Michael Myers

I woke up the next morning and found a ray of sun shine spreading out my window to my pillow. I jerked up and got away from the ray. I have this tendency to get away from the rays of the sun so that I can keep up my pale skin. Yes, I go a bit to the extremes to stay light but here's the thing. The more you tan in your younger years, the more wrinkly you're gonna get when you're older. Plus, excessive tanning can lead to various skin cancers and some can become fatal if not treated. So, tanners beware! Anyways, ending this little lesson, I got up and went to the bathroom to use the toilet. I looked in the mirror to see some of my costume make up rubbed off from my sleep. I washed off the rest and went down stairs to find Michael in the kitchen staring off into space.
"Good morning," I muttered. He turned his head towards me and nodded. The silent treatment again, eh? Well, two can play at this game. I sat down and stared at the table, looking at the odd patterns in it. I grew bored and looked up at Michael. He was staring back at me. I wondered what he could possibly be thinking. Not really that curious, I got up and returned with some paper, a pencil, and a big eraser. Drawing was always one of my favorite ways to escape from life...
Michael's P.O.V.
I've been sitting here in the kitchen since it was still a little dark out. I've been thinking of things I haven't had time to think of much often. I wondered about this girl I'm having to bring around with me. She seems more corporative than most teenagers would be at being stuck with a murderer. Does she have some sort of secret plan to escape? I thought.
"Good morning," I heard behind me. It was Nicole again. Her face paint was off and showing her clear pale face. I nodded at her and she grew silent. I guess it annoys you being with another quiet mouse, I thought, feeling a little amused. She sat down at the table and started staring at it. She's probably trying to see who goes insane from all the silence first. I stared at her as she kept her gaze down at the table. There's no possible way that she could be planning to escape. I'll admit she's bright but she's not a genius. Wait. Why do I care if she gets away or not? That really got to me. I didn't even give any reason for her to hang around me when we first met. I just told her that those streets weren't safe for her to be wandering around on. What's been with me, recently? Not even one day and I'm already going a little nuts. I saw her stare back at me and kept my gaze. She got up and returned minutes later with some stuff to write with. Great. Now she's trying to communicate without talking by using paper and pencil. Then, she surprised me again by drawing something. I stared even more to see what she could be drawing out. I wonder if she drew pictures of her enemies before the day she killed them. I don't have much of a skill in drawing or anything like that. I do seem to get on other's nerves or freak people out with the constant muteness I have. I looked back over and saw that she drew a body all scarred up, bloody, and twisted up.
Nicole's P.O.V.
...I put down my pencil and wiped off any left over eraser before looking over it again. I've had this image stuck in my head all night and I'm glad I was able to draw it down before it slipped my mind.
"So, you can draw?" I looked up at him and saw his eyes examining my picture.
"Yeah, but I do a lot of other artistic things."
"Like what?"
"Poetry, stories, writing. Sometimes I sing to myself."
"So, it looks like we've got a creative person here."
"It appears so. I hear that drawing's a rare talent. Do you have any talents, Michael?"
"I don't really pay much attention to stuff like that."
"Well, was there anything you did in the psychiatric ward that no one else could do?"
"Besides appearing mute and escaping on the first try?" I laughed a little but noticed he was still emotionless.
"Well, the way you kill can be considered a talent."
"How?"
"Each killer has a different method or style of killing. The way you kill can refer to as your talent or form of art."
"Killing and art put together?"
"Why not? If they put peanut butter and chocolate together then can't killing and art go the same way?" (I LOVE Reese's cups! It's one of those crazy addictions I have. They just taste sooo good! Okay another random thought in a story but that's fine, right?) He looked at me and then grunted.
"You are a very strange girl."
"I've been told so many times it brings little meaning. It also seems like a compliment." He looked away and stared at the wall again...
Michael's P.O.V.
Okay, now I feel a bit uncomfortable around her. She seems to make me laugh now. I haven't been able to laugh in years. Probably because there wasn't anything to find much amusement in. There's something else though. Something about her makes me feel weird. I had to look away from her just so that she didn't see the blood rushing to my cheeks. I brush this all off. She's just my partner, I say to myself, I don't have any feelings toward her or anyone else. She is nothing but my partner and that is all...
Nicole's P.O.V.
I get up and go upstairs to put my drawing away.
"Hey," I hear Michael say before I got out of the door way.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to help me in my killings?" This was a little weird.
"How can I help?"
"You seem to find a way to make death look unique. Do you want to mess around with the bodies I kill during Halloween?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice." I put my picture up and felt a great feeling going through me. I get to help Michael on his killing sprees. So, I'm not so useless to him after all.