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token-08 · 8 days

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Battalia Bendetta Chapter 1 - Seeds of the Future

It was 7:14 AM, August 26th in SouthEast Yoyo City. Sunday Simms woke up with a yawn, before breaking into a wide grin. Today they finally were going to begin High School, and they were ecstatic to say the least. They got dressed, brushed their teeth, made some breakfast and left the house fully ready and in High-Schooler Mode™. They left in a run to try to get on campus in time. They hummed to themself as they dashed, mentally making plans to join clubs and make friends and-

Suddenly they were grabbed by their hood, jolting them backwards, nearly dropping them to the ground. “Ack-!” Before they can react to the tug a large truck whizzed past, blaring its horn at them loudly. It surely would have hit them had it not been for whoever pulled them back. They quickly spun around to see who their rescuer was. It was a girl, slightly shorter than them, sporting short, dark navy colored hair cut into a short bob that was longer in the front and shorter in the back. She wore a black graphic tee with a white sweater beneath. She wouldn’t have looked out of place at a punk concert. Sunday had surely never seen this girl before, but something about her face seemed so familiar. Could it be…?

“Hey Sunny. Sorry for the scare, but I couldn’t let you die before the first day even started.”

“Erika! You look so different now, I didn't even recognize you!”

Sunday wrapped their arms tightly around Erika, both in thanks for saving their life, and in joy of seeing their best friend again. Sunday and Erika had met in the fourth grade, and have been stuck like glue ever since, though they hadn’t seen each other at all during the latter half of their summer vacation as Sunday had been on a trip visiting their dad. If you were to ask them, they’d say they were made for each other. They had shared interests in going to parks and cafés, they both enjoyed hiking and playing video games together, and they shared a massive love for their favorite series, ‘Maiden Senshi.’ The two even supplemented the weak points that each other had. Sunday was the most friendly person you could ever meet, but they had a frequent tendency to do things without thinking about them all the way through (They had a ‘heart of gold but head of air,’ as Erika often remarked.) Erika, however, was extremely clever, especially academically, but her cold and blunt personality made making friends extremely difficult for her. Compounded with her struggle to understand what people were feeling, socialization was a struggle for Erika. Sunday would be helpless if not for Erika’s quick thinking getting them out of jams time and time again, and Erika likely would be all on her own without Sunny’s camaraderie and warmth. Together, they were a complementary pair.

Sunday finally released the prisoner from their Alcatrazean embrace and they began to idly chat on their way to school.

“So! What made you change up your style? It looks amazing!”

Erika enjoyed the sweet words before making her response. “I think I just wanted to wear something more unique. Something a bit more… like me, y’know?”

“Hehe, well it definitely suits you!”

Erika then suddenly remembered something that she was waiting to mention to her friend while she had the chance.

“I want to try to join the photography club.”

“Photography? Oh! That’s awesome! Remember back at the zoo when you took that really good hippo photo? That one that got featured on the Nature Channel!”

“You really remembered that? That was back in like fifth grade wasn’t it?”

“Of course I remember! It was awesome!” Sunday beamed at Erika, who couldn’t help but smile back.

Finally, the duo had arrived at the school. The building that they would be attending for the next three years. Up close, the building seemed so much larger and more intimidating than they could imagine. It was in part that they’d never been so close, with the other part being the fact that they were really here now. In high school. Sunday was about to make a remark to Erika, but when they turned to her she was already walking off.

“I can't be late, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Hey! You can’t just walk off like that!” Wailed Sunday, but Erika seemingly didn’t hear or didn’t care, leaving them alone and destitute in the large courtyard. They mourned for a moment, but figured that their clever friend did probably have a point about not being late. It was the first day after all, and they couldn't live with that kind of reputation for the rest of the year. Reluctantly, they entered the building and went in the direction of their class.

Sunday was placed in Class C, which was located on the second floor, as were the rest of the first years. The class stood fourth door down from the start of the hallway and was taught under the careful guidance of Ms. Leason. Sunday made sure to memorize all of this information so that they didn’t risk getting completely lost in the massive expanse of the building, something that happened to them more times in past schools than they would like to admit.

The first class was a relatively standard first-day-of-the-year protocol. The teacher introduced herself and then started calling students up alphabetically to do the same. Sunday listened attentively, trying to make a mental note of every person’s name and face. A stranger was just a friend you haven't met, after all! When it was finally their own turn they eagerly piped up and stood.

