I woke up to a sleeping Michael, snoring away. His arms were tightly wrapped around me along with the black silk sheets.
"Michael," I whisper, trying to wake him up.
"Mmmmhhh," he murmured, stirring a little bit before burying his face into his pillow. When he moved, his arms were no longer wrapped around me. I decided not to wake him up and get out of bed.
"Fuck!" I whisper shout, as I step out of bed. I forgot about the cut on my foot. It's feeling better at least, just a sharp pain when I put too much pressure on it.
I carefully tiptoe across the bedroom trying not to wake Michael to find my bra and underwear. I find my bra at the edge of the bed and my underwear hanging off a bonsai tree that's in the corner of the room. That's pleasing...
I slip them on and go into the bathroom to wash my face. Maybe I could make breakfast for him in bed in a few. I turn on the lights and it felt as if there was no difference. I thought Michael's room was dark, but I guess I was wrong because this bathroom is dim as fuck. But it had enough light where you could see yourself clearly in the mirrors.
I walk over to the double sinks and twist on the faucet, letting water fall through. I dip my finger in checking if it was warm enough and splash some of it on my face.
I wonder if he has a new pack of toothbrushes in here? If not then maybe in the guest room. I open a drawer in the vanity and found one in the packet. Not only did I find a toothbrush in that drawer, I also found bottles of lube and boxes of condoms in there, which made me roll my eyes to the back of my head.
I take the tube of toothpaste that was on the counter and squirt some on the brush, you know just doing normal things you would when you wake up.
When I was done, I looked myself into the massive mirror. I pull all my hair to one side of my neck and look at the hickeys Michael left on me yesterday. I run my fingers over them, smiling. I still can't believe that happened.
Suddenly a pair of tattooed arms wraps around my waist, pushing me into the countertop. I look into the mirror and see Michael putting his head on my shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses along my shoulder.
"I wish I could wake up to this every single morning," he whispered, emphasizing the last three words. He was still a bit sleepy.
"Yeah me too," I blush, leaning my head onto his. I follow the the direction of his eyes in the mirror to see what he's looking at. They were on my neck, he smiled knowing he left his mark. But that smile soon turned into a smirk away as his eyes traveled down my body.
His fingers run over the bruises on my stomach, hips, thighs, and anything else. I eyebrows come together and does his face.
"Did I do that to you?" He asks, lowering his eyes to look at my lower body with that same smirk on his face.
"Yeah," I blush and close my eyes, reliving the memories of last night.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he says and kisses the bruises on my hips, "but it feels so good to show that your body is mine and mine only."
"I didn't feel any pain at all last night, other than when you... you know. I loved every part of it, I wouldn't change but for the world," I assure him.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"I liked it okay, so you don't have to stop. Plus I kinda did the same to you," I chuckle, turning his back to the mirror, making him look at the scratches I left of his back last night.
"You like it?" he smirks, "well I like that too, very much." Pointing out to his back. He faces me and holds both my hands, "I love you."
His face dropped after I didn't say anything for a couple seconds.
"Do you not love me back?" He asked seriously, holding my hands tighter.
"No, I-I do love you, Michael," I sheepishly say. His face went from serious into a smile in a matter of seconds. He grabbed the sides of my face and pulling in for a long sweet kiss.
"Now that's what I want to hear," he smirks, looking into my eyes, "I am going to take a shower now, care to join?"
"You see, I would love to but i'd rather go eat downstairs," I laugh, running out bathroom to the stairs.
"You're missing out!" He shouts, making me chuckle. I hear him turn on the water and get into the shower when I go down the stairs. I head to the kitchen and decide on making breakfast for both of us. I open the fridge and pull out some eggs and bacon to start cooking. After the eggs are done, I put the bacon into the oven. Since it's gonna take some time, I just lean against the counter.
I notice the spot where Michael threw the bottle was all clean. The maids must have cleaned everything up early this morning. I walk closer to it to get a better look at the wall. There's a dent in there from the bottle. I turn back to check on the bacon when a little bit of light catches the corner of my eye. The little bit of light shining from down the dark hall.
I squint my eyes to see if what i'm seeing is actually real or just a trick in my mind. It's not, the door is actually fucking open. Michael must have been down here after the maids left when I was sleeping and forgot to lock the door. I look back in the direction of stairs and hear the water still running from the shower.
I walk slowly down the hall, unsure of the decision that i'm making. I reach the door and push it open. My eyes widen. My skin shivers. My mouth hangs open. I don't feel like i'm in a romance movie anymore, it's a horror movie now. Walls taped with pictures of people and maps with locations and tracings. Tables with knives, pistols, chainsaws, anything that can kill you.
