Inheritance [Michael Jackson FanFiction]

Chapter 5

Michaels POV

Grace's soft snoring told me she was out like a light. I glanced at her, seeing her face all relaxed in sleep. It was good to see. She trusted me to keep an eye out, and I wasn't about to let her down.

I shifted in my bedroll, feeling the cold seep through my blanket. The night was quiet, except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. I rubbed my hands together, trying to keep warm.

I reached into my coat pocket, fingers searching until they found the familiar shape of my cigar case. I fumbled slightly, trying to find a steady surface to light one. Finally, I managed to steady the match against a nearby rock and brought it to the tip of the cigar.

The flame flickered, casting a warm glow on my face as I took a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs. It was a small comfort in the darkness, a reminder of simpler times when all I had to worry about was where my next meal was coming from.

I leaned back against the hard ground, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the chilly air.

I looked around, checking for anything out of the ordinary. The night was alive with sounds ... owls hooting, leaves rustling .. but nothing seemed off, except for a weird feeling in my gut.

I took another drag from my cigar and as I watched the smoke curl into the night sky, I couldn't shake the feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach. It was a strange sensation, one that I couldn't quite put into words.

Maybe it was just my old instincts kicking in, leftover from my days running with the gang. Or maybe it was just my brain playing tricks on me, trying to scare me for no good reason.

But deep down, I knew better. I'd learned to trust that gut feeling a long time ago, and it had kept me alive more times than I could count.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore it as I scanned the surrounding darkness. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual sounds of the night. But still, my gut told me something wasn't right.

I furrowed my brow, trying to rationalize the feeling away. Maybe it was just the stress of the unknown future catching up to me. Or maybe it was just my own paranoia getting the better of me.

Then I heard it, faint but unmistakable .. the crackling of branches in the distance. Footsteps, maybe? I sat up straighter, my senses on high alert, ready to blow someone's brains out if I need to.

My first instinct was to reach for my gun, to prepare for whatever or whoever was approaching. But as I glanced over at Grace, I hesitated. I couldn't risk waking her. I didn't want to drag her into anything.

Instead, I pulled out my knife from my boot. It is silent but deadly, and in this moment, that was all I needed.

I stood up whilst gripping it tightly and started making my way in the same direction that the sound came from. I moved cautiously, using the cover of trees and bushes to keep myself hidden as I crept in the direction the sound had come from. Luckily, the ground beneath my boots was soft, muffling my footsteps as I moved.

Every muscle in my body was coiled like a spring, ready to unleash hell on anyone who dared cross me. The sound of footsteps in the distance only fueled the fire burning in me.

As I closed in on the source of the sound, the tension in the air grew thicker. I caught a glimpse of movement up ahead, a shadow flitting through the trees. Without hesitation, I crouched low, my senses on high alert. Whoever this son of a bitch was, they didn't know I was coming. And they were about to regret it.

Without warning, I lunged forward, the element of surprise on my side as I wrapped my hand around the stranger's mouth from behind, the cold steel of the knife pressing against their throat.