“My name is Sunday Simms! I went to Mela Junior High before I went here! I hope to make friends with you all!”

Ms. Leason nodded. “Thank you, Sunday. Next, Falon Spiel, please.”

A boy situated one desk forward and two desks left from Sunday rose. He dressed nicer than most other students, wearing a white dress shirt and a tie. His hair was dreaded and parted down the middle. These, by themselves, would be pretty average features. Maybe it was slightly strange that he was so dressed up compared to the rest of the student body, but Sunday figured that everyone had their own style. However, it wasn’t those traits that stood out; it was the white eyepatch he had wrapped around his head, covering his right eye. Immediately, Sunday’s mind went wild. What could have happened to him? Arrow? Acid? Axe attack? Probably not that last one, as there would probably be some kind of scar left. No scar left… Maybe it was fake? Although possible, that theory didn’t feel quite right either. Lost in thought, they almost completely missed him actually introducing himself. They shook themself from their wild imagination to listen. Perhaps he’d say something about his strange accessory.

“Hello everyone. My name is Falon Spiel. I also come from Mela Junior High. I’m pleased to make everyone’s acquaintance.” He bowed and closed his eye with a grin. Maybe he was winking? It was unclear, but obviously meant to appear playful, which was an odd contrast to his overly formal introduction. Sunday had already grown even more suspicious of their bizarre classmate. He also went to Mela? They didn't remember anyone like him, eye patch or not. He seemed completely unfamiliar. They really were trying to just pass over it, but they just couldn’t shake the strange feeling they got about him. He just seemed so… off. Eyepatch? ‘From the same school’ yet they didn’t know him? Was this guy a time traveler or something? No matter how hard they tried to eject the thoughts they just couldn’t get that weird guy out of their mind.

The rest of school went by in a flash. Or at least it felt like a flash to Sunday, who operated distractedly throughout the day. They had made several attempts to try to speak with their fishy classmate but it felt as if he had a posse doting on him at all times. Seemingly everyone in Class C wanted a piece of the mysterious Falon Spiel. Sunday walked out of the building at the end of the day, defeated and more focused on their classmate than their surroundings. They were preparing to wait for Erika, yet hadn’t realized that she was already waiting right in front of them. Their friend waved her hand in front of their face to break their daze.

“Sunny? You’re thinking. What's going on?” Sunday found the comment slightly funny, but they knew Erika well enough to know that she was being completely genuine with the inquiry. The two began their walk as Sunday responded.

“Nothing… Well, mostly nothing. Was there ever anyone at our old school named Falon Spiel? Black kid, dreads, about yay high?” They held their hand a couple inches above their head, as it was the best estimate they could give of his height without being able to get any closer to him.

“No, I don’t remember anyone named or looking like that. Why do you ask?”

“Because he was there today in class.. He was dressed up all fancy and was wearing an eyepatch. According to him, he also went to Mela.”

“An eyepatch? Why?”

“That’s what I was thinking! This guy has been on my mind all day but I didn’t have a chance to ask him anything because it’s like he has his own fan club!”

“That is all pretty strange… I suppose you just need to ask him when you get a chance, right?”

“Well, that’s what I was thinking today. But then I thought that it would be super weird if I just went up to this guy I’d never met and said ‘Hi! My name is Sunday! What’s the deal with the eye patch and why did you lie about going to my school?’”

Erika laughed. “I suppose that would be pretty weird. So, what’s your plan?”

Sunday put their head in their hands. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Erika sighed; she really should have expected that answer. She looked down the street they were walking past and spotted her house. “This is where I leave you to your own. Good luck with that whole Falon thing.”

It was now Sunday's turn to sigh at their friend. That girl really couldn’t stick around today it felt like. For a second time today, they were walking down the road, alone, lost in thought, though this time under different pretenses (but still making sure to look both ways before crossing). They walked the rest of the way home as fatigue began to set in. They weren’t sure whether to attribute it to the first day of school adrenaline wearing off or to how much they tried to think today, but they were spent. They entered their home expecting to see their mother waiting for them, as had become a usual for when they got home from school, but they didn’t see her anywhere. They did, however, spot a yellow sticky note stuck to the counter, and gave it a read.

“Felt ill and turned in early, ham and cheese in the fridge! - Mom”

They thought about having the sandwich, but decided that they’d save it for later. As for right now: they needed a power nap. After one quick rest they knew they’d be back to their hyper-energized self. They opened the door to their room to quickly nap and their eyes went wide.

Who is that in their room?

