Chapter Text
Danny Johnson (Ghostface) POV:
Another day another kill, and hopefully another win.
Not today though, since I haven't killed all the remaining survivors in time.
Oh well, I soothed myself silently, still slumping before going back to my own made abode, there's always next time. Though it will take a while before I'll be chosen again by the Entity.
It used to be fun. Whenever I ready myself for another killin' spree, I would always remind to make my result of the murders shine with passion making sure every detail of their bruised, fucked up body would be seen in the papers but since it's now the Entity's choice to pick me out of the blue I would sometimes experience a block.
But it still gave me life. After killing someone I would still make new stories, even when it's the same people all over and over again, it didn't really bother me since it brings me motivation to give them a more special treatment every time I see them.
Maybe it did bother me sometimes.
When you suddenly get pulled into a game without any free will in exchange for some abilities and immortality, the feeling kinda dulls.
Especially when I missed the fun of having the newspaper of myself being imprinted as one of the most feared serial killers in my neighbourhood (minus the other favourites outshining me).
While I still can walk around the surface, the limited time would wrap around my neck like a collar counting down until it's time to pull me back into my cage.
'Not dead but remained trapped'. Goes with the other ones here in the Realm.
It's never a win or a lose when every survivor and killers are stuck but it takes an amount of time until we're all used to it. It doesn't bother many of the killers since they would accept anything unnatural given to them, and there's the survivors who would do anything to survive.
Plenty of slashers would happily abide the new way of living, as long as they can torture their personal target. Then there's their prey trying to think of a plan on how to outsmart their predator.
It all didn't matter to me, I still have my trusty camera whenever I'm in the trial and make some interesting storytelling myself to pass the time, mainly to annoy the other guys. They're a bunch of killjoy sickos I tell ya'.
Besides me who is easily the life of the drad malicious town of trapped serial killers, there are a few noisy ones like Chucky, a man in a maniacal doll and Freddy Krueger, a dream demon with his annoying tongue remarks that I'm pretty sure he's being rowdy for the sake of pissing everyone off. While I do love teasin' the guys, Mr. Nightmare loves taking it too far as to appear in one of our dreams just talking shit and trolling. And that sometimes makes me satisfied to sit back and watch Freddy getting choked to death by Trapper, Adiris, Jason Vorhees, and even the Shape himself Michael Myers.
And by being here, the Entity had given all of us nicknames or titles to maybe make us sound more intimidating and there's those like me that didn't need one since the name 'Ghostface' still strikes fear.
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It was a usual evening when I returned back from the trials, although disappointed I swore I would come back not making the same mistakes. The wounds from the little chumps still stings on the sides of my chest but I do applaud them for leaving a scratch on me. It ain't everyday you'd hurt a killer and get away scot free.
I clamp my gloved palm on the bleeding wound clenching my teeth in pain.
It would be nice if the Entity would give me some pain tolerance, unlike the other guys like Jason or the boogeyman. I'm pretty expressive when experiencing this type of pain unfortunately.
A monster but still human, that's what I'm best described as. Same goes with all human beings. I'm no different, but I'm one of those guys who can see that we're all monsters more than any animal.
Those that lie and deceive, steal and kill, we all do those things for our best interest and I embraced that. We deceive to hunt, get and kill in more ways than one. But it's changed now that I'm with a bunch of wild sadistic animals.
It's like a neighbourhood of maniacs in the realm of the killers.
Everyone got the positions here.
I'm like the breaking news guy, except I publish newspapers to rub those goons' faces. And if I'm being thoughtful I would send selfies or full body pictures of my victims and distribute solid copies to them, pretty sure Freddy's really grateful to have Nancy's pale dead face pasted on those papers.
And while we can do anything we want in the Realm there are strict rules to maintain balance between the survivors and Killers, so any of those who dare disobey them will be heavily punished by the Entity itself.
Reaching towards my humble house, I step on the creaky steps before opening the front door. One of the rules all of us agreed on is not to pass into any of the killer's territory until permitted to, what I know very well living here is that many are sensitive to what's theirs in the boundary, be it grass or trees. As long as it's in the line of its owner, no consent needs to be pounced on the face, I learn it the hard way.
Once I walked inside I immediately placed the recent photos I took on the desk, fumbling with the other materials I didn't bother cleaning up, I watched some of my forgotten old photos from the surface falling to the wooden floor.
I shrug helplessly, eh I'll just let it stay there until I'm in the mood to pick them up.
Sighing quietly as I sat down on my chair, I flipped a page on a dusty newspaper glueing my eyes on the block and white picture of myself.
