Only Me

Found You...

Once Michael had recovered from his first ever mental breakdown, he was more determined than ever to hunt you down and make you pay for what you had done. He wouldn't kill you, oh no. No, no, no, no, NO! No, Michael wouldn't kill you. He knows now that he can't live without you. He'll make you understand that you belong with him and him alone, and that the two of you would be together forever.

With a little snooping, Michael had learned that you hadn't completely skipped town. Yes, you took all your most important things, but it seems it was a momentary precaution. You left with only three days worth of clothing and some, not all, of the money you had stashed away. You wouldn't leave all of your belongings behind and not come back to get them, but Michael doesn't think he can stand to wait and see. Just as he was becoming increasingly frustrated with your absence, he heard it.

RING RING RING!

Michael instantly recognized it. You had left your phone. Of all things you could have left behind, that was perhaps one of the worst things you could have forgotten. Well, for you, that is. For Michael, however... He strides over to the kitchen, grabbing it off the counter. Looking at the caller I.D., he's pretty sure it's one of your female friends. He doesn't hesitate to answer it, silently holding it to his ear.

"Y/N? Y/N?! Is that you?! I've been trying to reach you for hours! Did you get to the motel okay? Did you have any trouble checki-"

CLICK!

That was all he needed to hear. He knows exactly where you are. You didn't even run that far away, just to the outskirts of town, to a shitty, run-down, roach infested motel that's less than forty bucks a night. Michael tightens his grip on your phone. All this time, you were so close. You haven't even left town...

Hairline fractures spider web across your phone's screen. You haven't left town, but you thought Michael was stupid enough not to find you. You thought you could get away that easily..? You really thought so little of him? Michael's hand stung where broken glass bit into the palm of his hand. Warm blood seeped out from his white knuckled fists and onto the tiled floor. You don't realize just how much you fucked up. You want to get away from him? You should have never stopped running...

What should have been a nearly forty minute jog took Michael less than fifteen minutes to complete. He's never pushed himself so hard before, but he can't stop. Not when your so fucking close. It was insultingly easy to figure out what room you were in, and he didn't even have to kill anyone to get what he needed. The front desk was empty, and after glancing over the check in book, he found out that you were in room 107, and that there was no one else that was checked in around you. Perfect.

Snatching a spare key to your room, he quickly makes his way to your room, not stopping for anything. It's some kind of miracle that no one was anywhere near you, because if they were? They'd be paste on the asphalt when Michael was done with them. But you're all alone, and there won't be anyone there to hear you scream... Michael didn't wait to shove the key into the lock and to throw open the door. You didn't even lock the deadbolt. Are you an idiot or something? Or maybe... You didn't really want to leave him...

Michael's heart jumped up into his throat as he entered the motel room. He nearly flew off the handle when he didn't immediately see you or hear you freaking out, but calmed significantly when he heard the shower running. As he takes a step towards the bathroom, he stops. He turns on his heel and locks the door, including the deadbolt that you had so graciously forgotten earlier. You aren't going anywhere, little mouse...