Michael Myers: Final Girl

Rest In Peace

She knew exactly where to find Scarlett. She had caught him there a few times when he would disappear for days on end. The glow of The Rabbit in Red Lounge came into view. She put the car in park and made herself comfortable. Sitting in the parking lot brought back and onslaught of less than pleasant memories. She had followed him here before many a time. He had never left with the same woman twice until one night in particular. She was tall, thin with a very wispy figure. Her long legs were usually adorned with fishnet tights under a short skirt or dress that clung tightly to her body. Her hair was long, bright red and it framed her gaunt features in what (Y/n) always thought was an unflattering way. He clearly hadn't had the same opinion. Money disappeared and coincidentally her bare neck become covered in pearls, diamonds or whatever she fancied. He preferred to lavish gifts on her instead of paying rent most times. To him, she was worth starving. (Y/n) let out a humorless laugh when she recalled how briefly she had experienced that Oscar worthy act he had performed when they had met. If what Scarlett was saying was true, that he had been so wonderful to her, then what had she herself done wrong to deserve such cruelty? All the time, energy, and love she had given was handed freely to someone else and kindly. It couldn't be true. She had to have been lying. (Y/n) herself knew there was a time she would have done anything to protect his image. So many lies had left her lips to friends and family to make sure he remained 'good'. Maybe it was to protect her own shame, to hide that she had been so weak and naive to invite whatever he was into her life. Still, she felt no sympathy for Scarlett. Perhaps it had been building long before any of this had happened, before he died. Scarlett was just a vessel. In her she had and always would see each and every face she never could be sure was beneath him all those nights. She was every infidelity. She was every infection he had given her. She was every beating, every insult, every hurtful thing he had ever done to her. She was him.

The door to the lounge opened and forcefully pulled her out of her thoughts. She realized she had been there for quite awhile, it seemed to be closing. A few stragglers stumbled out. She was about to lose hope until she saw her familiar form. She was hanging on one of the men that had tumbled through the door. For someone who was riddled with grief, she looked to be quite happy. (Y/n) scoffed as she watched the man push her up against the concrete walls and hide his face in her bare neck. Scarlett threw her head back, a smug grin on her face as her choice for the night ran his hand up her bare leg. The lust in her eyes was sickening. In a way, it was like watching what they had done together while (Y/n) was home alone or in a hospital bed. She hadn't noticed her grip had tightened around the steering wheel until the tips of her fingernails began to dig into the flesh of her palms. The woman pushed the drunkard off of her.

"Not tonight," she said as she adjusted her skirt.

"Come on babe," he said as he moved towards her again.

She smirked, but brushed him off. He was left pouting on the empty sidewalk as she glided over to her car. (Y/n) lowered her head below the steering wheel, but made sure to check which car she would be following. The lights on a red sedan flashed on. Red. Of course. Easy. The taillights began to veer off into the night and the Oldsmobile followed just far enough behind to avoid attracting the woman's attention. It wasn't too far of a drive before they came upon a small house. It wasn't too far off from where (Y/n) had previously lived. That made her livid. She was glad of it, it would only make this more enjoyable. The garage opened and the sedan disappeared into it and parked. She shut the Oldsmobile off quick as possible and walked towards the house as the garage began to close. She slipped underneath just before it touched the ground. It was dark, she had clearly already gone inside. She slowly found her way past the parked car and to the door. Her heart beat faster when her fingers found the handle. There was a possibility this would be her final act. Part of her wondered if Michael would kill her for what she was about to do. Most of her didn't care. Behind that door lay what would be justice. Justice for every sick thing she had been forced to endure. If he couldn't forgive her, so be it. If he killed her, good. She knew she would deserve death after this and she would gladly embrace it at his hands.