Michael Jackson Imagines

Thriller Night (Part 2/2)

You ran for your life. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears was almost as loud as the sound of your feet pounding against the pavement. Michael tightly gripped your hand in his own. You looked at him. His eyes were wide with terror, but there was a determination in the firmness of his grip that told you he wouldn't let anything harm you if he could help it. A surge of courage swept through you. No matter what, you wouldn't let anything harm him either. But right now, all you could do was run.

The street stretched ahead of you as far as you could see, but as the two of you ran farther, a horrifying realization swept over you: the street was a dead end, blocked by a tall, chain link fence. Michael noticed this too, and both of you stared at the fence with a look of wild fear and desperation.

"Michael, what do we do?" you half-shrieked.

"Keep running!" There was no other option.

As you reached the end of the street, you were relieved to find that the street turned to the right. Michael smiled with reprieve and turned to you, his determination returning. "C'mon, let's go!" The two of you ran faster than ever, racing down the street. You stole a quick glance over your shoulder. The zombies that had risen from the cemetery were still chasing you, but they moved with slow, staggering steps. You and Michael would have no problem outrunning them. For a second, you felt safe and a little confident . . . but only for a second. That's when Michael screamed.

You whipped back around and gasped in horror. "Oh my God," you cried, clasping your hand over your mouth. Warm tears dripped down your cheeks and over your hands. A horde of zombies was approaching from the front. Their arms were outstretched, barely covered by ragged, muddy clothes. If the two of you had ran more than five more steps, you would have run right into those rotting arms. Their fingers, bony, rotting fingers, reached out to grab any source of food they could grasp, and you knew they had their sights set on you. Their low, gargled moans sliced through the thick silence of the night, the sound of your death. You looked behind you once more and felt your stomach flip over. The horde of zombies from the cemetery were gaining on you. In less than a minute they would be on top of you. All hope vanished. You were surrounded.

Michael stood in front of you protectively, grabbing your hand again. His whole body was shaking. He faced the zombies approaching from the front, and you pressed your back against his, facing the zombies approaching from the back. You felt like you were just waiting to be devoured, frozen in fear like a mouse cornered by a cat, but you weren't going down without a fight.

"What do we do, Michael?!" No answer. Suddenly, he pulled away from you so that you could no longer feel him against you. You turned to face him. "Michael?"

The first thing you saw was his brown eyes. Those hadn't changed, but everything else about his appearance had. His beautiful eyes were sunken into deep, dark sockets, like diamonds glistening at the bottom of a well. His skin, once dark and smooth, now had a sickly greenish-yellow hue, the color of rotting flesh. His cheek bones were hollowed, his lips cracked, and his clothes tattered and dirty, like they had been aged one hundred years. He was one of them . . . a zombie.

You jumped back a couple feet in horror at the sight. The color drained from your face and your eyes burned with tears. Michael. Oh God . . . not Michael. You wanted to collapse on the spot, to sob and scream with hopelessness and terror, but you knew that was not an option. You had to survive. Michael would have wanted that. Well, the Michael you once knew. Now, zombie Michael was reaching out to grab you with a savage look in his eyes. You ducked quickly, evading his grasp. You frantically searched for an escape route, but the zombies had you cornered now, your back pressed against the chain link fence. Then, it hit you. The fence. You turned around and eyed the fence, debating whether you would be able to climb it. It was tall, but what other choice did you have?