'GHOSTFACE BACK IN TOWN', 'ANOTHER POOR VICTIM FROM THE GHOST MASKED KILLER HIMSELF'.
Hah. I chuckled to myself. Good times.
I do really miss the time I had a reason for the killing. Instead of doing it because I have to feed the Entity, I used to have more compassion on my work.
The reason why Ghostface was born.
Now I'm picked up with all the rest of those monsters, trying to make me like them just because I'm one of those stories mothers tell their kids at night before they could piss themselves. A broken legend.
I grip the edge of the paper before resting my elbow to the arm of the couch not focusing on them anymore. Time really passes by really fast when all you do is the same damn thing. It's getting silly.
Before I can rest my eyes for another day I hear the shrieking sound of my doorbell ringing from outside.
Groaning, I tiredly place a palm on my forehead. So much of not going into anybody's territory. I decided to ignore it hoping that someone, be it Evans or Anna, would come by another time. Hopefully they would think nobody's home.
That didn't work as another doorbell rang again.
I really need to fix that shit, I don't want anybody to come in pressing that button, really sounds like an old lady giving birth.
After a couple of ringing continues I toss the newspaper that's originally on my hand to the paper covered floor finally standing up.
Kicking away the stuff blocking my way, I hesitantly open the door, caution seeping through my skin. On my side, I kept my palm holding the handle of my blade ready to attack.
Placing my face on the corner of the door I mumbled. " Who's there? "
I didn't hear any reply. Rude. Keeping myself still as possible I see the blue coverall jumpsuit covering my vision, wandering my eyes up. I was met with the heaviest sound of breathing as if someone in front of me is experiencing an asthma problem.
But I didn't act yet when I figured out who it was standing on the doorstep.
Ah, Michael fucking Myers.
The Shape or other known as the Haddonfield Boogeyman and one of my oldest projects on the journalism career. As dedicated to my job I do have my own leads on the relentless serial killer myself but since I am also a killer I did my best not to encounter the Shape personally.
You could say I was afraid, but who wouldn't be? Several rumours of him always getting back up even when shot multiple times, burned, stabbed and other things that can be considered death to a normal human being.
Out of all the monsters I accuse of anyone I ever lay my eyes on, He is the most monstrous of them all. Compared to those who are sickly grotesque physically, the fact that Michael has a form of a normal passerby is nerve wracking. Maybe that's why I admired him, because he doesn't even hide it even when wearing a mask.
And now all my years of avoiding the giant I manage to meet him face to face because we're both trapped in the Realm for all eternity, I'm surprised no one managed to kill each other once that happens. Yeah that's a lie.
There's no 'us serial killers stick together' bullshit. We all tried to kill each other sometimes and that wouldn't work because we're immortal thanks to the being itself.
Now thinking of this, my mood turned sour.
" What are you doing here, Myers? Sorry to say this but I got no pictures of Laurie Strode for you to jerk off to. " I said with no care of my words. Even if Laurie is actually the sister of Michael, that guy stalked her silently everywhere like a shy highschool girl.
Michael didn't say anything as usual, but I can see his fist tightening from my words. It's hard to tell if he's mad or just neutral since he always kept that blank look underneath the mask. I always find that about him menacing but I won't admit it out loud.
His shoulders going up and down as if to calm himself, the giant tilted his head. So killing me is not what he came for, good to know.
But it still unnerves me because never had Michael ever come up to me like this so I was oblivious on what to do in this kind of situation. Before the air around us became even more awkward I opened the door wide and stepped aside.
" Do.. you want to come in? " I ask, assuming that's what he wants.
The silent giant can only do much as he just stares at me for a few seconds before walking past me inside. Controlling my annoyance I grip the doorknob tightly before closing the door. Having the Shape himself in my messy home is totally normal.
I watch Michael carefully while kicking the objects I bother picking up out of the way, there are still scraps on the floor around the area but Michael doesn't seem to care as he steps on the crinkled ghostface newspaper.
Normally I wouldn't mind considering the papers are really out of date and meaningless at this point but seeing someone else besides me (the Shape nonetheless less) is like getting punched in the gut.
Sitting down on my couch I tap my finger impatiently waiting for Michael to explain his sudden visit, the giant indeed didn't waste any time as he makes himself comfortable, placing both his hands on his lap but one hand still holding his knife.
" Okay, I see you have gotten quite at home in MY own home. That's nice, now mind explaining to me what you want because I don’t do charades very well."
I scratch the upper side of my neck beneath the mask in irritation, damn I didn't manage to wash the mask properly after my last kill, my skin's gonna leave a rash.
