ShockingPsychic
He/Him- 2,893
- 1,020
"Ough... My head!"
Mike Munroe got to his feet, his vison slowly returning. The air was cold and his back was sore, so it was easy to tell he wasn't in the best mood. As he steadied himself, Mike got a good look at his surroundings. It looked like some old grocery store, but the lights were dim and there was barely any food left on the shelves -- not to mention the lack of people. He didn't remember drinking last night, and even if he did, he'd never gotten this black-out drunk before. Was this a nightmare?
"Ough! Back too... back's worse, actually..."
Nightmares didn't typically come with backpain. How long had he been asleep on this cold, hard tile flooring?
Stretching, Mike picked up a can of tuna. No expiration date, but he wasn't about to take his chances with it. He sat the can back onto the shelf just in time to hear a noise come from the other end of the store. The sound made him jump. Without making a sound, Mike ducked behind the shelf he was standing next to. As he crouched, a curious sight reached his eyes. A duffel bag was sitting right at his feet...
"Hoo..." Mike smiled nervously. "Come to papa..."
Inside was an array of familiar weapons. A shotgun, machete, and revolver rested inside the bag alongside boxes of ammo. Come to think of it, these weapons looked exactly the same as the ones he used during that horrible night at the mountain.
He couldn't complain though.
Mike got his items sorted, and as if on cue, another sound rang out. Mike popped out from behind the shelf, his shotgun trained on the source of the sound. He didn't expect to see a can of dogfood rolling across the floor.
"Huh?"
Mike stared at the rolling can before seeing something much bigger move in the corner of his eye. Mike swiveled to face the motion, only to be met with two identical figures. They wore dark robes that sparkled under the dim fluorescent lights alongside pale, droopy masks. Knives gleamed in their grip.
"Hey." Mike teased. "You're freakin' creepy, you know that?"
The two figures exchanged glances before darting in opposite directions. Mike shot his shotgun, missing both the figures and instead knocking over a shelf full of bread.
"Ohhh-kay, here we go, Mike, here we go..."
Mike Munroe got to his feet, his vison slowly returning. The air was cold and his back was sore, so it was easy to tell he wasn't in the best mood. As he steadied himself, Mike got a good look at his surroundings. It looked like some old grocery store, but the lights were dim and there was barely any food left on the shelves -- not to mention the lack of people. He didn't remember drinking last night, and even if he did, he'd never gotten this black-out drunk before. Was this a nightmare?
"Ough! Back too... back's worse, actually..."
Nightmares didn't typically come with backpain. How long had he been asleep on this cold, hard tile flooring?
Stretching, Mike picked up a can of tuna. No expiration date, but he wasn't about to take his chances with it. He sat the can back onto the shelf just in time to hear a noise come from the other end of the store. The sound made him jump. Without making a sound, Mike ducked behind the shelf he was standing next to. As he crouched, a curious sight reached his eyes. A duffel bag was sitting right at his feet...
"Hoo..." Mike smiled nervously. "Come to papa..."
Inside was an array of familiar weapons. A shotgun, machete, and revolver rested inside the bag alongside boxes of ammo. Come to think of it, these weapons looked exactly the same as the ones he used during that horrible night at the mountain.
He couldn't complain though.
Mike got his items sorted, and as if on cue, another sound rang out. Mike popped out from behind the shelf, his shotgun trained on the source of the sound. He didn't expect to see a can of dogfood rolling across the floor.
"Huh?"
Mike stared at the rolling can before seeing something much bigger move in the corner of his eye. Mike swiveled to face the motion, only to be met with two identical figures. They wore dark robes that sparkled under the dim fluorescent lights alongside pale, droopy masks. Knives gleamed in their grip.
"Hey." Mike teased. "You're freakin' creepy, you know that?"
The two figures exchanged glances before darting in opposite directions. Mike shot his shotgun, missing both the figures and instead knocking over a shelf full of bread.
"Ohhh-kay, here we go, Mike, here we go..."
Mike Munroe Vs. Ghostface (1996)
Both are 9-C
Mike has dealt with 1v2 before, should be pretty even???
The Ghostfaces do not have their optional equipment firearms... unless they need those to make it fair.
MIKE MUNROE: 7
GHOSTFACE:
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