The Depression Of Repression (Michael Myers X OC)

Chapter 8- Sleep Deprivation...

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Michael Myers and Carlisle just stared at each other for a little while. Not only was it uncomfortable for the young woman, but it was terrifying. He looked pissed at first, but then he started to look a bit calmer and watched carefully as Carlisle moved forward and carefully picked everything up. Standing up straight, she exited the bathroom and watched as he walked over to the door to her room. He stood beside it and stared at her, waiting patiently.

Carlisle supposed that he was waiting for her, so she nervously approached the door and twisted the knob. There was definitely a lock on the knob, but currently it was unlocked. She entered the room quickly and sat the pile of clothes on the table next to the spare bottles of water that Michael had stolen for her. Turning around, she watched as he entered the room after locking the door behind himself. He slowly lifted his arm from his side to point at the bed and Carlisle knew what he meant. They light was no longer entering through the blankets covering the windows. It was night time.

She slipped underneath the covers and laid down but Michael Myers didn't leave. Instead, he approached her bed and sat on the foot of the bed slowly. That stare made her remember how evil he was in case she'd forgotten. Her body tensed up and Carlisle got the strong feeling that he wasn't leaving any time soon. The girl tried to close her eyes but nothing happened. Even when she turned away, she could feel his eyes burning into the side of her face. 'Guess I'm not getting any shut-eye tonight...' Carlisle thought as she turned onto her back. And then she remembered that portrait she'd seen in the hallway.

"M-Michael?" His head slowly tilted. A habit of his that Carlisle was starting to get used to. "Were the people in the family portrait the ones that used to live here? The p-picture in the hallway..." The question may have seemed stupid, but she wanted to know. Those people were the ones from the Myers house, and if they lived here... she was in the Myers house! He seemed to tense up for a moment, but then he nodded slowly.

 "Shit." Carlisle didn't mean to say it aloud, but when she did her eyes went wide and she slapped a hand over her mouth. It wasn't her vulgarity that she worried about..ohhh no. It was Michael's reaction that worried her. The woman was pretty sure that she didn't want to piss off her crazy captor, who could (as Drake would put it) go zero to one hundred real quick. He just straightened his head and continued staring at her. ' Good, he's not mad...' Carlisle thought as she lifted her hand from her mouth and her eyelids closed over her eyes like they normally would.

Curiosity took over her mind, and with lack of sleep... her filter seemed to shrink. "How old are you?" She tilted her head with interest as Michael stood and walked over to a dresser. He pulled out the top left drawer and pulled something out. He took one long stride and stuck the bit of paper in her face. A newspaper clipping from the Myers house murder. The picture showed a young Michael Myers, and explained that at age six, he killed his sister Judith. It said the year was October 30th, 1963... Doing the math in her head, she realized that Michael Myers is currently twenty-six years old! Only two years older than her. He pulled the paper away and stuffed it back into the drawer, slamming it shut.

He stalked back to his place at the foot of the bed and resumed staring at Carlisle. "I'm twenty-four." She informed bravely. Figuring that she had all the time in the world, she decided to introduce herself. "And my name is Carlisle....Carlisle Nicole Kettering." He found the name to be rather different than the typical names that he was used to.Michael slowly tilted his head. No one really introduced themselves to him, so he figured that the young woman before him was either very brave or very stupid. Michael figured that it was the latter considering that he could kill her at any time and she knew that.

'Maybe she has a death wish...'  Was all that Myers could think. He knew that she really didn't care what happened to herself....but he wasn't too sure about the idea that she chased after her own death. ' Improbable... ' Was his second thought. So he decided on thinking that she'd avoid death, but when it finally happened and there was nothing that she could do.... she accepted it without fear or sadness. An interesting woman, no doubt. The odd young lady was full of surprises...

They stayed in an uncomfortable silence for another few minutes before Michael reached forward. Carlisle willed herself to stay still as Michael used his index finger and middle finger to close her eyelids. 'Must be his way of telling me to sleep.' She thought as she felt herself slowly drift off into a much needed sleep. It was abnormal how quickly Carlisle subdued to the darkness, but she felt like she'd been tranquilized suddenly.

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Carlisle's eyelids slowly cracked open to reveal the ceiling painted orange and pink with the colors of sunrise. As  the events of last night replayed in her mind she remembered that Michael Myers was sitting on her bed and she looked down to be proven right. He was still there, staring at Carlisle. "Good morning." She spoke without realizing it as she stretched. Her sore limbs cracked as she relieved herself of the tension in them. 

He stood up and left the room, slamming the door yet again. 'What a weirdo.' Carlisle smirked at her sarcastic thoughts. It wasn't long before he came back holding grocery bags and a.... first aid kit? Was it for Carlisle's stitches? As he set the bags on the table, he approached Carlisle. She sat up, swinging over the side of the bed. He sat down about a foot away from her and pulled some small scissors from the kit. Pointing at her wrist, he curled him finger to gesture Carlisle that he needed it.

She hesitantly reached forward and tensed up when he cut the stitches. Soon he pulled some tweezers from the kit and pulled the thread out. After he did this to her other wrist and ankles, he began to disinfect them with rubbing alcohol on a cloth that he pulled from his pocket. She was frozen the entire time. It was odd that he was cleaning her up, but he seemed to know enough about people to know that they needed to be taken care of sometimes.

She watched him close the kit and put it down on the table, grabbing the bags. He dropped them into her lap. Inside one of them was a bag of Doritos, a Mountain Dew, and eight chocolate cupcakes in a clear container. In another bag was a box containing some size seven and a half pure black high top Vans . Carlisle was only a seven, but she'd wear them anyways. Underneath that was a black sweatshirt with a tiny smiley face in the corner and some loose fitting acid washed jeans. Carlisle looked up at him and smiled just like the face on her new sweatshirt.

"Thanks."