Welcome to Michael Jackson Imagines Vol. 3!
This is a book full of erotica and different AUs of Michael Jackson.
I hope you brought your holy beverage or food, you're probably gonna need A LOT.
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The night was eerily quiet—the kind of silence that pressed down on the land like a suffocating blanket, broken only by the occasional howl of the wind whipping through the dry brush. Yn tossed and turned beneath her thin blanket, unease gnawing at the edges of her mind. There was something wrong, something she couldn't place, but it hovered over her like a dark cloud, heavy and oppressive.
She sat up suddenly, heart pounding, and strained to listen beyond the wind's whistling. Then she heard it—the faint crackling of wood. Her eyes flew open, the acrid scent confirming her worst fear.
"No," she whispered, heart racing.
Her gaze darted toward the far corner of the cabin. Flames flickered in the dim light, snaking their way up the wooden walls, greedily devouring the old curtains that hung limply by the window. The fire was spreading fast, too fast. The cabin, which had once been her safe haven, was quickly becoming a death trap.
Her pulse quickened, a knot forming in her throat as she stumbled out of bed. She was dressed only in a thin nightgown, her feet bare against the wooden floor. There was no time to think. She bolted toward the door, but it didn't budge. Panic shot through her veins as she slammed her shoulder into it again and again.
"Dammit!" she cursed, her voice trembling with desperation.
The fire crackled louder, creeping closer. Her supernatural strength—strength that could snap bones and tear through flesh—was no match for the reinforced door. The realization hit her like a blow.
Someone had set her cabin on fire. Someone wanted her dead.
Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps as she spun around, her eyes darting across the small room. She needed a way out—now. The flames were already licking at the ceiling, consuming everything in their path.
The cabin walls creaked and groaned under the weight of the growing flames, the heat now unbearable as smoke filled Yn's lungs, stinging her eyes and making it hard to see. Every breath felt like swallowing fire, her body slick with sweat as she desperately searched for an escape. Her gaze landed on the heavy wooden chair near the window. With no time to waste, she seized it, muscles trembling from exhaustion, and hurled it toward the glass with all the strength she had left.
The window shattered with a deafening crash, shards of glass exploding outward into the cold night. The icy wind that rushed in was a sharp and sudden contrast to the sweltering heat, but she didn't hesitate. With a burst of adrenaline, she lunged toward the broken window, ignoring the sting of glass slicing into her arms and legs as she hoisted herself through the jagged frame. A sharp edge caught her thigh, tearing into her flesh. She gasped in pain but grit her teeth, refusing to stop. Blood soaked into her ripped nightgown, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin.
