Nothin' Worse Than The Devil

First Impression

Michael Myer's documentaries always seemed to catch your attention. The movies were just a corny skit that portrayed him in the most weirdest ways. His documentaries were well detailed and showed the real him. There was always that little voice in the back of your mind telling you how you wished he would escape one day.

Your alarm rang loudly in your ears. Struggling to find the button to turn it off, it fell to the floor. The time read 10:00 pm. You grumbled struggling to get out of bed. Turning off the alarm, you dragged yourself to the bathroom and brushed your teeth. Out of all the shifts you could have chose, you chose to work nightshift. You left your security outfit out the night before, so you quickly slid it on, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. You combed your hair, grabbed your hat and hopped into your vehicle. Smiths grove wasn't too far from your house. After all, you did live in a 2 story cabin in the middle of nowhere. In 15 minutes you arrived at the gate, scanned your badge and drove in. The building towered over you. It was such a sad place, discolored and quiet. You parked your car and stepped out, walking into the building the once quiet atmosphere was interrupted by the groans of patients itching to leave.

"Hey Rocky, same as usual I suppose?" You said plainly.

"Yeah, I see the patients are louder than usual."

"Ah, sorry you got to deal with that man. I'm just here to clock in as usual." You chuckled softly.

You headed over to clock in and noticed a box peaking out of one of the supply closets. Turning your head back to glance at rocky, who seemed to be getting comfortable for some nights rest, you reached for the door. It was a card board box that was labeled "DO NOT TOUCH" in bold letters. Obviously not following the label on the front, you opened the box. Gasping in surprise, his mask stared back at you. You cautiously grabbed for the mask, feeling as if it would jump out at you if you touched it wrong. The rough rubber felt cold against your skin. The sound of keys jingling and many sets of feet came through the halls. You quickly tucked the masked in your shirt and shut the door. You stood and turned to the sound, thankfully it was a set of three guards escorting a rather tall patient to a new room. We made eye contact as they walked by. He looked down at the outline in my shirt and back up at me until he was escorted around the corner. Realizing you were holding your breath, you let out a long exhale. Finally you clocked in and headed outside to the main entrance to keep watch. Everything was still, no wind to rustle through the trees, no birds to caw into the night, no squirrel to rustle through the bushes. The hours went by, feeling as if you were being watched. You looked around...nothing. You looked up at the tall building and noticed one of the patients looking down at you from their room on the 3rd floor. You couldn't make out what they looked like, the room was dark portraying just a black silhouette of the person. They slowly stepped away from the window, breaking eye contact. You erased it from your mind, thinking nothing of it. A few more minutes went by and out of nowhere the sirens surrounding the perimeter of the sanitarium started blaring. You panicked and started to look around. Without thinking you ran to your vehicle and struggled to get the keys into the ignition. Your car rumbled, and you drove out of the parking lot.

You arrived home, running into your house and slamming the door. You didn't realize how hard you were breathing until it was the only thing you could hear in your quiet kitchen. Resting your hands on the table, you took your hat off. You're definitely getting fired for bailing like that. After calming down, you headed up stairs to get out of your work clothes. After changing into a big t-shirt and new underwear you set the mask down on your bed, carefully examining it. There seemed to still be dried blood in the strands of the fake brown hair. You took it to the bathroom where you laid it in the sink. Grabbing the proxied, you applied it to the dried blood, watching it sizzle up. You let it sit for a few minutes before filling the sink up with hot water, washing the dirt in the seems of the mask off. For a second you thought you heard the front door downstairs open and you turned off the water. Waiting to hear another sound, but it grew silent. Tiptoeing to your light switch, you turned off the lights and carefully opened your door. You peaked out, praying you wouldn't see anything standing in the hallway. Nothing. You carefully stepped out of your room and cautiously stepped down the stairs trying not to make the wood creak. As you reached the kitchen, you glanced to the door. Your heart sunk to your stomach, your knees became weak as you noticed the door was cracked open. Did you forget to the lock the door? Questions started rushing through your head as you stood in the dark kitchen, the moonlight being the only thing illuminating the room. The realization kicked in that you weren't alone as you heard heavy breathing from behind you. You turned around, seeing a tall figure in the shadows. Before you even had the chance to scream the figure bolted for you, pinning you by the throat onto the wall. You choked out in agony, trying to speak. Struggling against its grip, you stopped as it spoke.

"I believe you have something of mine." He rasped.

Realization hit you. Michael. He was standing before you, but you couldn't make out what he looked like, darkness shielding his face. Holding back your tears, you struggled to point to the upstairs bedroom, as he followed your finger. He released his grip from your throat, dropping you to the ground. You hit the hardwood floor, impact not feeling too well on your tailbone. Wrapping your hand around your throat, you gasped for air. His loud footsteps crept up the stairs as he entered your room, turning the light on. You crawled up the stairs, following him in. You stood at the door, holding yourself up by the doorframe as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You heard something break, sounding like glass. You began rapidly explaining why you even had it in the first place.

"L-look I didn't mean to steal it, it was very dirty so I-I thought I would clean it for you and return it back to the sanitarium. I m-mean it was in very bad condition-"

You stopped as the knob to the door slowly began to turn. He stepped out, wearing his mask. The fake hair still soaked.

Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you worried what he was about to do next. He just stared at you, not saying a word. You stood yourself up straight, trying to not look afraid. But it was hard to keep your legs from shaking, he was at least a foot and a half taller than you. He started slowly walking towards you as you tried to choke back your tears. Okay now you definitely couldn't hide the fact you were scared. You inhaled sharply, trying to back up but tripped and landed on your ass. He kept walking towards you and you just sat there, accepting you were going to die. He stared down at you, tilting his head. As he crouched down to meet your eyes, you let in a short inhale. He took your cheek in his palm and slowly caroused your cheek, wiping the tear that streamed down your face. He scanned you, studying your every feature as you stared back at his expressionless mask. His hand trailed to your neck, grazing over the bruise he made. He let out a pitied sigh and stood up.

"Name." He said shortly.

You stared at him, startled that he chose to speak again.

"I- uhm-... y/n."

He wrapped one of his hands around your back, and one around your legs, lifting you up effortlessly. His hands were cold and rough against your skin, as he gripped slightly tighter before laying you on your bed. He stood back and glanced at you, giving a look that signaled he would be back eventually. The first place police enforcements would look are any buildings or houses that were close to the sanitarium. He left quickly, disappearing into the woods without a trace.