𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑴𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔 (Michael X Reader)

𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛

The TV hummed quietly as I scrolled through my phone, until a headline snagged my attention: a murderer was on the loose, someone emulating Michael Myers. A thrill shot through me. There was something irresistibly alluring about the way he stalked his victims, his dark persona both terrifying and exciting.

Michael Myers epitomized obsession, a relentless figure whose emotionless mask and imposing presence ignited a dangerous fascination within me. I imagined the power he wielded as he lurked in the shadows, an intoxicating mix of dread and allure.

The news coverage of his chaos only intensified my intrigue. The notion of his killer instincts paired with a magnetic charm sent waves of excitement coursing through me. It felt as though he was drawing me in, blurring the lines between fear and desire, awakening something primal inside.

I reclined on the couch, the screen casting a soft glow as I absorbed the reports-witnesses in panic, fear palpable in the air. The chilling images pulled me closer to the danger, stirring a mix of thrill and anxiety. The thought of him watching me was impossible to shake.

Wrapping myself in a blanket, I shivered despite the warmth. The intensity of the story lingered, and I wrestled with the morality of my interest. The broadcast shifted to live scenes of flashing lights and chaos, heightening my anticipation.

"If only he would notice me," I quipped to myself, the thought sticking in my mind. The thrill of it all was captivating. As I closed my eyes, my heart raced at the idea of fleeing, my pulse quickening. But what if a part of me didn't want to run?

This dangerous obsession tugged at something deep within me, urging me to escape my mundane routine. I glanced back at the TV as updates on his crimes rolled on. Maybe it was reckless to indulge in this fascination, but the allure of darkness was hard to resist, reminding me that the line between good and evil can often blur-and maybe it was okay to be intrigued by the thrill of obsession.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts. I chuckled as I turned off the TV. Peeking through the peephole, I saw a group of excited little kids, their faces beaming under colorful costumes and clutching candy bags.

I opened the door to their cheerful "Trick or treat!" in unison.

Grabbing the bowl filled to the brim with Snickers, Milky Ways, gummies, and candy corn, I delighted in sharing these simple pleasures on Halloween. I scooped handfuls into their bags, admiring their costumes.

"You all look amazing!" I exclaimed, and their smiles widened in response.

"Thank you!" they chirped happily.

"Now go collect more treats!" I encouraged, and they squealed with joy, rushing off together, their laughter trailing down the path.

As I leaned against the doorframe, I couldn't help but notice the street alive with kids in costumes-ghosts, superheroes, witches-each group laughing and parading from house to house. Families filled the porches, basking in the festive atmosphere.

Taking a moment to appreciate my surroundings in Lakewood, I admired the charming houses, each with its unique character. My cozy two-story home had a spacious living room that led to a modest kitchen, while upstairs there were three bedrooms, two of which I'd transformed into a reading nook filled with books and soft throws.

Each day, I trudged off to my monotonous office job-an uninspiring cubicle filled with the hum of dull work. Yet the paycheck made it bearable, providing the comforts of my home and the simple joys-like the candy bowl waiting for Halloween.

Watching the children revel in the evening made the long hours feel less taxing. I leaned back, letting the warmth of community and joy seep in, grateful for the little moments that made life worthwhile.