The small girl sat in Sunday’s chair. She didn’t appear fully grown, but also not quite like a child either. If they had to guess she may have been about 13 or 14 years old. Her skin was golden brown and her hair was white and flowing, as was the strangely elegant dress she wore. Her body was wrapped in many contour golden rings: A set on her ankles, a set on her wrists, one wrapped around her waist, and one wrapped around her head like a size-too-small halo. To call her unassuming would be a lie. But even with all the jewelry, nothing about her compared to her eyes. They were colored a bright platinum, and were as splendid as if they were actually glowing. Wait, were her eyes actually glowing? No, they couldn’t be… The eyes, or her face as a whole, rather, appeared unfeeling. The stranger was completely unbothered as the owner of the room she was intruding in analyzed her. Is she waiting for them? Who is this? Why is she here? What in the world is going on?

Finally, Sunday swallowed their fear and spoke to the mystery girl. “You… who are you? What are you doing here?”

“To give you the gift to protect, Sunday Simms.” The girl spoke very simply. Her voice was flat, as if she belonged here and that this was something they were meant to know. Her mannerisms of speech actually reminded Sunday of a younger Erika, that is to say it was as if she hadn’t quite figured out how to feel yet. On their friend it was quite funny and their parents had even found it cute. But on this stranger it seemed more unnerving than anything else.

“The… what? And you didn’t tell me who you are! Or how you got here!”

“My apologies. My name is Boast. A goddess long forgotten. I am the embodiment of energy, of victory, of adrenaline. When you feel your blood rush, when you get back up, when you punch and kick and give every fight your all, that is you feeling me. I have come here to give you a piece of my power. To give you a way to protect yourself and others from what is to come.”

The answers they received did little but open up a boundless list of new questions. A goddess? What is to come? What the hell is she talking about? Is this real?

“There’s no way… Is this a prank? If it is, it's not funny!”

“If you disbelieve me, then I implore you: try to remove one of my rings.” Boast held out an arm towards Sunday, wrist up, seemingly vulnerable, offering a golden ring. Cautiously, they lightly touched the ring to grab hold. But with only a light grazing of their finger on the jewelry, a terrible sensation blazed through their hand. The ring wasn’t hot. If anything, the metal was actually slightly cold. The feeling when they gripped it, though, it was as if it were burning. They recoiled from the painful touch before dubiously bracing themself to reach for it again, but Boast put up a hand to signify for them to stop.

“I advise you to not try that again. These are the Rings of Binding. Forged by the gods to inhibit. I am fortunate to be strong enough to bear the burden, but to a human they could prove themselves fatal.”

“But why did they put them on you? You seem…” They analyzed the goddess’ appearance before finishing the thought. “Harmless.”

For the first time, Boast paused for a moment before responding. She held her finger and thumb to her chin, looked to the ground, and pursed her lips in deep thought. In that moment, and for only that moment, she really did resemble a child.

Boast raised her head again. “Have you heard the story of Prometheus? It is an ancient tale, originating from Greece. It’s the story of a god who brought fire from the heavens to mankind, and was reprimanded for it with terrible punishment.”

“Are you trying to say that you’re like him? What did you do then?”

“I gave you, humans, a palette for victory. The taste for more. I am why humans summited Everest. Why they crossed the seas, why they placed a flag on the moon. The gods find your ambition blasphemous. I view it as the missing piece you needed to be whole.”

Sunday was taken aback by this. This girl, this small and inconspicuous girl sitting in their desk chair, was the arbiter of drive and want and ambition in all of mankind. As this sunk in, they decided that they finally, finally, were beginning to trust her. They felt that finally, finally, they were ready to listen.

“Okay. What do you need from me?”

“There soon will be monsters that walk this earth. I am going to give you a piece of me. With this piece you will be stronger, faster, and more vigorous. Additionally, there will be an unforeseen side effect.” Sunday made a face of worry at that comment. ‘Unforeseen side effects’ are typically not a good thing.

Boast noticed their expression and elaborated. “Worry not, they are not harmful. Quite the contrary in fact. My power will reflect in your soul like a prism, and in doing so unlock abilities that represent what you are inside your heart.”

Sunday’s tension turned to intrigue. Abilities that reflect who they were inside? What would they say about them?

Boast continued, “It is with this very power that you will take on the beasts of corruption, known as Pollutions. As you foster this power, you shall grow stronger. And since the power you hold is a piece of me, as will I. With enough time and growth, I eventually should accumulate enough power to break free of these Binding Rings and finally purify the world completely of the Pollutions. That objective is our ultimate goal.”

