#Infected Misfortune [Muse: Corey Cunningham]

[cxskxtsymptxm]

@lettherebemonsters cont;;

The head tilt is mimicked before he wrings his hands against his own shirt for a long moment. Clearing his throat, he gives an awkward glance over before daring to step closer. Upon getting closer, it should be noted he seems to be carrying a bag, with a very iconic mask peeking out and his throat has scarring as well.

With a more rough muttering, he speaks.

"Didn't you... Die?"

[cxskxtsymptxm]

SPECIFY the muse, please.

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒  (  prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver’s hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver’s hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver’s hair [ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver’s body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver’s body [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver’s body

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.

[ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sour ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender feeds receiver something spicy ( specify what ) [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what ) [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood [ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ―  sender gives receiver a taste of what they’re cooking / baking for their opinion

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver [ ��𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

[ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver [ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what ) [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc [ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver’s ear ( specify what ) [ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song [ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc ) [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep [ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc ) [ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place [ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them

𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋.

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver’s bath [ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver [ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek ) [ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel [ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation [ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil

[cxskxtsymptxm]

" I know there's still good in you, Corey. If I didn't, I would have shot you in the head and dumped you in the grinder with the bastard." (* tosses Laurie at Corey*)

The statement gets a bitter chuckle, shaking his head as hi lips purse with disbelief. Still GOOD in him? Oh, NOW there is still good in him? Where was that, Laurie, when he started down this path? No, instead of helping, you took away the one close fucking friend he had left... Someone he loved. You tried to take her away from him and expected to what... Have a happy ending?

The dark glint to his expression says it all as he brings a hand to his lips and starts to shake his head, pacing.

"No... Maybe there was when my closest friend-turned-girlfriend was allowed around, maybe there was before YOU tried to kick me to the curb... I'VE KNOWN YOUR GODDAMN FAMILY SINCE FRESHMAN YEAR. Hell.. Even longer.. And the moment I stumble, the moment I crack under pressure... You toss me aside. Good? Who cares about good anymore."

He drops his hand, scowling then with an angry, hurt look in his eyes.

"What did good ever do for me when I really needed it?"

[cxskxtsymptxm]

Don't talk about me like you might know how i feel.

For Corey Cunningham.

Right, because he doesn't know what it's like to be hunted down. Whether by the town or even during that fateful night in twenty-eighteen. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he chews on his thumbnail as his eyes look at her with a vague irritation. 'Might know how I feel?'

Preaching to the choir really, but unlike her story, he's becoming the killer. Once a survivor of the night with Michael during his first rampage, now he's welcomed the darkness in his heart and become what once used to send a shiver down his spine. Eventually, he replies as his roughened tone speaks out.

"Yeah, clearly I don't know. You watched your friends die, and almost died yourself... And it was made into a dark spectacle. Yeah, I don't know how you feel... Totally."

[cxskxtsymptxm]

" No way. I've got to be dreaming..."

( Corey, meet Corey. X3)

First a weird cult Michael and now a mirror image of himself. Is he high, is he black-out drunk? He just shakes his head, raising up his hands as he begins to walk away.

"No, no, and no. I already dealt with the weird telepathic Myers, I do not need a doppelganger. I'm going home, sleeping, and hopefully waking up from all of this."

[cxskxtsymptxm]

Breathing out harshly, he rubs his face a bit more, feeling annoyance nipping into his mind. Shifting a bit in his stance, he rubs at his neck, feeling the strain on the muscles, the beginning of bruising... God, he hates anything near his neck anymore.

Glaring at the other Shape, Corey sniffs and begins to walk over to him, lips pursed with confusion and anger. He wants answers and he wants them fucking now. He isn't... The small little punk everyone envisions him as, but he's the new Boogeyman... At least, that's what he thought. It's what he felt.

Michael is here now though, vastly different, but still the same in many ways.

Raising up a hand, he chews on his thumbnail a bit as he continues to glare down at the man. Just what was going on, was Michael possessing another body, was that possible- Did any of this make sense? He'spulling at straws and the memories of some 'cult' is... disturbing to say the least.

