You woke up with a horrible migraine. Sitting up slowly you noticed it was dark outside. "Shit" you cursed under your breath as you tried to stand up from your bed. Your knees buckled underneath your weight. The Shape stood in the doorway of your room. "How long was I out?" You asked. He simply handed you your phone. You read the screen with wide eyes. "I missed an entire fucking day?!" You yelled. "I'm so going to be fired." To this the killer shook his head. You opened your texts and there was a conversation between you and your employers. Michael had used your finger to open the phone and tell both your jobs that you had fallen down a steep hill when someone pushed you and that you were too bruised to come into work for a few days.
Luckily for you both employers weren't pushing for evidence. Sidney, the owner of the diner you worked at in the mornings was concerned and texted many times about how you should go to the police and get checked out at the hospital. While this was very sweet you reassured the woman that you would be okay and just needed rest. Jason was the owner of a local woodsy shop. They only worked there because Jason was a family friend. He was less concerned about the injuries you had acquired but still told you to call him if you needed anything. He was a rather stoic man that didn't show emotion often and he definitely loved the wilderness.
After a few minutes of gathering yourself and your thoughts you decided a shower was in order. The grime from the other day made them feel uncomfortable. Slowly but surely they made their way to the bathroom and gasped when they saw their reflection in the mirror. Bruises were everywhere. A particularly bad one shone brightly on their right side jaw. Deep purple and blue marked the spot that had been punched more than once. The human turned the water to warm and after undressing stepped in. The water stung against open scrapes and cuts from the fight. (Y/N) slowly sunk to the ground of the shower and tried to muffle a sob as realization from that day set in. That man Jack could've killed you, he would've if Michael hadn't shown up. You didn't want to admit it but you weren't strong enough to fight a fully grown man off. Sobs racked your body as you sat curled up with your knees to your chest. The fear that flooded your body during the fight came rushing back as images of Jack flashed in your mind. He looked feral at that moment.
Two hours passed before you could manage to work up enough energy to get out of the warmth of the shower. Cool air hit your bare wet skin causing you to shiver. Standing in front of the mirror you took another look at the bruises. Part of you was trying so hard to forget what happened but you knew pushing it down wouldn't help in the long run. To some extent you felt numb. Putting on warm comfortable lounging clothes you made your way to the couch in the living room, where you proceeded to plop on the couch. Turning on the TV you noticed Michael standing in the hallway. He went to the kitchen and grabbed you a glass of cold water. Happily you took it and drank sips as you both watched the tv. On it was some older cartoon, it was entertaining enough that you didn't want to change the channel yet.
The large murderer gestured to you as if asking how you were feeling. "I'm okay for the most part, just a lot of pain. It'll take a little time for me to fully bounce back. Thank you by the way for saving my life." You responded. Saving lives was something so foreign to the shape and hearing that made his skin crawl. He didn't want you dying but he's also supposed to be a cold hearted killer that doesn't save lives.