Sunday nodded. Despite the lengthy explanation the plan seemed deceptively simple. Borrow her power, fight the bad guys, give it back, she gets rid of them for good. They could do this. It seemed easy peasy, right?

“Okay then. I’m ready. How do we do this?”

“It’s quite simple. Lie down.” Sunday did as told, lying down on their bed and Boast, careful not to let Sunday touch any of her Rings, rose from her seat in Sunday’s chair and placed both her hands in the center of Sunday’s abdomen, as if she were about to give the mortal CPR.

“Now. I am going to channel my energy throughout you. This will take a lot from you. Are you prepared?”

They nodded and closed their eyes, nerves beginning to rise. They felt the goddess press down and start quietly chanting in a language they were struggling to place. Italian maybe? Likely some grandfather language to it, though that was unimportant.

When Boast said it would take a lot from them, they assumed she meant that it would be strenuous, or painful like when they attempted to touch the Binding Ring, but it resembled neither.ather, it was more like being given anesthesia at the doctor. They forced their eyes open in an attempt to stay awake a second longer during the process, but a second was all they were gifted. The last thing they were able to recall before finally fading into sleep was the glow of the Boast's pale eyes in their fading room.

And then there was nothing.

#original w #original writing #stor #urban #Battalia Bendetta

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jurassicsickfics · 9 months

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5, F, and 😣

I can’t decide on the sickie/caretaker soooo author’s choice! (I love your writing btw :D)

I’m thinking maybe Sickie ate something that upset their stomach before having to go to a college lecture. They don’t think much of it; some gurgles here and there, but nothing too noticeable… until they have to start muffling nauseous burps, which draws the attention of Caretaker and a few other students. Comfort ensues🥰

Sure! Hope you enjoy!

Quick disclaimer that I know a few of these characters died before college but we're just gonna pretend they didn't for this fic. Lol.

Lynda knew good and well that she shouldn't have eaten those eggs for breakfast this morning. Without fail, eggs always made her sick to her stomach, and yet, because she was in a rush and they were the first thing she could grab out of the fridge, she ate them anyway. She had barely even arrived at campus before her belly was feeling bloated and bubbly. She didn't think much of it, in fact, being the preppy cheerleader that she was, her biggest concern was how she was going to keep from burping or farting during class. Little did she know, she'd soon be longing for the days of simple embarrassing gas.

As Lynda made her way to her usual spot in class, her boyfriend, Bob, caught her attention.

"Mornin' babe." She cood, giving Bob a kiss on the cheek. He smirked and said, "There's my darling baby." The two giggled in that silly was that young lovers do as they sat in side-by-side desks. The two talked, waiting for their professor to make an appearance, (she was always late), and, suddenly, Lynda's stomach contributed a loud gurgle to the conversation. Bob stopped mid sentence. "Was that your stomach??" He asked. Lynda's cheeks lit up in an embarrassed blush. "Y-yeah, it was..." she answered sheepishly.

Bob gave the blond a concerned look. "You feel ok? Your stomach isn't usually that vocal."

Lynda shrugged. "Yeah. I'm ok. I just...ate eggs this morning, that's all."

Bob sighed deeply. "Lyn, you know eggs make you sick. Why'd you do that?"

Lynda gave an embarrassed shrug. "I dunno...I'm an idiot I guess. But...it'll be fine, I'm sure..."

Laurie and Annie had come sprinting in seconds before they would've been considered late. They sat in the desks near Lynda and Bob, and the 4 young adults greeted each other quietly as the lecture began.

They were only 25 minutes into the excruciatingly boring lecture when Bob began to notice Lynda squirming uncomfortably in her seat. She rubbed her belly when she thought no one was looking, and occasionally burping as quietly as possible into her fist. Laurie, who was sitting next to her on the other side, mouthed, "you ok?", as she noticed too.

Lynda lied with a nod of her head, and tried to take a deep breath. She could barely even get the air in, though, because her belly felt so ridiculously full. She'd never felt so bloated in her life.

Within another few minutes, she was ready to throw in the towel on touching it out. She was so nauseous she thought for sure she was going to throw up. She didn't even mind the thought, actually. In fact, a good puke sounded like it'd make her feel better right about now. Now to work up the courage to tell Bob she wasn't feeling well.