"You showed me things... They're different than when we met up again in the sewer.. WHY. I want answers, you old dick. What is that weird cult? Why did I see my mother in those? I thought you were locked up your entire life, only getting out when you were twenty-one... I don't get it."

This time it was Michael that was tossed backwards. The full force of another Shape enough to send him careening with a massive THUD on hard ground.

It took him a moment to sit up, grabbing his mask and slipping it on. He was tired of a constant fight if it didn't end in a kill. He glared at the pup, blood still dripping as he reached down and yanked the knife out, tossing it away from the area.

He had no clue what Corey was babbling about. He had no idea even HOW his memories were passed. Only his bloodline could read his mind....

How could this pup see what happened between him and the vessel? It had been the first and only time he mounted someone.

The dangers too great to allow Michael out of his cell to sire more young. He had been told his child had died in the womb.

But what if they hadn't....

[cxskxtsymptxm]

The sharpening gaze of anger and frustration, that darkness that shows before someone finally snaps... Yeah, he can see why people call it the devil's eyes or whatever. But he's not a devil, far from actually. Bring a hand to the back of his neck, he scratches idly as he chews on his bottom lip with a pursed expression.

"I don't know if you know my past, and I don't really... Care? I survived the Boogeyman, and when he disappeared and an accident happened? I became the new town Boogeyman... It's a shitty feeling, to be hated because of a mistake that wasn't even your fault, to be treated like a demon for breathing the same air as them. It's enough to drive a person mad..."

Still, he finally drops his hand and approaches her, offering it as he tries to offer an awkward smile.

"Alls forgiven okay... Want to, I don't know, get some chocolate milk or whatever you drink?"

Sidney said the statement out of anger and frustration.

" You're right, you're right, I'm sorry. "

Sidney's brows furrowed with guilt.

She couldn't imagine dawning the Ghostface mask herself, let alone deal with someone who doesn't seem to die.

Though something about him sent shivers down her own spine, she couldn't put her finger on it.

Maybe it was her paranoia messing with her, or it was the look in his eyes lately... quite similar to how Billy looked on her own faithful night.

That feral, yet calm anger look. She knew it well.

Though she's never met the Boogeyman himself ( and she really doesn't want to ) she admitted her mistakes on ' he wouldn't understand. ' statement.

" It's a shitty feeling that still haunts me. It always goes back to the original, you know. "

[cxskxtsymptxm]

Stepping closer, he looks at mostly the coveralls then the mask before arching up a brow. His voice is still grated and torn compared to what it's supposed to be. It's almost as if this little pup might have more going on. "I read.. the newsletter... They put you in a fucking metal grinder... Are you just someone pretending to be him? That's not really funny."

Frowning, he looks around to see if maybe this is some kind of prank, eyes growing darker as he chews on the inside of his cheek a bit. Something didn't feel right, some asshole walking around as the big bad original Boogeyman made him... angry.

It gnaws and digs into the back of his skull as he breathes out a grunted sigh.

"Don't disrespect the dead... You never know who you'll piss off by doing that."

Die? He didn't die. He couldn't die. The curse that had imprinted deep in him since long before he was even a thought was making sure its champion wouldn't know death.

He was old now, his body battered and scarred.....but he was far from done. Not when he still had someone out there that carried his blood in them.

Michael felt the brand on his wrist burn, but he ignored it. As long as this brat stayed away he had no reason to attack him. Though seeing a mask almost identical to his own earned Corey a grunt from the killer.

Cute.....the pup honestly thought he could be worthy to wear a face like his. He'd have laughed if his vocal cords weren't so badly atrophied.

[cxskxtsymptxm]

A lot of this felt like nonsense, it all felt wrong. What also felt wrong, was the sudden VOICE in his fucking head. His shoulders stiffen as he reaches up and scratches the inside of his ear to try and get the voice out. Looking around, he vaguely assumes someone else is talking before his eyes fall on Michael again.

