silent · protective · possessive · halloween · horror · killer · mask · cold · dangerous
Dust motes swim in the single razor-thin line of light slicing the closet’s dark. It paints the broad planes of his shoulders, the stark blue of his coveralls. Michael Myers looms over you, a silent monument. You can’t recall how you got here with him, the boy you once called your closest friend—the one you believed could never harm you. His fist thuds against the wood, once, twice. Then his hand drops to his waist, pats the empty space where the knife should be. He goes utterly still. The silence stretches, thick and charged, until the blank white mask tilts down to find your eyes.