, even if she couldn't see them.
Then, a voice. In her head. Sounding just like her own thoughts, although she knew that this did not come from her.
Do not interfere.
Then she was thrown to the ground, discarded to the side like the shell of a pistachio, crashing onto her back so hard the breath was knocked out of her chest.
Her blurred vision stilled to see the killer stalking away, once again.
Lying on the ground like a helpless injured bird made her feel weak and pathetic.
Fear of the unknown is an impenetrable force. In her past life, fear drove her from many things. Fear of the dark, fear of spiders, fear of burglars or rapists. Those all seemed so mundane now. Oh, what she'd do to have those back.
This was so much different. Imagine, being trapped in a nightmare with a variety of different creatures or serial killers. Each with a contract to kill, in the most brutal way possible. And a demon that appears from thin air with long, spidery arms and claws to stab you and carry you up into the foggy abyss, to eat you, or whatever the hell it does.
Imagine getting used to that, or as used to it as you possibly could be. Imagine reaching the point in your life where you know you're going to die sometimes, and you know you're going to live sometimes, and you're basically okay with that. You know to expect being stabbed and thrown on a hook. It's just a day to day thing, now.
Then one day, that changes. Something is different now, but you don't know what, and you don't know what it's going to do to you.
That's the position she was in now. Lying on the ground, hardly able to move, only able to crawl. Lying in a pool of blood. Knife cuts covering her body. Unable to remain quiet and undetected, due to the immense amount of pain.
At first she didn't much care what happened to her anymore. She wasn't worried about the pain, or that fear, or the guilt of her comrades dying. As previously mentioned, it was just a daily thing.
But now, she had something to worry about. There was no longer a doubt in her mind that Michael was doing this on purpose. He had something planned for her, and she had no idea what.
Was it revenge? Did he feel as if she had taken advantage of him? Or had she sparked some kind of an obsession? What would that mean for her?
All these questions and more haunted her brain, as she cried quietly, crawling away in a last attempt to escape, if only for a moment.
A scream erupted from the woods behind her, and she needn't look to know that someone had just been thrown on a hook.
She heard footsteps crunching up next to her, and turned her head to see Jake running up to her.
Though she was thankful, she nearly cried out to tell him to go away. Hide. Try to live, without her. At this point, she just felt like a bad luck charm; Michael knew about where she was, and was also smart enough to know that someone was going to try and save her.
But she didn't. Hell, he probably wouldn't listen anyway.
She stared up emptily at her savior, thoughts and curiosities swirling in her brain. He was probably wondering why she was gazing at him, but she hadn't the energy to explain.
Here came that feeling, again. That "Myers is watching" type of feeling.
Her eyes snapped away from Jake the moment she noticed it, and looked down the way to see exactly that. A ghostly face shrouded in the shadows, simply watching them. Stalking. Gaining power.
"Jake, run!" she hissed.
"I'm almost do-"
"RUN!"
Maybe it was the shrill, desperate sound of her voice, but this time he listened. She looked up again to see that Myers was moving much more quickly now, blade once again poised high in the air.
"Run!" she cried again, helplessly, feeling as if she was watching a little puppy run into a busy street. Seemingly in slow motion, she watched Jake sprinting through the grass. Her heart swelled with a mixture of pity, anguish and sadness at the sight of him constantly looking over his shoulder, desperate and fearful, attempting to escape a bloodthirsty killer. She willed herself to get up, jump in front of him, do something, but her body would not allow her.
Finally, Jake couldn't run anymore. The blade came down, and so did he, crashing to the ground with a terrible cry that shook her heart and made her stomach turn. In the distance behind him, she saw the other survivor give up on its battle with the Entity, their arms falling to their sides as its claws punctured their mangled body.
This was it.
Without thought, tears began streaming down her face. She didn't even realize she was crying; actually, she didn't realize anything at all. No thoughts were going through her brain as she watched Michael carry a squirming Jake into the shed, and down the stairs; throwing his body on a hook in the disgusting, hellish basement. That scream penetrated the air once again, but this time, something was different...
Just her and Michael, now.