"How... What's Thorn? What." Sister? The Judith incident, what other family did he have? He vaguely recalls the other's parents dying in a car wreck so he's not exactly sure what this 'voice' meant by all family. Also 'making' him do things to... He didn't even want to think about that.

That was sincerely messed up and the darkness in his own eyes fades as he frowns and looks down to the ground.

"Look... Uh, I've got no idea... And you're pretty prone to attack first and ask questions later but... Just what is going on?"

If Corey was confused, Michael was even more confused. Just what the Hell was going on?!

To the Shape, Corey was rambling nonsense. The only sewers Michael ventured to connected to his house, and the old Sanitarium had a labrynth of tunnels allowing him to travel for miles undetected.

He never saw this kid there. He only remembered the child stolen from him. The child he spent years searching for.

His mental voice rasped out almost choppy. Very rudimentary, more like a child than an adult.

Thorn released me. Hunt sister. Kill all family. Cult wanted new Shape...Made me do things.....to make children.

[cxskxtsymptxm]

His jaw nearly drops, looking at him as his eyes are filled with shock, mouth hanging open before he has to actually respond properly. Gnashing his jaw tight, teeth clenched, Corey begins to try and pry those damned hands off of his neck. His airflow is being cut off, his face reddening the longer he struggles with it. The flow of imagery has him out of sorts, scrambling for purchase as he fights.

The damages to the man's face are so much different than what he is used to seeing that he's at a loss for words. Strength coils and he begins to actively fights more, beginning to actually pry the other's hands off of his throat.

When he sees... The vessel, the fight only goes more as he actively pushes and goes to shove the other OFF of him.

"WHAT-- THE FUCK. Did you... Fuck my mother??? How... WHAT." There's actual confusion mixed with the survivor's anger, eyes remaining dark despite the information he's been handed.

Rubbing his face, he breathes out and shakes his head. "I'm... done. I want... an explanation... You aren't... the Michael I know... you aren't the same... What is going ON."

The knife jammed through the mark, between the bones of his wrist, impaling Michael. The added impalement stunned the killer just long enough for the mask to be yanked off. And the sight was a pure shock.

Without the mask....he looked just like the deceased Shape. Only the burns were more horrific. He kept both eyes but one set deep in mangled flesh as if someone had repeatedly stabbed him in the eye.

Gunshot marks to the face, cuts and strangulation scars across his neck.....it was as if every thing that had hurt the other Shape had been dialed up to the maximum for this one.

His black eyes held rage even though his expression remained stoic. He didn’t need his mask to kill.....he just preferred keeping his face covered. 

Hands now gripping Corey’s throat, crushing the young pup.....as memories of his days locked away in the basement of Smiths Grove flowed. Things that were both horrific and disgusting.

Things done against his will as the cult watched. The hooded faces eagerly watching new life created between Thorn's favorite and a chosen vessel....

A vessel that was all too familiar to Corey....

[cxskxtsymptxm]

"No, I don't mean after that. I MEAN when I first came to you after being tossed off a bridge. What, because my eyes were darker you immediately went down the 'Push him away' path. I had nearly DIED, just like the night of Halloween when Michael FIRST got out a few years ago... But you just looked at me like I killed your daughter myself."

Shaking his head, he laughs bitterly before breathing out. "I didn't say you killed them, and in fact, I didn't kill my dad either. That was actually a misfire from that band bully... Shot him in the head. My mother, however..."

The words drop to a growl before he drops it and fidgets with his shirt sleeve a bit.

"Doesn't matter. They all deserved it anyway, you can't hurt someone over and over and not expect something to happen right? But I'm the psycho... That's what I'm seen as, and that's what I'll BE."

Laurie had spent her entire life in fear. She had spent her daughter's life a drunk, willing to push her family away to prepare for the monster that she knew was coming for her.

She had tried to let go. She had to change after losing her daughter, her home, her son in law....her friends. She lost everyone but her granddaughter.....

All because she wanted to kill her Boogeyman.....and she did.

