Number One Fan - Trickster x Reader

XV

Breathing in shakily, you cupped a hand over your mouth. A dark shadow slid past your view and you desperately attempted to quiet your breathing. You were currently camping out in a locker, hiding from Michael Myers. This was the day you'd been dreading since first arriving in the Entity's realm: a match against the spawn of Satan of himself.

One by one, your friends had fallen to the brutal killer's knife. He'd been slow and meticulous in stalking you all until only one remained.

You knew you had to move soon. If Michael couldn't find you then he'd begin searching the lockers. Luckily, you picked up a few abilities for yourself, one of them dampening the amount of noise you made while moving quickly. Making use of the perk, you rushed from the locker and sprinted out of the old, dilapidated Myers home. Breaking out onto the grass, you whipped from side to side, searching for an escape of any kind. You were beginning to get a hang on how things worked, however that didn't mean you were guaranteed to escape.

"Probably should keep moving..." you whispered to yourself.

Creeping forward, you clung to the bushes, hoping the foliage would keep you out of sight. Listening closely, you checked for any signs of footsteps or breathing nearby. When nothing could be heard, you darted across the street, diving behind a busted police car. Red and blue lights swirled on your pale face as you gasped. A flash of white appeared at a nearby hedge and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you took off down the road, scrambling towards an ambulance left askew. The sound of metal clashing banged from somewhere behind you and you quickened pace.

Heavy footsteps thudded against concrete and you felt your skin prickling. Jumping towards the ambulance, your ankle rolled and you collapsed in a heap on the ground. A dark shadow loomed over you as large fingers dug into your shoulders. A scream wrenched from your gut as you were lifted clear into the air. Michael gripped you by the collar of your jacket, slamming your back into the metal of the van. Pain shot up your spine, causing tears to spring into your eyes. He held you there, the black soulless pits of his eyes staring at you silently. His large kitchen knife was raised slightly and you couldn't predict whether he was going to throw you on a meat hook or finish you off himself.

Sobbing quietly, you braced for whatever may come.

A soft grunt sounded from the killer and he seemed to be shuffling in a pocket of his suit. Opening your eyes wider, a hot tear slid down your frigid cheek. Curiosity filled your gaze and you stopped struggling, laying limp in his grip. The man was so strong he had you pinned with a single arm. You didn't want to know what other sorts of destruction he could cause.

After a moment, Michael withdrew a crumpled sheet of paper and tossed you roughly to the ground. You let out a whimper as he leaned over you, his shadow swallowing your body whole. Snatching your hand violently, he shoved the paper into your palm. Absolute fear bulged in your eyes through the whole process and you allowed him to force your fingers shut around the paper.

Once he was sure you had a tight hold, he raised his knife high in the air. Squeezing both eyes shut, you grit your teeth and braced. A few seconds passed and the blow didn't come, so you slowly lifted one eyelid. Michael had his knees straddling your waist, the knife stuck in midair. Grunting again, his head tilted to the side with a gradual, decisive movement. The killer was savoring your death, reveling in these final moments of your pain. He wanted you to watch as he finished you off, waiting for both of your eyes to open before plunging the knife into your stomach. Warm, wet liquid pooled around the torn fabric of your shirt. You let out a soft wheeze, watching Michael stare at you through his mask.

This shit was going to hurt later.

The life ebbed from your gaze and the white of Myers's mask faded from view. The last thing you saw was him pointing at your clasped hand with a large, pale finger.

Moments later, you burst awake by the campfire. A few nearby survivors checked in with you briefly, making sure you were ok.

"(Y/n)!" Laurie called out gleefully, "You're back!" Sauntering to your side, she reached out a hand to help you up. Concern stitched on her brows. "You ok? You look pale!"

Placing a hand on your head, you shook it incredulously. "Yeah. I...I think Myers gave me a gift."

"What?" both her eyebrows rose in shock and she went slack jawed. "Really?"

Shakily, you carefully removed the paper from your grasp. Laurie helped you over to a fallen log the survivors often used to sit and rest. Lowering your trembling form onto the bark, she allowed you to lean your body weight against her. Giving a silent thanks, you smoothed out the paper against the log. It appeared to be a drawing of some sort. Sloppy lines filled the page and the two of you squinted to make out its content.

Out of the blue, two arms snaked down your shoulders and a voice said, "What are you looking, sweetie?"

"Dwight!" you gasped, a slight blush forming on your face. When did he start calling you "sweetie?"

"It's a drawing from Michael," Laurie answered for you, worry evident in the tone.

"Oh?" The small grin slipped from the man's gentle face and a frown pressed on his lips. "Myers gave you a drawing?"

Shaking your head, you mumbled. "I don't really know what it is..."

One side of the paper was filled with messily colored trees while the other side had several cabins scribbled in with rough, brown lines. Two stick figures were immersed in the crayon forest. The left figure looked like it was holding the Legion's white mask and the right figure had a mess of silver lines scribbled atop his head.

"That looks like our camp..." Dwight gasped, his features paling.

"It has to be a coincidence!" Laurie argued, shaking her head back and forth. Strands of blonde curls slapped her face each time.

However, you were finding trouble paying attention to their conversation. Instead, your gaze fell to the stick figures in the forest. The silver scribbles were an odd choice. Was it meant to be hair? There was only one person you knew with silver hair...

"And the stick figures just look like killers he knows!"

You faded back into the conversation, just barely catching Laurie's comment.

"It looks like he drew people he knows in a familiar setting. I'd imagine that's normal for an unstable serial killer."

"All the same," Dwight huffed, wrapping his fingers around your shoulders. "I don't like this."

"Should we call an emergency meeting?" the blonde suggested fretfully.

"No," sighing, Dwight began rubbing circles into your skin, however the motion seemed more to calm himself rather than you. "Everyone has enough to worry about right now." Leaning down, he rested his chin on your shoulder and whispered softly, "Honey? Can I confiscate this?"

Before you could answer, he was already reaching down, scooping up the drawing.

"Dwight," you grabbed his hand, stopping his action abruptly. "Don't do anything crazy, ok?"

"(Y/n)," he pressed his lips against your cheek but his tone was not soft. It was more of a warning. "Do you really think this drawing is a random coincidence?"

Sucking in air through your teeth, you allowed him to confiscate the drawing. Laurie gave you a side glance, a bit of sadness pooling in her deep blue eyes. It was beginning to become clear that some of the killers were up to no good and Ji-Woon was right in the center of it.

Drawing back, the leader shoved the paper in his front pocket and placed a hand on Laurie's shoulder. "Not a word of this to anyone else."

She nodded quietly in response and the both of you watched Dwight disappear from the campfire's glowing light.

Discomfort flared in your stomach and you shifted in place on the log. That strange burning sensation welled in your chest, akin to the small flame of a candle. It wasn't strong but it was there, waxing and waning, changing in intensity.

Ji-Woon was somewhere nearby, but where you could never know, and that alone scared you shitless.