@LyNnwrites123

I like horror, TMNT, Marvel, and more! Message me for and requests!

[vincent-van-gtg]

[fitnessdesire]

Can’t risk it

[laderdesders1]

The duck of creativity. I waited so long for it.

[w00nderfulll]

fucking duck

[allykakamatsu]

Not risking this

[ladykagewaki]

Please bless me, duck of creativity!

[haunted-queenmanor-deactivated2]

*doctor weird theme and voice* BEHOLD THE DUCK OF CREATIVITY!!!

[axle-idk]

Not risking it fam-

[lynnwrites123]

I can't risk it ya'll!!!

[lynnwrites123]

Why?

It was the year 1981 at 10:02 p.m. My heart pounded in my chest as I limped through the dimly lit hallways of the hospital, a small trail of crimson red blood leaked down my leg. I had been stabbed. Who was my soon-to-be killer, you ask? None other than the infamous Michael Myers.

After a horrifying, bloody babysitting job with my sister, Laurie, I rushed her to the hospital to stop the bleeding from where the infamous Boogeyman had stabbed her. Everything was fine. We had somehow escaped from Michael and gotten help. Laurie was rushed to the surgery room, while I was tended to for some minor bruises on my neck where Michael had tried to suffocate me to death. Everything hurt like hell. My massive headache made it feel like the room was spinning in infinite circles. I was waiting down the hall from where Laurie was recovering from the horrific event. I had my eyes closed, sitting in the hard chair waiting for the doctor to give us the “OK” so we could go home.

Only, I didn’t hear any of that. Or even see the doctor either. All I heard was one thing I hoped I would never hear again after tonight.

“AAAHHHHH! Y/N!!!”

Laurie.

My eyes shot open and I almost fell over as I ran to Laurie’s hospital room. She wasn’t there. Was I too late? Was she already gone?

“Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?!” I heard Laurie scream again.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I darted down the hall towards her voice. I turned a few corners, finally finding her slowly limping away from something due to her surgery.

“Laurie!” I shouted. I caught her in a hug as she practically collapsed in my arms. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Y-y/N..” She stammered out. “He’s here.”

I could feel my heart stop for a second.

“You don’t mean...”

I somehow heard both light and heavy footsteps. I looked up and fear was struck in me.

Michael. Fucking. Myers.

The two pitch black holes on his mask, to represent his eyes, looked like two dark, cold pools. From which I would drown in my own blood. A shiver was sent down my spine.

Based on the fact that Michael was a fast walker and Laurie was practically crawling, I was about to have a goddamn panic attack. So I knew that only one of us would be able to make it in the end. And it was going to be Laurie. As Michael began walking towards us, a bloody knife in hand, and picked up Laurie and dashed for the nearest exit.

It was locked. Of fuckin’ course it was!

I dashed down another hallway, with Laurie in my arms, her hands clinging to me. After I had almost given up hope, I had found an operation room with what looked like people were inside. I rushed her inside, barely being able to place her on the table without dropping her.

Three doctors and a nurse turned and dropped what they were doing when they saw the state that Laurie was in.

“What the hell happened to her?” One of them asked as they put a pair of gloves on.

“I-I think she got stabbed. I don’t know where.” I blurted out. I stopped for barely a second to pick up and shove a small scalpel in my pocket, before heading back out the doors.

“Wait!” One of the nurses called after me whilst placing a hand on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t respond I just pushed through the doors and speed-walked down the hallway.

I turned the corner and there he was. 6′ 9″, blood covering his hands, and a kitchen knife clenched in one of them.

 I turned and ran in another direction hoping he would follow me and not find Laurie. I glanced back and he was indeed following me. Rushing down the endless hallways, I finally saw a glowing “EXIT” sign above my head with an arrow pointing to the right. If I could get him outside, someone would surely see him chasing me and call the police. Then this nightmare would finally be over. Or, so I thought.

Just seconds away from freedom, I went to turn the corner and rush out the doors when I felt a heart-spiking pain in my calf. Looking down I saw Michael’s knife lodged in my lower leg. He had perfectly thrown the knife and had it lodged in my leg. I let out a scream of pain and almost dropped to the floor, barely catching myself on a wall. As his footsteps became louder, my strength became weaker. I could barely stand, basically dragging myself through the last few steps I needed to take in order to get out.

Suddenly, a pair of cold hands wrapped around my ankles pulling me back. I screamed and yelled hoping someone would hear, but no one did. After pulling me back, he picked me up by the throat and slammed he against the nearest wall. I could slowly feel the air leaving my body and not coming back.

Regretting what I was going to do next, I reached into my pocket and grabbed the scalpel, jamming it into the side of Michael’s neck. He let out a loud grunt and loosened his grip a bit. I took the opportunity and kicked him in his- well, do I really need to say it?

This time I was dropped to the ground harshly as Michael dropped to his knees and let out a groan. But his pain didn’t last for long. Not even seconds after, he was back up again and this time he ripped the knife from my leg, blood squirting out. I didn’t even scream this time, I was too tired and weak.

I was picked up by the collar of my shirt. Michael had the knife clenched in his hand, ready to kill me and end my life. I closed my eyes and prepared for death to wash over me. But only, it didn’t happen. There was no stabbing, no choking, and no death.

I opened my eyes to see Michael just staring at me. A tilt of his head, and his grip on my shirt tightened a bit as I leaned away. It was like that for a few seconds, before he placed me back on the ground, not slamming me this time, and walked towards the exit. As his hand was placed on the door handle, he took a quick glance back at me, made what sounded like a scoff, then walked out into the night.

I don’t know why he let me live, he could have easily killed me without much effort. But he didn’t. So that left me standing there in the hallway, with one word circling my mind: Why?