But his death was...cold. There had been nothing of the triumph she had craved. All she felt....was sadness. Sadness as she slit Michael's wrists....slashed his throat. And held him as he bled out. Probably the only time anyone had dared touch the killer as a human....and not an animal.

She just looked at Corey, having no fear. How could she have fear after having Michael's blood splattered all over her.

" I didn't toss you aside. You did that to yourself. I wasn't the one who made you do what you did to those people. But like Hell was I letting Allyson go through what I did with Michael.

What you want to do with your life is your business. I can't stop you. But I can stop you from trying to take anyone else down with you. I didn't kill your family....you did that all on your own. "

[cxskxtsymptxm]

That was-- FUCK! Being thrown off of him stirs something more in Corey as his eyes continue to darken with agitation. It hurt but his body took it... Reminding him of the power he now possessed. When Michael died in that grinder, it was as if everything latched and gave Corey all of the strength.

He didn't realize it then, and he doesn't realize it now but that is exactly how he was able to survive with the neck injury he now had. Watching the display, he readies himself up, blade bloodied with fresh blood as he begins to coil up.

Curly locks are snatched up by burned hands but he responds in kind by impaling the mark once more, before letting go of the knife to properly grab at the other's mask to rip it off.

"I'm not... some VICTIM! I'm not going to let you... kill me. Not today." His words are hissed out, his throat feeling as if it's on fire as he glares deep into the other's eyes. The mask is different, he's noticing... The lack of missing fingers... Either this is a drugged-out copycat or... Something is wrong here.

The burn on his wrist was a mark of his enslavement. Like a shackle the curse had that proved who owned The Shape. The knife slashing through the mark triggered a reaction out of Michael as he physically threw Corey far from him.

The throw was brutal and bone-jarring as the Shape was momentarily stripped of the collar that held control of him. It was like ice being dumped onto a fire....the chill rippling through him, his body reacting as he was shaking. Almost convulsing.

The curse reaffirming its hold, subjugating Michael. In probably the first time in decades.....Michael’s black eyes flickered back to the brought ocean blue they once were.

Back when he was an innocent.....an innocent eventually sold to give a disturbed old man the immortality he hungered for.

Michael managed to walk to Corey, his scarred hand huge as he grabbed the young pup by the hair and yanked him fully off the ground. The burned hand wasn’t missing fingers....this was a far different creature than the Boogeyman that Corey had known.

[cxskxtsymptxm]

SHIT---

He tries to scramble back, lips curling into a snarl as he immediately begins to kick against the other. When he sees all the flashes, his eyes widen and the struggle grows stronger as one hand goes to dig into one of the other's wrists while the other digs into his bag to pull out the old knife.

These memories, he didn't understand any of these, but he understands the AGONY behind them. As those play, his own memories slip out, muddled and out of focus as he recalls all of his own, and meeting his Michael. His... mentor?

"GE---GET OFF!" The knife is finally grabbed and he goes to stab into the other's wrists to try and dislodge him. He doesn't know where he's stabbing, or how it might affect things but where it is directly where the thorn mark is.

Michael's head snapped to attention, immediately catching the pup's attitude. If there was something he never tolerated was a young blood trying to assert dominance.

He was the top predator. No newly whelped youngling was going to treat him, the Shape, as second best.

His vision was turning red as his eyes started to darken. They went from a dark blue to pitch black....the devil's eyes.

His brand was on fire as a low, primordial growl rumbled from deep in his chest and throat. Almost like a pulse seemed to reverberate from The Shape, and a rasping voice through the mind echoed out.

I will never die. But you will.

And moving too fast to see....he rushed Corey. Nails like talons easily able to tear flesh, eyes black. When his scarred, burned hands touched the younger man.....a life time of agony erupted.

Memories....memories of Thorn whispering lies. Of his father's violence. Of being locked away, tears streaming as he never saw his family again.

Of fire, of anger. Of the old doctor sneering at him....people in robes dragging him away in chains.

In a second, he made Corey relive decades of Hell. He wanted this child to know what it meant to piss off a true monster before he died.