"Stabbed Hearts" *Michael Myers X M! Oc

XV

I awoke to the soft warmth of sunlight spilling across my face, gently pulling me from the grip of sleep. Blinking against the brightness, I sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The room was quiet, still cloaked in early morning stillness. I turned my head to check the clock - 4:35 AM. It was early, but it was time to get up and start the day.

Dragging myself out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom, the floor cool beneath my feet. I turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water wash over me, waking up my body as steam filled the small space. After a few minutes, I lathered up, rinsed off, and stepped out feeling more alert. I wiped the fog from the mirror and brushed my teeth, the minty taste refreshing and sharp in my mouth.

Once I was done in the bathroom, I headed back into my room and picked out my work clothes - a clean shirt, slacks, and a jacket. I dressed quickly, then reached for my work tag, slipping the lanyard over my head and letting it rest against my chest.

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The corridor felt too quiet when I stepped out, every sound echoing as if the whole place was holding its breath. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a pale glow on the sterile floor.

My eyes flicked to the cell across from my room Michael's cell.

Two guards stood watch, their hands resting on their batons. They didn't speak, just nodded stiffly as I approached. I hesitated, then looked through the small reinforced window.

Michael sat on the floor, his back against the wall, wrists bound in reinforced cuffs. He was awake, his dark eyes locked on me the instant I moved into view.

For a moment, I froze. I could still feel last night's chaos pulsing in my memory the splintering bed frame, the guards storming in, the sickening sound of the helmet cracking against the wall.

Michael shifted slowly, leaning forward until he was crouched close to the window. His stare never wavered.

Then, the lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then darkness.

The emergency alarm blared, red lights flashing in warning. The guards swore and reached for their radios. Somewhere down the corridor, metal slammed against metal, followed by a low, distant growl.

I took a step back, heart hammering in my chest.

The lock on Michael's door clicked.

It shouldn't have but in the chaos of the alarms, the automatic release must have triggered. The door slid open with a loud hiss.

I stumbled backward as Michael stepped out, moving with quiet, deliberate steps. For a heartbeat, I thought he might attack again.

But he didn't.

Instead, he closed the distance between us in two strides and pulled me against him.

The air rushed from my lungs as his arms locked around me, strong and unyielding. My face pressed against his chest, my pulse racing. He didn't hurt me he just held me there, firm but careful, like a shield against the panic rising around us.

I froze, not sure what to do. His body was warm, his breathing steady against my ear, and for a moment, it felt like the alarms, the shouting guards, and whatever was crashing closer down the hall all faded into the background.

Then a deafening crash shook the corridor, and Michael's hold on me tightened.

He turned his body, positioning himself between me and the hallway

protecting me. His head snapped toward the noise, his whole frame tense like a coiled spring, ready to move.

For the first time, I didn't feel afraid of him.