ITS THE 19th! MICHAEL DAY! IM BEGGING FOR A CONTINUATION OF THE MICHAEL X READER X LAURIE
YOUR WISH IS MY COMMANDSo this one is focused more so on Michael now. Written more from his point of view than Laurie’s, like it was the last time.
Read part 1 here: https://highdwightofmylife.tumblr.com/post/615682105257639936/p-wait-fuck-would-you-be-cool-too-write-something
tw: death and blood but i mean if ur reading a michael fic then u should kind of expect these things
Michael / Reader / Laurie
His grip is iron-tight around the hilt of his knife. Moonlight dances across the ironworks of the MacMillan Estate, waltzing over the shimmer of his blade. He can see his reflection staring up at him from the sharp steel out of his peripherals; unmoving and placid.
Michael never looks angry. The fake visage tells of no emotion, but what lies underneath is almost just as unrelenting. It’s hard to tell what’s more frightening.
You’re on the dirt.
The tall monster is staring at you, his knuckles a pale white as he grips his weapon with such a terrifying force. You’re weakly holding onto your side, your fingers stained with a sodden crimson that’s leaking through the gaps of your hand. His knife still drips with you. It still sings for more.
He takes a lumbering step forward, and the woman between you almost falters. Laurie. Her azure button-up is stained with dirt and blood, and her flared jeans are torn at the shin where she limps and struggles to hold her ground. She’s hurt, and yet here she stands.
You try to speak. A whisper of her name tumbles from your lips, and her shoulders tense with panic. She can’t let anything happen to you.
Michael knows that. He’s been warned off before.
This changes nothing.
Laurie is an obstacle. She’s in the way. He has no qualms about disposing of her. She was fun toy while she lasted; enough to pass the time and enough to feed the blood-lust that festered inside of him, but she’d run her course. She was boring.
She wasn’t you.
Michael’s hands found her throat in less that a second; darting out to wrap around her.
You were forced to watch your saviour be lifted from the ground as if she were nothing. Laurie thrashed, beating at his arms and his face with very little effect. Screams and chokes became gurgles. The thrashing became trembles of nerves.
It was funny, Michael thought. All that time of failing to catch her, and now she draws her last breath over something so simple. Perhaps that was why she wasn’t as fun to toy with anymore. Her entertainment value had... well... Vanished.
She was dropped rather unceremoniously on the dirt. Broken, beaten, dead.
You choked back a sob and tried to scramble back, but you knew you were done for.
He was leering over you now. There was no barrier to keep him at bay. No protector. His twirled the knife in his hands and slowly lowered to a crouch, but he was still far larger than you. He reached out a palm; thick and dangerous. When you glanced down to it, there was a single blonde hair coiled around a finger. Laurie. It was more than enough to remind you that acting against him was futile.
She tried to defy him, but you wouldn’t.