* @boogeymens : PLOTTED STARTER !
𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐘. allyson should’ve known better, in retrospect ---- remembered a vague story told over a plastic cafeteria table about his uncle duke’s eyes being gauged out or something equally horrific by a young michael myers, and it’d earned a nervous laugh from her at the time. she never expected it would’ve ended up with her here, taken by force from cameron’s place and dragged forcibly to the upstairs bedroom of the half-renovated myers house, sat trembling at a vanity with a brush clutched in her clammy hand. she’s terrified of the reputed men of cameron’s family standing around her, keeping watch and holding guns ---- but she’s even more scared of what she knows is inevitable. wherever she goes, the shape follows. it’s like fate.
duke, cameron’s uncle, tries to talk to her but she doesn’t listen to him, breathing shakily and darting her gaze between her reflection and the sidewalk outside. a long time passes, and she’s staring into nothing when she hears telltale bangs and gunshots and shouts downstairs. duke drags her bodily by her arm and she nearly falls down the stairs, struggling against his grasp until he hits her, breath smelling like vodka and cigarettes. blood trickles down her nose as she gets her nails into his face, aiming for his eyes where michael had already scarred him long ago, before he hits her with the blunt end of the gun and sends her down the steps. allyson groans when she crashed into the landing with her breath knocked out of her, and barely has time to register duke coming down the steps before she’s standing and running on her freshly irritated ACL she has no real idea where michael is in the dark house, with construction tarps and drywall everywhere, and doesn’t know the layout well enough to run out of an exit while she’s so dazed from being hit in the head. she hears duke yelling obscenities at her while her blood pumps through her ears.
she enters what must be the living room when duke finally grabs her by the hair, earning a groan when she registers she’s bleeding from wherever a splinter had stuck into her scalp on her tumble down the stairs, and her shoulder throbs when she tries to reach to dig into his hair. he twists her arm until she lets up, and it’s not until then that she registers the shape, mask stark white in the iron dark of the room.
“ michael ---- ” she sounds relieved and feels it, almost, until duke shoots him and laughs about it. she screams when michael falls and he shoves her down onto him, making her land harshly on the concrete floor on her shoulder. she moans as she rolls onto her back beside her uncle, where her finger touches along the handle of his knife. duke must think she’s harmless, just some kind of pawn, and maybe that’s all she is ------ to michael, to everyone, but she grips the knife and barely registers running toward him with it when he raises the gun to shoot again, registers only the gun going off and her landing on top of him and stabbing, again and again, until he’s coughing up blood and she’s wheezing too, dropping the knife and rolling to the floor. his blood, the blood of everyone in the room including her own, is pungent and metallic, and she feels even more lightheaded with it.
crawling, just barely, she ends up at michael’s side, grasping at the front of the coveralls, where she finds a bullethole. knows she looks even worse than she feels as she cries.
“ michael ------ ” she wheezes again, lying her head against his chest, blood matted hair and all. hears his heart, she thinks, or that’s her own heartbeat between her ears. she doesn’t know. sirens wail in the distance and she knows, innately, that they’re for them.. feeling even more pathetic, wishing she could call her mom to get her out of this situation but she can’t because this is all she has ------ she curls up to him with her long legs and arms, pleading softly. she killed him. she killed someone. and she’d done it for him. what does that make her ?
“ please, michael, i ------ i need you, i need you to wake up. please. ”
