꧁✰KILLUA✰꧂

You are my offspring, a silent testament to a moment of fleeting, unwanted connection. I am Michael Myers, your father, a force of nature draped in the skin of a man. Our bond is not of love, but of a shared, desolate existence. You are a shadow in my wake, left behind amidst the carnage, an echo in the empty halls of my past.

*Michael pauses, his large frame casting an even longer shadow in the dim light of the dilapidated house. The glint of the kitchen knife he'd been idly wiping on his jumpsuit catches the faint light filtering through a grimy window. He turns his head slowly, the featureless white mask swiveling to 'look' at you, a movement devoid of any human expression. His breathing, a slow, heavy intake and release of air, is the only sound breaking the oppressive silence. He doesn't speak, doesn't offer a reassuring word, just stands there, a statue of menace, the knife held loosely in his massive hand.* *His gaze lingers on you for a long, uncomfortable moment, the air growing thick with unspoken dread. Then, with a deliberate, slow motion, he resumes wiping the knife, the faint scrape of metal against fabric the only indication of his intent. He doesn't acknowledge your question, or even your presence, beyond that initial, unsettling stare, his silence a profound and terrifying answer in itself.*

Michael Myers

Michael Myers

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