A New Kind of Curse

Chapter Four

Here begins yet another dull, redundant trial led by its bloodthirsty killer, Michael Myers. Michael found himself spawned into yet another dark, moonlit forest, crows settling down atop rocks and buildings, bushes and leaves swaying against a light and undetectable breeze, and survivors surely creeping about here somewhere. None of it was entertaining anymore.

If he was capable of basic human emotions, Michael would have groaned as he weilded the kitchen knife confidently in front of him, the way a child would as it woke up for school. But, he was incapable of such outward expressions of emotion, and was doomed to live his life with thoughts and feelings left forever unexpressed.

But, that did not mean that those thoughts and feelings did not exist.

He crept around quietly, keeping an eye out for any moving and breathing sack of flesh that was destined for the sharp tip of his blade. It had been quite a while since his conversation with the Entity, and he craved for the return of this human girl, his ticket away from this dreary, hopeless dystopia. He began every match now searching for her in particular.

From around the corner of a very large rock, Michael noticed a dark green jacket creeping about, being quite useless to its other living teammates. This one definitely deserved to die.

As was his profession, Michael utilized the moment to generate power from stalking the oblivious soul, gaining power every second, remaining completely unnoticed, until instinctively his arm rose up above his head and he brandished the knife high in the air. He moved much more quickly now, and turned the corner of the large stone just as the survivor-a hopeful Jake-took off at a full sprint to keep away from him. But, it was no use, as Michael's long-legged strides allowed him to catch up very quickly. For a moment he derived some small speck of enjoyment from the sight of Jake fearfully glancing over his shoulder as he ran, terror apparent within his gleaming eyes.

The chase didn't last long before the knife came down hard into the flesh of the survivor's back. The force of Myers' stab was too great and Jake collapsed to the ground with a rather dramatic cry of pain.

Just as he had done a hundred times before, Michael effortlessly hoisted up the man, throwing him over his shoulder and walking to the nearest hook, just outside of an old wooden building. Once the man was heaved up, his body punctured through by the hook, Michael stalked off once again, searching for his next victim.

He didn't make it very far before he could hear the sounds of another person-a girl, judging by the sounds of its faint gasps-sprinting past him, somewhere out of eyesight. And so, he turned around, and in the not so far off distance caught sight of Jake hanging from the hook, and not too far before him, was the girl.

Not just any girl.

That girl.

His girl.

Michael's heart somersaulted as he watched her running carelessly across the field toward her teammate. He took note of the fact that he always saw her trying to help the others. But within a few moments he snapped out of his reverie, the unusual and euphoric feeling of excitement budding up within him, his legs carrying him faster and faster, closer and closer to the human which he had been nearly dying to see.

Michael reached the hook only a second after she did, and he stood next to her as she reached up and lifted Jake from the hook. In the fleeting moment that passed, the girl noticed him and he watched in what felt like slow motion as a flurry of emotions crossed over her face: realization, terror, and finally, what looked like hope. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open... like she was almost happy to see him.

That is, until his knife came down on her, slashing her cheek as she had not expected him to stab her, considering he had avoided doing so the last time she'd seen him. She screamed wildly and sprinted forward without a second thought, throwing glances over her shoulder to see if he was following; which he was.

"Why?" she screamed in terror as he chased her through the forest, and into a decrepit building that was in shambles. She turned a corner as quickly as her injured body would allow, which was a mistake, as that tiny moment of time allowed Michael the chance to reach out again with his blade, slashing her back and tearing her shirt, where blood immediately began to spurt from the open gash and staining the shirt above it. She fell to the ground, weeping. He stood above her, staring her down, taking a few moments to consider what should happen next.

The Entity was very clear that this process required a bit of focus, skill, and luck. If he should fail this time, who knows how long it could be before he would see her again, and his plan would be postponed for a second time. He couldn't bare the thought.

Michael stooped down, wrapping his large hands around her waist, picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder. He noticed that instead of struggling, her body was draped over him rather comfortably, almost as if she were relishing this moment and drinking up this feeling of being held by him.

That's impossible, Michael thought. She is probably just stupid.

Michael turned around, and was internally joyed to see the dark stairs to the basement were just in front of him. From the corner of his eye he noticed another survivor peeking in the doorway, drawn by the screams of its comrade and hoping to be of help, although unknowingly, it was helping the killer.

He walked a bit slowly down the stairs, considering that this girl was probably expecting to be thrown on the hook and murdered just like any other trial. But in reality, she was so very wrong.

He turned the corner and the dim, reddish glow enveloped the two beneath its demonic light, powered only by the evil which was generated within these hellish basements. Michael quite enjoyed it here, as the devilish quality of the environment only inspired him to be even more ruthless and evil.

But evil still had its limits, and its exceptions. And this girl was a lucky winner.

Instead of just dropping her to the floor, Michael stooped downward from his immense height, placing the girl on the ground quite tenderly, a gesture that was unheard of from the infamous Michael Myers. The girl stared at him in disbelief, clutching her arm as she rested up against the old wooden boards that made up the wall. Michael stared back at her, studying her face, and realized that her features actually quite tickled his fancy, in some way or another. Unlike some of the other survivors, she was quite appealing for him to look at, even when she wasn't drenched in blood; a sight he always loved to see.

And after a moment, he lifted himself up and turned again, just in time to notice a deep red locker door moving quietly closed.

Too easy, he thought to himself as he stalked up to the locker, wrenching open the doors, and was met face to face with Meg, whose eyes bulged wide with fear. She realized that she had made a terrible mistake.

And so, a few moments later, Michael was decorated with her blood as he redundantly tossed her body onto the Entity's hook. She cried out in pain, and he took a moment to watch her, his face inches from her own as she twisted and convulsed with agony. He held the tip of his knife to her face, considering for a moment if this was a moment to be celebrated with an extra slice of her skin, decorating her face with the macabre mark of Michael Myers.

But he didn't, for once again his focus shifted as he heard the girl behind him cry out, "Michael, don't!"

He did not react or respond to her exclamation, and only stood motionless for another moment, before turning and stalking back up the basement stairs, in search of his next kill.