Michael Scofield Novels & Stories

Always answering. Later, when Richard stepped away to speak with investors, Michael moved through the crowd like smoke. He stopped beside me near the tall windows overlooking the glittering city, close enough that I caught the scent of his cologne, something dark and expensive. He started by talking about the weather but I ignored him. Finally, he faced me squarely. “So you’re the miracle worker who saved my brother’s life,” he said, voice low and smooth, laced with amusement. “Stacy right? He can’t stop singing your praises. It almost makes me jealous.”

Miranda had originally been worried about him, but she sensed that Mike wasn't actually in pain. His pained expression felt a bit forced, and she caught on immediately. She let out a quiet sigh. “Alright, stop acting.” Mike’s hand paused over his chest. He looked up with a helpless smile. “You caught me.” “Ms. Scott is a great girl,” Miranda said plainly. “She’s cheerful, warm, and incredibly accomplished.” Mike nodded without hesitation. “She’s indeed impressive, but—”

Stacy's POV The lie felt like ashes in my mouth, dry and crumbling. I forced the words out, keeping my voice flat. "I don't understand. The child died. I told you. There's nothing more to say." Michael didn't move from where he leaned against the grand staircase railing. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a few taps, he turned the screen toward me. "Take a look, Stacy. Or Eleanor. Whatever you're calling yourself these days."

MICHELLE ONE MONTH AGO "An offer to take over Thorn Industries. And if you know me very well, I don't mince words. Now, let me tell you how this plan is going to work." Callix's plan was sinister. But it was smart. And I never thought that man like him could be smart enough to think up something like that. It was like Michael Scofield of Prison Break and The Professor of Money Heist all rolled into one. "How long have you been planning this?" I had to ask.

Joseph remained buried in his phone while Brains stared intently at him,a gaze Michael couldn't help but notice. "Jayden?" Michael asked, trying to shake the strange, unsettling feeling creeping into his chest. "Went out to relax," Scott replied. Michael nodded, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs. "Where to?" "Have some important project to finish," he lied. His eyes began to blur, and he left immediately before they could see him stumble. Once outside, the cold air hit him. He placed a call to Cobra, who answered on the first ring. "I want you to search for Diana's mother..." A cold cough interrupted him, and he felt the warm, wet rush of blood streaming down his nose.

Their laughter is heard by the man in the hallway. In a semi dark room which is brightened from the hazy light of a disco ball, Michael is meeting Mr. Bullswood. They haven’t even begun talking when Mr. Bullswood’s body drops on the floor. “Damn it!” said Michael. He looked around him but couldn’t see anyone. It was just the two of them in the room. He checked his pulse and confirmed what he already knew. He is dead!

The dorm manager wasn't here and Ringo carefully tapped on the coffin. "Michael, it's me. Are you awake?" From inside the coffin, Michael didn't know if he was dreaming. That voice sounded very much like Ringo. Shouldn't the exorcist be in the infirmary? Even if he did wake up, why was he here and trying to hold a conversation? Shouldn't Ringo be trying to drive a stake through his chest by now?

Scott didn't have to look far, Michael had stayed right outside the door. "I thought I'd give you guys a moment, first." Michael said shyly. "He's asking to see you. Are you up for it?" Michael took a shuddering breath and squared his shoulders. "Ready as I'll ever be." Scott led him in with an a protectively around his shoulders. Michael did an impressive job keeping his emotions under control, but you could read the strain on his face, and his hands trembled noticeably. Scott waited until it seemed like they had a decent conversation going and had each other sufficiently distracted before he slipped out of the room to make a phone call. His parents needed to know what happened.

“Ah, here we are, “ the servant chirped, making it sound like a dismissal. They stood in front of a tall, wooden open door, and Michael didn’t need to peek inside to see it was something that resembled very much a dressing room. They have dressing rooms, Jesus. What is this, the Plaza? or Casino Royal, maybe? Michael thought. “There’s an evening suit prepared for you, Mr….?” “Scott. “ He provided quickly. "Michael Scott." It was the first time ever he’d given his real name on a mission. Well, this was most likely his last one, so he was starting to accept the facts for what they were.

He bowed and apologized profusely for the turbulence he had caused. "Oh Lord, what is he up to?" Scarlet pondered, taking off her hands from her ears. Michael was infamously known for being a notorious rabble rouser. It was the last day of college and she hoped he was not up to some sort of mischief. She bit her lip out of the growing worry in her heart.