One of pictures that caught my eye on the map was of Nathan Prescott. Meaning Michael found out it was him. The picture was a polaroid of him on the college campus, walking out the gym after his practice. On another wall were also polaroids of people but these had X's over them in red sharpie and dates written on them. Oh my god, and they're all fucking dead. The recent one being... Cole Drews, the waiter who flirted with me. Now I know what the dates meant, they were death dates.
I put my hand over my mouth to quiet my sobs. How is this possible? No wonder why Michael's so angry all the time for no reason, or very controlling. He's a psychopath. My eyes go up the polaroids and another two caught my eye.
Joseph and Katherine Jackson.
And now is when I start bawling. How could he kill his own parents? He lied to me about how they past away. Who in their right mind would ever do anything like this? Just looking at all the blood in pictures made me want to throw up. But why did he do this?
In the corner of the room I see a rusty old filing cabinet with a few files laying on top of it. I pick up the first one.
NATHAN PRESCOTT
DOB: 01/15/00
I open it up and see more pictures of him, newspaper articles about him playing football, legal documents, and some notes.
I know he's the one that touched my baby. How many times do I have to say she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, am I going fucking crazy here?? I might just let him go after I'm done torturing him, since I know his father and all...and if he's nice with me.
Wait, so Nathan's alive. That's why he doesn't have a X on his Polaroid on the wall. But... where is he? Enough about Nathan, he's alive. I need to find out more about Michael's parents and why he did that. I looked at the other file that I also found.
LISA MARIE JACKSON
DOB: 02/01/88
But 'JACKSON' was crossed out in black ink and replaced with 'PRESLEY'. Maybe it's his sister. Or was. God please don't tell me he killed her too.
I open the file and see pictures of a women with mahogany hair and green eyes. I flip through more and find a wedding certificate and a divorce certificate. Forget what I said about them being siblings.
MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE
MICHEAL JACKSON
LISA MARIE PRESLEY-JACKSON
MARRIED: 05/26/17
DIVORCE CERTIFICATE
MICHAEL JACKSON
LISA MARIE PRESLEY-JACKSON
DIVORCED: 09/17/18
REASON: IRRECONCILABLE DIFFERENCES
They divorced 3 months before I met him. Not only am I dating a psychopath, but a psychopath that was once married before. I skim through more and find a piece of paper with a number on it, must be hers. What if I'll need it? I fold it up and shove it in my bra. Now onto the note.
A women that loved me. She had learned my secrets when we wed, she had to know for she was my wife. But she couldn't handle that things she knew I had done. So she left, and I let it happen. Yes I could have killed her, I should have, but I loved her too much.
After I'm done reading those I put them back down in the same spot I found them. All the files of his victims are most likely in these cabinets. I pull one of the drawers in the cabinet open and a piece of paper laid on top of many files.
I, Michael Joseph Jackson, in my own free will, do affirm and dedicate my soul, my mind, and body to you, satan, as a dedicated worshipper. I confirm that a pact with you is my most heartfelt desire and the beauty and intensity of this is manifested by my flowing blood. I will do anything to own Jackson Industries. M.J.
It was written in blood... Michael's blood, to the fucking devil? Fuck, this guy's an actual nut job. He was so hungry for power he did whatever he could to get it... even selling his soul. I drop the paper and shove the drawer shut and bless myself. I do not fuck with demons.
I was so into reading the files I didn't realize there was another door in the room. I turn around and see a door that's padded for some reason? I quietly walk to the door and open it.
"Nathan?" I whisper. There he was, tied to a chair, with a deep bloody hole in his thigh. For a second I even thought he was dead.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" I worryingly ask, dropping down in front of his to see his face.
"We have to get out of here! He's fucking crazy! Please untie me!" He groans out in pain. I did what he says and use my trembling hands to untie the rope behind the chair.
"What happened to your leg?" I cried out. He widens his eyes and covers my mouth with his hands.
"Shhh... don't cry, he stuck a knife in me but I managed to squirm around and get out," he whispered, pointing at the bloody knife on the ground, "we are going to run from this place, okay?" He whispers. He gets up from the chair and starts limping around.
"But, I can't just leave him, if I-I do he's not just going to come for me, but also you," I stammered.
"Sahara are you crazy, he would've killed you anyways!" He stated, pulling me off the ground.
"I don't care if you're his fuck buddy, okay?" He pulled me out out of the room into the hallway, closing the door along the way.
"But you're losing a lot of blood," I argued.
"And you're practically nake-,"
"Wait," I cut him off. The water upstairs turned off, meaning Michael's done with his shower.
"Nathan, we have to go now. He's going to kill us!"