Once again, Mara found herself placed in the dark, dreary depths of some sort of cave. She shivered at the moist, chilly air surrounding her. But she didn't only shiver from the cold; she shivered from fear as she stood before Michael and the Entity, both who stared at her with expressions unreadable. She knew they were not happy.

"That performance was absolutely unacceptable," spoke the Entity, its nasty claws clicking in disdain. "Should this ever happen again, I will be sure that you regret it. Heed my words, mortal; Michael taking you under his wing is a blessing for you. I would suggest that you learn to accept this fact, or your next life will not be as good as this one."

Mara stayed silent in response, but nodded her head guiltily. She glanced to Michael who she knew was staring at her. What did that gaze say, beneath the expressionless mask? For the moment she couldn't tell, although she was sure it was nothing good.

They were released to meander about within this dark, dirty plane of existence. Mara wasn't surprised to see that the Entity allowed its killers to live in this shit hole. Compared to the woods the survivors sat around in while waiting for trials, this place was a dump. There wasn't much to look at, and nothing stimulating going on. The only option she had to entertain herself was to wander through these dreary cave-like hallways.

And so she did that, her mind full to the brim with nervousness, worry, and confusion. Her life had changed so much within this last period of time. She went from being a normal survivor, to a killer's pet, and then to a killer. All these changes had her so confused about who she was. She still wasn't sure of which side to plant her foot on, although she was slowly letting go of the survivor within her. From what she could tell, nothing would take this evil that now lay within her heart. And if she didn't act upon the Entity's wishes, it would definitely kill her, potentially banning her to a realm even worse than this one. Images of the scenes from the Divine Comedy sprang up within her brain; starved, lifeless bodies all stacked against each other, cramped together in hell. She shivered once again. That's a fate that she simply could not risk.

A male voice suddenly surprised her from her reverie. "Uh oh-oh, what do we have here?" She turned to her right to see two members of the Legion sat upon the ground, some disheveled mess of a card game spread out between them. The two stood up and she could see now who they were: Frank and Joey. Instincts kicked in and she nearly ran from them, before remembering she was considered one of them now.

"Hey," Joey said as he stepped closer to her. "I remember this girl…"

Mara stepped back as they approached, cautious as she knew she could not trust the two.

"Me too… that bitch is a survivor!" shouted Frank once he realized who he was looking at.

"Was a survivor," she responded pointedly, hoping that she didn't appear too scared. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

"Once a survivor, always a survivor," Joey sneered. The two men now stood directly in front of her, and she could feel that something was about to happen. Something bad. But she stood her ground, tense.

As with animals, she figured that if she ran now, they would immediately give chase. But if she stayed and held her ground, maybe they would leave her alone.

Joey crossed his arms before him and looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. "Alright then, miss Change of Heart. Show us what you've got."

She wasn't exactly sure she knew what he meant, but she felt like she had a good idea. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but I have no business with the likes of you." She took a step backward, still facing them. The sense of dread was growing in her belly now, and her fight or flight reflexes were kicking in. But still, she stood strong.

There was no response, and everything was silent for a moment. Until Frank lurched forward, his fingers finding her hair and yanking her toward him while Joe grabbed her arms from behind. She began to scream loudly, thrashing about and attempting to shake herself free. But they both had a tight hold on her. The three of them wrestled on the ground before finally Mara was laid on her back with not enough room to move. Joey's hands held her arms above her head while Frank straddled her legs together. The two men looked at each other for a moment above the struggling girl with a smirk that said they were up to no good. Mara's chest heaved up and down, up and down, her heart beating fast with adrenaline. She looked up at the murderers that hovered above her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she screamed, her voice sounding desperate and demonic.

Then Frank's hands found their way to the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up above her breasts, revealing the dark bra she had died in. Mara continued to thrash about. "Stop! Please, you fucking assholes!"

Joey laughed aloud at her exclamation. "Looks like we've got a fighter."

She struggled against the arms that held her down, pushing as hard as she could and baring her teeth. Finally a tear cascaded down her cheek as she began to realize her defeat.

I hate my fucking life.

