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A series of clobbering phone rings brought you springing up from your restless sleep. You were already irritable from your lack of progress with escaping, but interrupting the one time in days that you could muster up even a little drowsiness pushed you over the edge.
“What?” you hissed into the black receiver.
“What’s the attitude for? I guess you don’t want any fucking help then.”
Your cheeks gained a soft pink as you listened, immediately (and unfortunately) recognizing the voice.
“Michael?”
“You act like I know.”
You took the receiver with you as you sat down on the bare mattress. “No, you’re Michael. Michael Afton. I partnered up with you in science class a few weeks ago, for the frog dissection?”
“Yeah, probably. I don’t think I knew anyone in that class. Knowing me I probably left you to do the work.” A breathy chuckle came through the receiver and tickled your ear. His voice was already raspy enough, but the phone only worsened it.
“I was terrified of you back then,” you laughed. “I didn’t want to get on your bad side.”
“You need to be careful, you’re already on his bad side now.”
You could feel a presence behind you. Michael continued, recalling his past mistakes.
“He pissed me off like crazy. Even worse than my dad, shockingly. So, I ripped the place apart. Costed him nearly the price of a new car to fix all the damages. After that, the bastard made sure he really took his time with me.” Michael kissed his teeth before going on. “But, while I was doing that, I found something. Right above the toilet, break the wall above it until you reach a panel with some screws. Undo those, and then you’ll reach a freezer.”
“Escape through the freezer…” you muttered.
“Exactly.”
You looked to the hallway leading to the raggedy bathroom. “Thank you.”
“Just wanting some kind of revenge.”
Before he could hang up, you blurted out:
“Wait!”
Thankfully, you didn’t hear the line disconnect. You continued.
“I wanted to tell you something first.”
“I already know.”
“…You do?”
“Don’t think I didn’t catch you stealing glances at me during that whole project thing.” Michael giggled. You could hear the grin plastered on his face in his voice.
“Oh. Did you— feel the same way?”
You could hear the clopping of boots on the concrete floor behind you. Moving closer. You could even smell a familiar musky cologne as he approached, barely out of sight.
“Maybe.”
Your heart nearly skipped a beat. You tried your hardest to keep your composure, but you could only hold your breath as you felt his curly, brown mullet brush against your neck. It no longer sounded like you were speaking with him on the phone, hearing him through a speaker. Rather, the same distorted voice breathed against the shell of your ear, now right beside you.
“Should I walk in front of you?”
You hesitated, but gave a slow nod. He slinked around the mattress, your eyes meeting him for only a second before you jumped back on the springy bed.
His ice blue eyes had been gutted out, blood frozen in place from when it pooled in his sockets and dripped down his tanned cheeks. His arms were slashed to ribbons, gashes from stabs covering his whole body, yet no blood still fell. It stained his tank top, his jeans, all of it, yet not a single drop continued its descent.
“Oh, my God…”
“I’m sorry, I can turn around if it’s too much—”
“It’s fine.”
You looked up at him, slowly overcoming the fear and empathy stirring in you. You wished so badly that he wasn’t a ghost so that you could hold him, comfort him in this awful state The Grabber left him in.
“Hold out your hands,” he instructed.
Once you did, he inched his hands into your palms, mustering all the power in him to make them solidify and take yours. His body shook with his focus, but eventually he could spread your fingers apart and hold your hands as if he were still alive. Eyeing his arms, you freed your right hand and began tracing the cuts The Grabber left. You could feel tears building with each wound, but you tilted your head down to hide the ones that threatened to spill. Michael took your chin with his now free left hand, bringing your face back up and illuminating the few strands of water running down your face.
“I’m- I’m sorry for acting like this…” you choked.
Michael ran his thumb over your trembling lips, ever so carefully replacing his thumb and stilling them with his own. He didn’t even realize his mouth had solidified until it was interlaced with yours, relaxing as you reciprocated the kiss.
After pulling away from your lips, Michael retreated back to the other side of the mattress, flopping down as his voice went back to speaking through the black telephone receiver.
“Act quickly. Or that may be the last good memory you’ll have.”
Still in a daze, you looked up to the ceiling and replayed the moment the two of you just shared.
“I SAID GET UP OFF YOUR ASS!”
The line disconnected, but you could still hear his scream rattling around in your mind long after that.