To Escape (Michael Myers Fanfic)

6

I let go of his arm as if it was hot coal, but it was too late. He had already stopped breathing and his body was so tense a bullet couldn't pierce him.

He turned towards me, malicious intent in his eyes. My heartbeat quickened as true fear filled my veins. Fear? It had been a long time since I felt real fear.

"Mikey," I said, keeping my voice strong, but my eyes betrayed my fear. Michael's intense gaze didn't leave me, and he took another step towards me.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I will not hesitate to gauge your pretty eyes out. I'm not a yet another helpless victim, I'm not afraid of blood." My words did definitely not make him stop. He seemed even angrier.

He stuck his hand out towards my throat at near-lightspeed, but some serial killer god seemed to have been watching over me, and I tripped on the edge of the carpet and fell back, narrowly avoiding his grasp.

I shot to my feet, heart beating wildly, and ran towards the kitchen hearing his footsteps behind me. He didn't run,he walked. He walked really, really fast.

I rummaged through the drawer and pulled out a big kitchen knife. I grinned and faced Michael, but my grin was gone instantly. He was wielding an even bigger knife. Where the hell did he get it?

"I see we're equally matched. Let's call this off and agree we both won," I said. Michael's rage-filled eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement for a split second, but he was back at hunting me the next.
I sighed.

Putting my own knife onto the counter, I stood up straight and faced him. He kept walking towards me and stopped when we were nearly touching, he looking down and me looking up. He was holding his knife in a position ready to stab me.

Seconds passed, and I was still alive.

"Will you listen to me and leave through the window?" I asked. He tightened his grip on the knife, and before I could even begin to regret being born, his other hand gripped my throat and slammed me into the wall.
I tried to peel his hand away as no air got to my lungs, my vision going blurry as I struggled.

Was he really going to kill me?

To answer my question, I could suddenly breathe again, and my body slumped against the floor. I watched him turn around and go through the door I told him not to go through, but I couldn't say anything to stop him.

Why was he suddenly such a piece of shit? I thought we were friends. A sense of betrayal entered my heart, a new wound opening up. He probably never cared about our friendship.

The old hag shrieked from downstairs, and I heard her panicked footsteps approaching my floor. I pulled myself to my feet and massaged my throat, pretending I was cleaning up my cereal as she burst in.

"TINAAA! WHO WAS THAT?" She yelled, almost making my ears bleed. I sent her a confused glare.

"Who was who?" I asked innocently, and she pointed towards the stairs.

"A man with a mask just walked out of your apartment!" she said, breathing heavily from having sprinted up the stairs. I raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about? I didn't see anyone. You saw that I walked in alone so you must've imagined it."

The woman's face went red and she shook her head.
"No, no, I know what I saw! We should call the police, he could have been a burglar! Or a killer!"

I rolled my eyes. "Sounds to me we should call the mental hospital instead."

The woman huffed, but seemed calmer. "On the topic of mental hospitals, did you hear that a dangerous patient escaped Smith's Grove? Another killer, can you believe it? My friend who works there told me about it, they didn't even release it to the public! He killed ten guards during his escape!"