The Depression Of Repression (Michael Myers X OC)

Chapter 3- Chained Up...

"The only thing to fear, is fear himself."   

~ Freddy Kreuger

CARLISLE'S POV

Something really stupid jumped out of me, and I didn't know where it came from. I looked straight at the man in the white mask, who was staring angrily at my wrist that he'd have to repair, and said; "M-M-Michael? M-Michael Myers?" His head suddenly snapped up, and I got a good look at his dark, threatening eyes. They were an odd color of brown. Somewhere between black and chocolate colored, his dark orbs were expressionless, but I could tell that he was angry with me. He did something that surprised me a bit by slowly tilting his head to the left. It was as if he were saying 'What?'. A creepy action, no doubt... But what could you expect from him? He was most certainly a strange man, so I really didn't know what he would do at this point.

"T-that's you?" I didn't really expect him to respond,but again, he surprised me by nodding. "I wasn't trying to escape. I-It's just that.. The restraints were cutting i-into my wrists." I was panicking when he didn't move whatsoever. Then, after a moment he stood and spun on his heel, leaving the room. I let out a long breath that I didn't know I was holding a moment after he'd shut the door. His presence made me get all tense and panicky. That's probably why I blurted out his name earlier. I just shut my eyes and allowed myself to drift into sleep... Something that was probably a little inappropriate and foolish at the time, but very much needed...

And I was greeted with pure darkness at first. That was until someone whisper-yelled in my ear, the word; "Samhain!" And then a symbol that resembled a 'P' flashed before my eyes. It felt like I'd seen that symbol somewhere before, but where? Then I saw something extremely disturbing. A young boy putting on a clown costume. I could see through his eyes as he approached a white door. Swinging it open, he walked towards a naked young woman sitting in front of a mirror, and pulled a knife out of the pocket in his costume, stabbing her till she stopped screaming. Then that symbol flashed before my eyes again and--

"Mmmph!" I woke up with duct tape over my mouth. I must've been screaming in my sleep....

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THIRD PERSON POV

Carlisle woke up to realize that Michael  had stitched up her wrists and ankles, and she now was being tied down with ripped cloth and duct tape instead of dirty chains. Then, the sensation of the tape being torn away from her mouth was greeted with the sight of her captor. He was standing beside her and staring at her as she slowly calmed back down. A brave girl, no doubt, but she was still being held captive... And she was still scared. Her auburn, long hair that went to her upper-back was spread around her head like a shiny, brown sun. Mahogany eyes, bulging with fear, she stared up at the dark holes in Michael's ghostly mask. The orange candlelight danced over the pale, rubber features and crazy artificial hair. He was holding a kitchen knife in his hand and was staring down at the young woman curiously. Her pale form was shaking with fear, not only because of the knife in Michael's hand, but the nightmare that just occurred. 

Yet again, Michael gripped her arm below the wrist, but this time he held his cold metal knife close to her skin. To share the curse, to spread the malicious power of Thorn. But, she didn't do what he expected her to do, she didn't scream or struggle. She squeezed her eyes shut and with Carlisle's voice just above a whisper, said: "Please, make it quick." ' Make it quick? ' Michael thought to himself. Then he realized that she thought he'd slice her wrist to kill her... And even worse, she didn't mind.

Meanwhile, as Michael was struggling with his thoughts, Carlisle closed her large eyes, figuring that this would be the last time that her lids and thick black lashes covered them from the rest of the world. She waited for him to slice her wrist, hoping he'd cut her quickly and deeply so that it wouldn't take so long to bleed out. But moments later, she realized that the blow to her thin-skinned wrist never came... Instead, she felt Michael Myer's rough hand slip away from her arm, along with the man himself as he disappeared from the room.

' What the hell just happened? ' Carlisle wondered, noticing how Michael seemed angry when he left.... But... Why? Carlisle should've been his easiest kill yet. But here she was, alive and wondering why that was the case. She knew he was unpredictable, deadly, and underestimated, but never was he the type to shy away from bloodshed. Maybe he'd come back and finish her off in the morning? Honestly, Carlisle didn't want to live anymore. She lost her best friend, being help captive and tortured. It was pretty likely that no one noticed the antisocial young woman's disappearance. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that. She was quiet and almost ghostly because she rarely left her house. That's just part of the deal with being antisocial.

But she had to push these thoughts aside and try to sleep. After all, it was late and all the stress she'd experienced today made her want to go into a coma. It was far too much for the traumatized young lady. And maybe she'd have that nightmare again. If she did, there was a chance that Carlisle could begin to piece things together. This puzzle that lay before her was in need of solving, and it wasn't gonna solve itself. Sleep got ahold of Carlisle a few hours later, and her dream was the same. Where had she seen that symbol?! The question really bothered her. It felt like the thought itself was trying to lead her towards answers. This was no nightmare, it was a vision, and she realized that now.

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Lifting her heavy lids, things slowly came into focus for Carlisle. She looked up to see that same old ceiling and some light bleeding through the fabric covering the windows. An orange and pink light spilling over the dull walls. She suddenly realized that there was a weight beside her calf. Something firm and un-moving. Forcing the sleep from her eyes, Carlisle lowered her head to see that Michael Myers was sitting on the bed, watching her... 'Creepy...' She thought to herself, forcing the fear away. She didn't want to annoy her silent captor, so she decided not to get on his bad side and attempt to relax.

But what she didn't know, was that Michael himself didn't understand why he didn't kill her. He didn't curse her with the mark of Thorn either. And last night he snuck back into the room, and got a good look at his captive. He took in her athletic build, her slim waist and small breasts. Her broad shoulders and smooth, pale skin. Those freckles that sprinkled her small nose. Her long, thick, black lashes and large eyelids to cover those large eyes of hers. Her thin, peach colored lips that waved up and down, a bit like a roller coaster. Her captivating high cheek bones and sharp jawline. But one feature that seemed to really catch his attention was her wavy auburn hair that went to her upper back. It was shiny and seemed to sway by just a simple breath.

Carlisle's hair shifted as she tilted her head in confusion to Michael's staring, revealing her rather small ears, that looked like they were pierced. It seemed that all of her facial features except her eyes were small, which made then stand out even more. But Michael tucked these thoughts away, angry that he couldn't kill her. Angry that he watched her sleep. Angry that he noticed the crescent moon shaped mole on her collar bone. And it was all her fault! He needed to kill something. Michael stormed out of the room and slammed the door, causing the poor girl to jump.

The pure rage and need for bloodshed filled Michael's mind, replacing any rational thought. But what would he kill? Rats, the vermin that seemed to adore the Myers house. Smashing a rat's skull with his boot, he realized killing twenty more people last night before coming back home to watch Carlisle didn't seem to work, so what would? 

What would stop this?