She nudged his leg with her foot, and the curly haired boy turned to her. He gave her a look that said, "What is it?" Lynda scooted closer and whispered in his ear, "My stomach hurts...I need a belly rub...please..."

Bob, being the sweet and caring guy he was, was quick to oblige. He scooted as close to Lynda as he could, now more thankful than ever that the classroom's desks were so close together, and began to massage circles into her stomach. The cheerleader gave a soft, pained moan and buried her face in her boyfriend's shoulder, burping into his shirt.

This was a red flag for Bob; Lynda never allowed herself to burp out loud like that, unless she felt terrible.

As Lynda cuddled up to Bob, she suddenly felt Laurie's hand patting her back. "I told you not to eat eggs anymore..." Laurie murmured. Lynda's eyes widened and she turned around to look at Laurie. "How...how'd you know?" Laurie shrugged with a sympathetic smile. "Well, eggs are about the only thing that makes you sick like this, so..." she replied in a whisper. Lynda nodded in agreement; Laurie certainly had a point.

It was then that Annie noticed the commotion. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Lyn's got an upset stomach. " Came Bob's hushed reply. Annie gave a sympathetic click of her tongue and began to run her fingers through Lynda's silky, blonde hair.

Between burping and breathing through cramps, a thought occurred to Lynda.

"Well...obviously feeling sick in class isn't ideal...but being pampered by my awesome friends and boyfriend certainly does help..."

#sicknario #sickfic #upset stomach #stomach ache #belly ache #annie brackett #lynda van der klok #bob simms #laurie strode #halloween 1978

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kwebtv · 1 month

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Susie Q - Disney Channel / Super RTL - October 3, 1996

Fantasy Comedy

Running Time: 90 minutes

Stars:

Amy Jo Johnson as Susie Q / Maggie

Ernie Prentice as Grandfather

Bentley Mitchum as Johnny Angel

Tasha Simms as Betsy Quinn

Allan Morgan as Russell Quinn

Shelley Long as Penny Sands

Justin Whalin as Zach Sands

Andrea Libman as Teri Sands

Garwin Sanford as Coach Stanford

Chris William Martin as Ray Kovich

Dale Wilson as Roger Kovich

Winston Brown as Brad

Sabrina Byrne as Rebecca Bahner

Mark Schooley as Telephone Repairman

Lloyd Berry as Al the Janitor

Benjamin Ratner as TV Director

Laura Harris as Jannete

Kirsten Robek as Production Assistant

Pat Waldron as Miss Crosby

David Kaye as Don Tanner

Walter Marsh as Old Man - ATM

Will Sasso as Officer Bob

Allan Franz as Rookie Cop

John Johnston as Announcer

Carolyn Spielmacher as Girl

Brian Arnold as James McGlockton

Rebecca Toolan as Mrs. Perkins

Aaron Pearl as Player

Cameron Labine as Thug

#Susie Q #TV #Disney Channel #1999 #1990's #Fantasy #Comedy #Justin Whalin #Amy Jo Johnson #Shelley Long #Andrea Libman #Garwin Sanford #Chris Martin #Bentley Mitchum

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slashersgirlypop · 1 year

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Grilled Cheese Chapter 7

(September 1, 1978)

After yesterday, the masked man simply ignored me for the rest of the day until he was hungry and silently demanded me to make him food. After I did, he forced me into my room and locked me in. He only opened the door to let in Miss Petunia. The sun had sunk and glancing at the clock I saw it was six at night. I was currently laying on the floor on my stomach with Miss Petunia, softly brushing her fur.

I had managed to find some lotion in my room and gingerly walked to the mirror. Uncovering my bruised bottom, I hissed at the pain of the fabric lightly dragging over the welts. Looking in the mirror, my lip wobbled.

My (Y/S/C) skin was covered in dark red and blue hand-shaped welts, purple welts dotting the skin. Lightly brushing my hand over the marks, I hissed. It hurt so bad. Yes, I have had spankings before as a child, but then it was only a light pop, not a beating. Squeezing out some lotion, I gently applied it over the marks.

After, I put on a pair of loose sleep shorts. Then, I sat down on my bed, wincing in pain as I pressed my weight slowly down to sit.

Thankfully, I had a TV in my room that I found at a yard sale. I switched on the television, turning the volume down as I switched it to the news.

