His Girl - Michael Myers x Reader {NEW Rewrite (2022)}

✗ Chapter 36: Purposely Playing-House ✗

Michael forced you away from the basement door, his malicious jealousy and possessive personality taking over him completely. Your friend this, your friend that, why did you care so much about this Ali girl...? She wasn't your best friend - he was. She was the one starting to separate you two - it was her fault that you didn't care about Michael. It was her fault that you didn't remember how close you and Michael were. It was her fault. It was all her fault. And that didn't sit right with the killer. Not at all. He'd...He'd make her pay. Stupid girl.

But first, you needed to care about him and only him. And the only way that would happen was if he isolated you. Just like he was isolated from everyone else. So, after pushing you back down towards the ground, he stared straight at you with those striking blue eyes of his - plainly planning on keeping you here indefinitely. Looking back up at him, you frowned incredulously. Did he...? No...No way! He didn't expect you to just sit here...Did he...? You didn't want to stay with a naked dead corpse and an unhinged murderer...!

"You can't expect me to stay here, with...with her!" You jerked your head towards "Lynda's" dead body, Michael also looking in said direction.

Then he flashed you a slightly confused glance - what was so wrong with it...? "I-It's a naked dead girl! I-I don't want to look at...at that!" You shrieked in embarrassment.

"Besides, why should I stay here...? It's cold, cramped, and I'm uncomfortable. Plus my arm and cheek still hurt. I thought...I thought we used to be friends." You huffed, complaining a little bit about your problems whilst you hugged your knees and turned away from him.

The killer merely watched you from the shadows of the darkened room, his eyes drifting up and down your body while he recaptured your natural beauty. Stalking was something he always did so naturally - he used to spy on Judith all the time. But you...you were much more beautiful. His older sister used her body and charm to get the boys in bed with her, yet you drew him in with just your personality and empathy. You gave Michael a chance from the get-go, and that's why he loved you. He still even had the bracelet he'd secretly taken from one of your boxes.

You on the other hand ignored his heavy stare and curled into a ball, attempting not to cry as you struggled not to have mental breakdown. This wasn't what you wanted. This wasn't a "Happy" Halloween. You watched a girl bleed out, Laurie stabbed her brother in the shoulder and got herself slaughtered, you ended up stuck in the Myers house's basement. And worst of all, you were still stuck by that teenager's dead body, being watched by a stalking serial killer. What on Earth were you meant to do...? You were mentally and physically exhausted, your head overflowing with negative thoughts whilst you slowly passed out. But the next time you woke up, you...you weren't in the basement anymore.

You were in somebody else's room; a teenager's bedroom by the looks of things. The bedroom felt unused - like the owner hadn't been back in a very long time. The bed itself was comfy, but why was it so...so warm? Rolling over, you fell into something soft. M-Michael...? Oh, Michael. Wait a second...Michael's chest...!? What was he doing in bed with you...!? You were about to tell him off, but he was asleep; his mask resting on the bedside table beside the double-bed.

Michael's face looked tired and worn-out; the killer's arms wrapped around your waist as he held onto you tremendously tightly. It was like...like you were some type of teddy bear to him...like a strange source of comfort. Something he didn't want to—No...Something he couldn't let go of. Sympathy washed through your veins, your kindness making you realise what Michael really was. He wasn't trying to be a monster - or a sociopath - he was a lonely, disturbed male, who was clinging onto the only family he had left. And that...just so happened to be...you.

The memories of you and Michael came flooding back; you remembering them from the terrors of last night and shivering softly. The scary ones overshadowing the happy ones and forcing you to feel frightened once more. The creepy obsession with you, the crazed look in his gaze, the fact that he never seemed to have any other friends back then...apart from you. In a twisted sort of way, the obsession would be considered somewhat flattering, if it weren't for the fact that he'd killed Laurie in front of you and attempted to take out your mother by the neck.

His skin was deathly pale, yet it looked very soft to touch. Should you try it...? You were way over your head anyway...So why not push your luck...? With a deep breath you went to place your hand against his cheek, jumping when Michael woke up and grasped your wrist; preventing you from doing so. Oh fuck...had you...had you gone too far...!? His sharp-blue orbs gazed into your own with a mixture of confusion and amusement, tilting his head just like a cute little kid would.

Before you could respond, the dark-haired male suddenly placed your hand against his cheek; his hand caressing your skin while he allowed you to touch him, his eyes now radiating with satisfaction and endearment. A heavy pink spread across your face like wildfire, embarrassment causing you to yank your hand back a few seconds later. Would he be angered by your worried defence? Just like he'd been angered by Laurie!? Oh God, what were you supposed to do in this sort of...this sort of strange situation...!?

Moving his hand towards you, your eyes swiftly squeezed shut all on their own; hurriedly expecting some kind of violent punishment whilst you shyly tensed up. You were so anxious in fact that you even flinched, scared of his reaction. What was he going to do!? How would he react to your behaviour!? Then his soft palm pressed against your own cheek, stroking the side of your face and calming you down as he did so with gentle fingers. This gave you the courage to actually speak to him again, your throat still slightly dry with nerves.

"G...Good morning..." You whispered hesitantly; your eyes widening from his lighthearted touches and wild mood-swings.

Michael was purposely being delicate - trying not to hurt or scare you after last night. It was a kind gesture, but you still didn't trust him, especially after the traumatic experience you'd just endured. He nodded, yet didn't say it in return...guess he really didn't like to talk. Whatever happened in that sanitarium...? It felt like the mischievous boy you'd met fifteen years ago was becoming less and less real. Unless that happy boy had never been happy in the first place. Maybe behind those cheeky eyes was a ticking-time-bomb, just waiting to go off...? Had you missed something...?

"I-I thought you were making me stay in the basement...? Isn't that...Isn't that what you were going to do...?" You feebly mentioned, feeling uneasy when the silent male gave a shake of his head, then a nod, and then finally went back to his usual setting; stalker-mode. This...This was just going nowhere.

"W-What do you want from me, then...? A-Are you trying to play house with me or something...? You're confusing me..." You questioned in fear as you moved away from the bed. Instead, your body edged towards the bedroom door - your survival instinct kicking in and giving you some sort of back-up.

You still faced the killer of course; your back turned to the door as your hand fumbled for the handle. The stalker noticed this - snatching up his mask and slipping it over his face as he moved with intense speed to stop you from leaving. And how, you ask...? Oh, by casually slamming his trusty kitchen knife violently into the wood - an inch away from your head. Although he remained silent, his mindset appeared clear; You weren't going anywhere. And that was final.