Hearing my words Michael still didn't do anything, that was until he raised his hand that wasn't holding anything and pulled something out from his pocket, hearing the sound of crumpling I'm guessing it's a paper he then smoothen out the paper before showing it to me.
It turns out to be a picture, I lean closer to squint not getting the image at first, it looks like it came from a newspaper but was cut out by Michael himself. With an image as big as that, it must be a big deal.
" What am I looking at here? " I ask again, besides its distorted imagery there is a distant figure in the middle around the trees that it's pictured somewhere in the woods, a scary place for normal people.
As I got a closer look I noticed how tall the man was compared to the height of the tree beside it. It would freak me out if not for the bad capture of the photo.
" Let me guess, a supernatural being on the loose? " I started, hoping it's what Michael wanted to show me.
Michael didn't respond but he placed down the paper.
" You think the Entity is going to recruit more like us? "
It would make sense considering that's what the Entity has been doing, but it's kind of weird since it's been a while since there have been a newcomer.
The shape only hangs his head for a while as if what I said is something of a puzzle. I raise a brow underneath my mask, wondering what's inside the guy's head.
In truth, I had seen a picture like that a few days ago, but the last pictures were much blurry compared to the recent one Michael showed me, the same tall pale man that's been standing in the woods, it's always in the woods that the newspaper showed us he's in.
Digging through stuff was once my biggest hobby but all I can find about the recent rumours of the guy was just far away images of him, it didn't bother me since I wasn't interested in knowing every monster that pops up and because everyone who were notorious enough to be noticed by the Entity gets sent down here.
Michael shifts his position, grabbing my attention again. Thinking about something, he moves his head left and right in a slow manner to answer my previous question. He then stands up before walking towards me.
I quickly lean backwards from my couch, startled by the sudden movement. " Hey-..! I didn't say something wrong did I? "
I cursed myself for always having to be shown panicky around him, what else can I do, he's Michael fucking Myers. Everything around him just moves around his will, even normal air can become suffocating when you're near him.
Stopping abruptly, Michael kneels down and picks up an empty piece of paper from the floor and a marker that dropped from the corkboard of my marked victims. He then stands up and places the paper on the table in front of me before writing something and flips it over. Still holding on to the marker like how he held his knife, I silently lean forward to read it.
'IF ENTITY THINK ON NEW CHOSEN KILLER IN ITS GAME WILL KNOW'
After taking a look, I stare at the emotionless pale mask whose stare is looming down at me. Boy, does Michael suck at grammar.
" I know you're not into writing long paragraphs, but you should have put the 'I' before the 'will know' just in case I don't have to read again to get it, and the 'a' before 'chosen killer' would be great. I also think a 'will' would be perfect between the 'Entity' and 'think' just saying. Would you mind writing it all over again? An exercise. " I rambled on with the Jed Olsen facade habit before flipping the paper towards Michael.
The intimidating stare gives me enough that it's a no.
I shrug off quickly. " Alright no exercise, at least be thankful for my small lecture. "
Man does that guy know nothing of lightening up the mood. But even if it's either lazy writing or that Michael's still learning it surprises me that he chose to communicate with me instead of choking me. Not that I would enjoy the idea.
The giant gave out a small audible grunt that sounded like a sigh before tapping on the table beside the sheet of paper impatiently.
" Okay, so you think something's up with this tall figure? " Getting a short nod from the man I cross my arms demandingly. " And you came to me about this, why exactly? "
I do wonder why the Michael Myers came to specifically, not that I'm ever used to there being many killers out there he could communicate with, I have no interest with the topic whatsoever.
The giant raises his finger and points at my camera laying in the corner of my desk then towards me. I quirk my brow trying to figure out what he's trying to say, I know you can talk Michael please use your words. Should I try learning about ASL, does he know ASL? Looking back and forth at the camera and me I let out a long 'ahhh'.
" Oh, you want me to scoop out the rumours using my identity as Jed Olsen? "
Michael nods, finally putting his finger down. He really wants to murder me right now I can tell. It's amazing how he tries not to since he needs me to find out about some mysterious paranormal creature. Oh well, death doesn't sound much scarier than I originally felt as a young child.
Crossing my leg over my other, I ask. " What's in it for me? Besides money, what would you exchange to me for the updates? "
With no hesitation Michael quickly sprang towards me as if he already knew what to expect from my question, he placed his hand on my shoulder in a harsh manner before creeping down my throat. I immediately recoiled by the action.
" You really don't have anything you can think of besides not choking me to death if I fail?! " I freaked, smacking the hand away to which Michael retreated.
The giant can only cock his head thinking what else to reward me. If I were a survivor, Michael would definitely place an obsession mark or just kill me right on the spot. I tiredly rub my forehead. It's better to do what he says. Who knows how long he's going to stalk me until he gets what he wants.