Suddenly, a spurt of warm liquid splattered all over her face. Her eyes closed at the impact and flew back open again when she realized her hands had been let free. She sat up straight as quickly as she could and was face to face with Frank, the freak's hands still wrapped around her hips as he stared up past her head. But then he fell backward on his butt, scrambling farther away from her as he stared fearfully at something that loomed just behind her. She stood up and whipped around to face whatever was behind her to see Michael, bloodied knife in hand, towering above Joey who was struggling away below him. Joey clutched his chest where there appeared to be a large knife wound. She gasped as he stepped forward and she jumped out of the way in time for him to brush past her toward Frank. Frank sprang up from the ground deftly before abandoning his friend as he sprinted past Michael, nearly knocking Mara to the ground and causing her to stumble into the man who had just saved her from another awful scene of torture. She stared dumbfounded at the serial killer who stood before her, not moving an inch. A quiet, choked sob rose up into her chest and her mind crumpled in on itself. Without thinking, she dashed forward and out of the area they stood in. She bumped into Michael on her way past, whose arm was pushed back by the impact, and he turned to watch her leave.

Mara's anguished sobs echoed through the chambers of her newly discovered prison. She had run as far as she could, even passing a few other killers as she ran, but she did not stop until she felt she was far enough away that no one would easily find her. And so, she sat on the ground, head in hands, emotions crashing around her brain like waves that dizzied her and made her feel sick. Thoughts of everything bad about her life so far, from the memories of her painful death, her undefined relationship with Michael Myers, and suddenly being attacked and abused by those who were supposedly on her team now. At least as a survivor, she could rest in between trials and discuss things with the others. There was a camaraderie, some friendships, a sense of belonging. But now, she couldn't feel safe at all, surrounded by those who had induced her suffering for so long.

Except for Michael. Except for the control he had over her now, with his domineering, deep-rooted spirit that stirred things deep inside of her. This… monster that she should be scared of, that she is scared of, but craves to be around all the same. What he had done to her, and what he had done for her. He had plucked her from the last grasp of sanity that she had left, crushing it into a million pieces without a second thought. He'd handled her violently, mutilating her body many times, causing her mind-numbing amounts of physical pain. And there was the mental torture as well. The confusion. The grief. The loss. Every single thing she had experienced since that one fateful trial, on top of the hell her life had already become. All caused by him. But then there was the comfort of it, too. The comfort of his watchful eye that actually cared about her in some way that she couldn't understand yet. Knowing that through this torture and pain, he was still there to catch her at the end of the day. She was still bound to him through some hook that had been created inside herself. She felt some semblance of safety at the thought. She could feel it now, permeating.

As her puzzled thoughts continued to flounder over her feelings for Michael, her hands fell from her face and she drew herself to a stance. Her hands were now clutched at her sides, head hanging forward in defeat. Almost as if she were sleepwalking, her legs began to carry her forward. Slowly, step by step. Her thoughts were clouded but her vision was full of that masked face, and in her ear she could almost hear and feel his breaths coming out in hot waves over her neck and shoulder. Then his hands as they settled at the curves of her waist. Entranced, she wandered past the damp, ugly walls. She passed the same killers that she had before, who paid her no mind as she moved like a spirit about the place, until she found herself back where Michael stood, waiting for her.

Finally her head drew up and she looked at him tiredly. That cozy feeling of comfort wafted up within her and her heart sank somewhere within her chest. As if in a daze, she stumbled forward and threw her arms around the killer's neck. Her head rested drowsily against his firm chest and a few strands of her hair fell over her face. He stood there for a moment, simply feeling the girl's embrace. He could feel that she was not only leaning on him physically, but mentally as well. Never before had another's soul rested entwined with his, but at the moment, he did not mind and accepted the gesture as a compliment.

Then his arms reached down and he bent forward, scooping her up with his hands knotted beneath her butt. Her legs hoisted themselves naturally up around his waist as she gasped in surprise. He began to move to another side of the room, taking a seat and allowing her to sit in his lap facing him. Her left arm was still drawn up around his shoulder while her right hand was pressed lightly against his face. Their faces were so close that their noses were nearly touching.

Mara breathed out quietly, emotional tears stinging at her eyes. She stroked Michael's face slowly, searching for the words she wanted to say. She stared into his eyes as a tear fell from her own. "Thank you, Michael."

