Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2021 17:52:09 GMT -6
Uh oh.
Michael had done this many times, this whole trick routine it had going. Enter someone's realm, shift their belongings around. Nothing permanent, of course — though was anything permanent here? — but just enough to make his fellow killers eternally question their sanity. Moving car repair equipment from counter to counter, putting out the fire under a cookpot or two. Pinning threats to the walls of lockers with stolen knives and axes.
You know. Friendly games.
It was a fun set up. Michael enjoyed it, knowing plenty well no one would deign think him the perpetrator, and certainly no one would attempt to retaliate against the Boogeyman itself. Well, they wouldn't know it was Michael if he hadn't fucked himself as royally as he just had.
See, the issue came in, when Michael thought this particular bear trap was a bit rustier than it truly was. He didn't really expect it to still be able to clasp shut. But, now, with their own blood dripping onto Trapper's work desk, that seemed, maybe, perhaps. Like an inaccurate assumption.
It didn't hurt, at least. Just the pulsating sensation of a lot of blood quickly leaving the body. Nothing Michael wasn't used to. The problem came in with the fact that Michael was acutely aware of how soon it would be until Evan... "came home," so to speak. Aware of it, because it was happening right now, and here Michael is, hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. And somehow, all Myers could manage was the trademark head tilt, as though Evan was the upsetting party here, not a 6'7 idiot wearing a latex mask dripping pools of blood in a place it almost certainly didn't belong.
Michael had done this many times, this whole trick routine it had going. Enter someone's realm, shift their belongings around. Nothing permanent, of course — though was anything permanent here? — but just enough to make his fellow killers eternally question their sanity. Moving car repair equipment from counter to counter, putting out the fire under a cookpot or two. Pinning threats to the walls of lockers with stolen knives and axes.
You know. Friendly games.
It was a fun set up. Michael enjoyed it, knowing plenty well no one would deign think him the perpetrator, and certainly no one would attempt to retaliate against the Boogeyman itself. Well, they wouldn't know it was Michael if he hadn't fucked himself as royally as he just had.
See, the issue came in, when Michael thought this particular bear trap was a bit rustier than it truly was. He didn't really expect it to still be able to clasp shut. But, now, with their own blood dripping onto Trapper's work desk, that seemed, maybe, perhaps. Like an inaccurate assumption.
It didn't hurt, at least. Just the pulsating sensation of a lot of blood quickly leaving the body. Nothing Michael wasn't used to. The problem came in with the fact that Michael was acutely aware of how soon it would be until Evan... "came home," so to speak. Aware of it, because it was happening right now, and here Michael is, hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. And somehow, all Myers could manage was the trademark head tilt, as though Evan was the upsetting party here, not a 6'7 idiot wearing a latex mask dripping pools of blood in a place it almost certainly didn't belong.