Michael Myers Fanfiction 21+

PART 2

You were woken up by a bright light shining into your eyes. You slowly opened them, realising it was the sun and not Jesus coming to take you. As your vision got used to the light, you looked around, noting the dusty room and Michael's house. You looked down, seeing your once destroyed pussy was back to its normal self, still a little swollen. Your head snapped up as you heard footsteps coming towards the door. You knew it was Michael but it still made you scared. Michael opened the door to the room, eyes locking with yours. He had his mask on and the same suit he wore last night, though there was fresh blood on it. Your eyes widened as you stared at his suit. "D-did you... kill someone?.." You asked, your breath shaky. He didn't respond to you as he continued to stand in the doorway. "Michael... Did you kill someone?" You asked again. He let out a low grunt and looked down at his blood covered shoes. You took that as a yes and your heart sunk into your stomach.

Michael began to make his way towards you, his boot makes loud thumps against the house's old flooring and leaving bloody footprints from the doorway to the mattress you were laying on. Your breathing picked up and he sat down on the mattress, the springs popping under his weight. His shoulders heaved as he breathed in heavily, as if he was guilty of something.

You suddenly lost control of your body as you started to scoot closer to him until you were sitting next to him. Your mind was screaming at you saying he was dangerous but your body wasn't listening. You slowly reached out a trembling hand, resting it on his shoulder. You yanked your hand back as Michael shot to his feet, not used to the touch of gentleness. Your heart race picked up again as he stared down at you, the black orbs of his eyes dark. "I-I'm sorry... I'm not trying to hurt you..." you said as you scooted back to where you were before on the mattress.

Michael's breathing seemed to die down as he sat back down on the mattress. You just sat and stared at him this time, afraid to touch him again after his sudden reaction. "Can I ask a question?" You asked, playing with one of the strings on the blanket. He raised his head slightly, not looking at you as if to tell you to go on. "Um... is there a certain reason as to why you kill? I don't understand why you're letting me live... when you killed everyone else. What's so special about me?" You watched as he turned his head to look at you. He sighed loudly as he looked down, unable to speak. You handed him a piece of paper and a pencil. "Here. Write it down." He took the paper and pencil and began to scribble away.

When he was done, he handed you the paper and to your surprise, he had neat handwriting.

I kill because it gives me a reason not to think of her.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the words. Think of who? You looked up at him to see him staring at you, waiting for a response. You swallowed hard before answering. "Think of who?"
He grabbed the paper before starting to scribble again and handed it to you after he was finished.

My mother.

You looked up at him seeing that he was looking away from you, staring at a picture hanging on the wall. You got up and walked over to it to examine the picture. It was a picture of a young woman, about 25 or 26 with a young boy with blonde hair. He was smiling while pointing to her stomach, which you soon realized she was pregnant. You look back at Michael, seeing him watching your moves. "Is this your mother?" You asked, pointing at the woman in the picture. Michael nodded and grabbed the paper, scribbling down more words. You walked over to him when he held out the paper for you to take.

She killed herself when I lashed out at her one day. After I killed the cafeteria lady with a fork, I lashed out at her by accident because I thought she was one of the guards. I never meant to hurt her. It's my fault she's gone.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, noticing his eyes were moist. You walked over and sat down next to him. "It's not your fault, Michael. Don't go blaming yourself for what happened. It was her choice. She could have stayed and helped you overcome your obsession but she decided to end it all. Don't ever blame yourself for something you didn't do." Michael stared at you wide eyed after you finished your speech. You began to feel a surge of regret rush through you. Uh oh. I think I said the wrong thing.

He suddenly got up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him with a slam. You jumped as the sound echoed through the old house. You sighed and studied the picture. You stared at Michael's mother. She really was a beautiful woman.

Your head turned as the door reopened, revealing Michael again. He walked to the mattress and sat down, patting the space next to him. You slowly walked over, sitting down. He sighed as he looked down. "What made you start to kill?" You asked. He grabbed the paper and pencil and began to scribble something down. His large forearm blocked your view from his writing. He slides the paper to you, throwing the pencil down on the floor. You read the words carefully.

This one bully was talking about how my mom would give his dad a tit rub, and how she'll suck his dick for 10 bucks. After school, he was walking home in the woods and I beat him to death with a giant stick. I couldn't help myself... the way he was talking about my mother made something in me snap. That's when my killing started.

You looked up at him after you finished reading the words he wrote. So he did it to protect his mother's name? You placed the paper down and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. He tended under your grip but allowed you to touch him. "You're a good man, Michael. You were only trying to protect your mother, weren't you?" He nodded his head slightly, his gaze staying on his blood stained boots.