Her head fell forward and rested against his. She took a moment to calm herself, her emotions still running high. Michael thought back to the previous trial, when she had so hysterically ran up to him, cursing him and hating him for making her who she was now. And here she was, sitting in his lap, crying sweet thank yous in his ear. If he was a human, he'd have smiled. But he wasn't. Although that didn't keep him from enjoying the moment, relishing these feelings that he had never discovered before. He had never felt a bond like this one, not since he was a child and his mother loved him. It was groundbreaking for him.

He reached up with his hand, grasping Mara's face and pulling it forward. Her eyes closed as her lips met with his in a fervent embrace. She breathed in heavily through her nose, straightening up and pulling her body forward on Michael's lap. Her back straightened as she pressed her chest into his, her tongue snaking from her mouth and tasting Michael's. There was a sudden spark between them that jolted Mara's heart.

Michael's hand moved up to caress her waist and her hips as she moved them about on top of him. His fingers began to grasp at her skin, pulling at her hips as he was becoming inflamed with his feelings for her. She finally broke away from her kiss and sat up, nearly gasping with her forehead pressed to his. Both her arms wrapped around his neck now and his arms tightened possessively around her waist. They sat still for a moment, Mara searching desperately for the words she needed to say.

"I just don't understand this," she breathed, trying not to sob. She prayed he was listening and understanding. "I don't understand… you." She looked carefully, almost fearfully into his eyes. "This… bond that we have now."

He stared back at her for a moment before reaching a hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her forward for another kiss, but she dodged his lips and pulled backward again. Surprised, he allowed her to sit up and look at him with those innocent eyes once again.

"Talk to me Michael," she begged. "Please."

A moment passed before the voice rang clearly within her mind, deep and stern.

You don't need to understand.

She pouted visibly and her wide eyed beg nearly broke him.

He stood up quickly and Mara nearly tumbled from his lap, barely managing to steady herself against him as she came down. She found her balance and looked up at the man who was standing very close to her. His hands raised to clasp her face within them, steadying her and staring closely into her eyes. She screamed as demonic, evil sounds erupted within her ears and attempted to jump backward. She was suddenly filled with an intense fear, having caught a glimpse of the terrifying demon that was a part of his very being. Michael's arms encircled her again and she was held fast in place, trembling against him. The sounds faded within moments and she was no longer looking at the depravity that existed within him. But she had seen it. And it shook her on grounds that she couldn't describe.

And she was being held within its arms now. She shook within his grasp, too afraid to look back up into his eyes again.

Michael had not intended for her to see that side of him. But with tension running high in the air, evil was bound to eventually erupt into the physical world by means of its vessel. That is why she had become so frightened; a window had been pushed open and she'd accidentally caught a glimpse of his wicked soul. An evil strong enough to have her captured in its grasp with just a look.

And she was bound to it now. Although not as strong as his, evil lived within her too. She could feel it inside of her. Twisting and churning with excitement as she stood so close to a being so powerful as him. That hook within her gleaming and burning, empowered by the bond between them. She was merely an extension of his power. She was beginning to realize that, and beginning to like it.

Her mind was becoming cloudy again. His fingers brushed at her temples with a certain motion that had her thoughts twirling. She breathed a gust of air as she fell into a dreamy daze. She thought back to the last trial, remembering her long chase with Meg. She remembered the way she pleaded on top of her with every fiber of her being. And Meg had responded coldly. Cruelly.

FUCK YOU, BITCH!

Meg's words rang out distantly within Mara's mind and a fierce anger exploded within her. She was becoming overcome with rage, her eyes seeing red for the first time in her life. If I see that bitch one more time I swear to god I'm going to fucking mutilate her…

Her fingers were balled into fists, her nails biting into her skin. Her teeth ground back and forth. Michael's fingers continued to sway gently over her temple, looking down at her completely focused.

If it's the last thing I do, she's going to die by my hand. And it won't be quick.

"She's going to SUFFER!"

Michael stepped swiftly backward as the girl screamed those last words into his chest, and she quickly vanished into dark frays of a frothy black mist.