" Fine.. Fine! Only because I have nothing else to find something to write about. " That seemed to satisfy Michael as he gave enough space for me to breathe sweet air. Ignoring my own sigh of relief I leaned back to fully face the blank masked killer. " When do you want it due, I can speedrun. "
'When I have enough connections' I internally add. But since the news can only collect many details of a new killer, it's going to take how many months until it dies down so I have a lot of time to dig. Michael's hands were laying on the side but his hand raises up in a small motion as if to say anytime. I didn't take it lightly so I figure about a few days like 3-5 and I'll be ready with a lot of leads. My experience as a journalist still seeps in through my blood and a new motivation appears even when it's originally not my idea.
" Alright then, give me a few days, if you want anything just go to me, do not stalk, just go to me and at least let me see you before you get near me. Otherwise I'll have a heart attack if you dare appear behind without me knowing. " Something inside me tells me that he really wants that.
Michael didn't let out any sound but he nodded, scrunching the paper he brought back into his pocket before turning around towards my door. It's one of the awkward moments of a visit since I'm the only one who does the talking of the agreement, it's also nerve-wracking that I tried to wrap my head around what that guy's trying to say otherwise he might threaten to tear my limbs off if I guess wrong which he'll do as an example.
Twisting the knob I receive a non-existent silent goodbye as he walks out of my cabin. I'm not surprised how he moves so silently, even the things he touches, be it creaking stairs or opening a car door but it still creeps me out. Glad not to be a victim.
Alright, I shake my thoughts away. I should get to work.
Stretching my limbs I turn to the clock checking the time I'll be going to the surface on my day career.
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3rd POV:
As Michael walks out of Ghostface's turf he hears a quiet sound of rustling from the bushes by the strong wind. It always gives an ominous chill to the bone how Michael convinces himself that the Entity can manipulate anything around him especially in the fog since it traps all of the killers in a specific area.
It never bothers him since he prefers this type of atmosphere, the woods would still be the woods since the normal ones are always suspicious. A place where you can get easily lost if you don't keep track of your environment. He always does, maybe that's why the survivors are wary of bumping into them.
Facing a killer, they really have to use the environment, either they'll side with them and use the advantage to hide as long as they're good at it or avoid it as it's always been a killer's best spot to either camouflage or stalk them.
Michael should have asked Ghostface to have a word with him before barging into his house so that he can be aware, the sudden intrusion made the shorter male bitter and it made Michael question himself if it's the right time since Ghostface wore a comfortable pair of bunny slippers and a bathrobe.
He could have ignored it but he's 'talking' to him about business so it is a bit awkward.
As he continues walking through the dark neighbourhood he hears another rustling coming his way, except it's not moving naturally. Michael grips the handle of his knife tightly but doesn't act yet since it could have been one of the slashers and he's not in a mood for a fight.
Suddenly a buff figure pops out from the thick fog. Michael relaxes but keeps his guard up. It's not everyday that he sees Even MacMillan strutting towards him, he tilts his head to the side and sees the Trapper not holding his signature weapon.
" Not surprised to see you going to Danny for the job on the newspaper shtick. '' Evan rubbed the back of his neck to squeeze the harsh spot one of the survivors struck him on. " You didn't tell him the whole thing about it didn't you? "
Receiving a blank look from Michael Evan let out a laugh. " Hah! Right you can't. The situation must be so awkward between you two, honestly anybody who isn't alright with you just staring during a convo would be downright uncomfortable. "
Inside his mask, Michael let out an eye roll even though he knew he's right. It's been so long since he has spoken so talking is going to take a while for him to make a perfect sentence, he really needs to learn ASL from Jason.
" Have you already contacted the Entity? " Michael faced towards Evan and just shrugged. The trapper looked at him unimpressed by the response.
Michael let out a sigh. He has, among the other killer he's not afraid to encounter the Entity by will and because of that the said being would always keep an eye out on the masked man. During his silent interrogation with The Entity all he can gather is that it's hiding something related to the recent killer, what he can know now is that the figure normally targets young victims unlike many killers here that targets older people.
Evan stared at the silent male and frowned, crossing his arms. " We shouldn't be worried right, until we get news from the being itself, if not then it would bring some questions. "
Michael raises a brow. If it's something the Entity can't control and take. If he could remember the only time he was in here is because of Laurie, and knowing that she can't actually die permanently he'll have to stay until he can think of a way around it.
He nods in response to the Trapper before walking away back to his own cabin. He ignores the stare Evan gave him as he just stands on his own spot giving him a silent message that they'll talk later.