The Slayer Of Slashers || Marvel x Horror

3-9: Reasonably Freaked

Lucy hung up the phone, her heart sinking with disappointment. The restaurant had confirmed that Max was no longer there.

She sighed, glancing at the spilled milk carton on the floor next to the refrigerator.

With a weary expression, she grabbed a dish towel and began to mop up the mess, placing the ruptured carton on the counter.

As she cleaned, her eyes caught the picture of a missing child on the side of the carton, a stark reminder of the fragility of life.

Later, Lucy entered her bedroom, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on her.

Sam followed her, buttoning his pajamas. "Can I sleep in here with you tonight?" Sam asked, his voice tinged with fear.

"In here?" Lucy replied, surprised.

"Do you mind? It was a real scary comic," Sam admitted.

Lucy smiled softly. "Okay. Have you been eating pizza? You smell like garlic."

Outside, the night was still and quiet. All the lights at Grandpa's house were out, and a fantastic song began to play in the distance.

In the bedroom, Lucy and Sam slept soundly, but the distant sound of a motorbike driving off caused Sam's eyes to blink wide open.

Michael sped away on his motorbike, the wind whipping through his hair. As he approached a set of headlights, he decided to pull off the road and kill his engine.

Grandpa's pickup truck drove by, returning from the Widow Johnson's, with Grandpa singing merrily to himself.

Once Grandpa had passed, Michael roared off in the opposite direction, heading towards the boardwalk.

The attractions and booths were shut down for the night, and the place was deserted, save for the bonfires burning on the beaches.

The song continued to play, adding a haunting melody to the scene.

Michael arrived at the cliff where the lobby and cave were located. Finding no one there, he decided to enter the cave.

The place was eerily silent.

"Star?" Michael called out, his voice echoing off the walls.

There was no reply. He noticed an empty bottle of wine, the same "wine" he had drunk before.

He smelled the bottle and recoiled; it reeked of blood. In a fit of anger, he hurled the bottle across the lobby, where it shattered against the wall.

Images began to rush through Michael's mind: the motorbike rave-up on the beach, drinking blood from the wine bottle, the ear-piercing ritual, and the kiss with Star.

The trestle-hanging episode flashed before his eyes. As the images faded, Michael found himself standing in the far corner of the lobby, where something belonging to Star indicated that this was where she slept.

The song continued to play as Michael sat down on the bed, curling up and eventually falling asleep.

His dreams were filled with images of him and Star together, speeding along a moonlit beach, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist.

For a moment, Michael felt as happy as any young man could be.

Morning sunlight filtered through the trees as Michael drove up to Grandpa's house on his Honda.

The engine's hum faded as he approached the porch, where Lucy sat sipping her morning coffee.

"Hi," Lucy greeted him with a warm smile.