“Tonight, we will be covering the tragic deaths of teens Annie Brackett, Bob Simms, and Lynda Van Der Klok, murdered by escaped Haddonfield Penitentiary patient Michael Myers. One teen, Laurie Strode, had managed to evade the brutal hands of this killer, but not without gaining injuries. Ms. Bracket was found in the master bedroom of the Wallace residence, stabbed and strangled. Mr. Simms was also found in the bedroom, sharing the fate of being stabbed. Ms. Van der Klok’s body was found in the dumbwaiter, signs of asphyxiation being her cause of death. Before Ms. Strode was killed, Dr. Samuel Loomis had arrived on the scene and shot the offender multiple times. Michael Myers unfortunately had managed to escape before authorities could apprehend him. According to Ms. Strode and Dr. Loomis, Michael was last seen wearing a blue mechanic’s outfit, along with a stolen ‘Captain Kirk’ mask. Authorities say to dial 911 if you suspect you have seen this felon. Now, we would like to shift your attention to…” I had stopped listening after “stolen mask.” Holy shit, so I was right.

Mask-Man, er, Michael Myers, had killed someone. Rather, three teens. But why those teens? Was it simply bad place, bad time? Or was there a purpose?

I jumped as I heard the heavy chest blocking my door begin to move. I quickly switched off the television, laying back onto the bed and pretending to sleep. My heart raced in my chest as I heard the door open slowly, along with the slow steps on the creaky floorboards of my room. The steps stopped right in front of where I slept. Staying silent, I took slow breaths, hoping that he would think I was just sleeping as I heard him place something on my bedside table.

I forced myself to stay still as I felt him touch my side, right above my hip. I let him roll me over, my back now facing him. It took everything in me not to react as I felt him probe my ass, being surprisingly gentle. Then, he lifted the hem at the bottom of my shorts, and I felt rough calloused fingers grazing over my bruises, almost curiously. His touch neared more personal areas and I rolled over, pretending to toss and turn. He retracted his hands. All I could hear was heavy breathing. Then, I heard him turn around and walk out the door, closing it behind him. I heard the chest being dragged back in front of the door, and I breathed, relieved and terrified. I clasped my hand over my mouth, shaking in my bed. I looked over my shoulder, curious of what he placed on the table.

It was some pain medicine, along with a piece of Halloween candy.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪

The next morning, I was startled awake by the sound of the chest being dragged from my door, before the door opened slowly, revealing Michael.

We just stared at each other, not saying a word.

“Hi?” I asked, confused on what to do. I mean, he seemed to tolerate me, unless I tried to hurt him or run away. Considering he is mentally ill serial killer, I felt like the best path would be to play along, be a good hostage, and try not to piss him off.

“Are you hungry?” He remained silent, only moving aside. I nodded, understanding what he wanted.

“May I get a shower and get dressed first please?” I asked. He said nothing, his gaze focused on me. Seeing that he didn’t force me out of the room and into the kitchen, I will take that as a yes. Grabbing some clean clothes from my dresser, I laid them on my bed. Then, I took some underwear from my drawer, taking it with me into my bathroom that was connected to my room. I closed the door, cursing the fact it had no locks on it. Hopefully, the mentally ill man had enough decency to not come in.

As I was rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, I heard a loud thud downstairs, along with a few bangs before silence. Poking my head out of the shower, I listened harder, but heard nothing.

Maybe he dropped something on the carpet? I shrugged, continuing to bathe myself.

I threw on my clothes after the shower, thankful that he left the room so I may get dressed. As I pulled on my pant legs, I heard a scratching at the door, along with a small “mew?” I opened the door a crack and let Miss Petunia slip through.

“Hi pretty baby kitty how are you this morning?” I cooed, leaning down to scratch her head. She chirped, blinking slowly at me. I squinted as I took note of her chin.

Was that…blood?

Thinking back to what I heard earlier, I thought to myself ‘Oh shit.’

Rushing to my dresser, I grabbed some socks. I hopped, trying to quickly pull them on without tripping. I ran downstairs, afraid and hopeful of what I was to see. Hopeful that it was the police and that they got my captor, letting me return back to my normal life.

Turning the corner on the stairs, I gasped, my hand covering my mouth in shock.

On the floor, in a bloody mess, was my store’s assistant manager.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪

Sorry for a shorter chapter today. However, I did leave on a cliffhanger! I finally got home and unpacked after like two weeks of being with family and living out of a suitcase. not that I minded being with family, it just that living in a suitcase for so long makes me go stir crazy. bye bye, my fellow slasher sluts

#halloween 1978 #michael myers #slasher #yandere michael myers #yandere michael myers x reader #hostage reader #tw: noncon

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