Slasher imagines

🖤 Making up

A/N- For all the boys that either wouldn't have killed you or you never broke up in the first place, I will not be including them in this chapter.

♤ Michael Myers ♤

Peaceful sleep was interrupted by banging coming from outside your door. You sleepily sat up to listen. There it was again, though it was still distant. You got up from your comfortable spot on the bed and tip toed to your door, peeking through the peephole, before quietly unlocking it and peering into the hallway. You took a glance to your right and left yet saw nothing. Before closing the door you heard another door open close by. You barely stuck your head out again, yet the sight made you go lightheaded. It was Michael. He exited the room. He was at your hotel looking for you. His head turned to face your open door and you quickly shut it before locking it. You ran to the rooms window and pulled up the blinds. The attempt at opening the windows were useless, they weren't meant to be open apparently. Seeing as they were dead bolted to the wooden frame. You jumped at the sound of a loud thud behind you. In the reflection of the window you saw Micheals fist had made it through the door and was grasping the handle. You panicked and grabbed the closest weapon, a butter knife. Once the door had finally been open you waited, waited for him to angrily come at you, kill you, torture you maybe. Instead he slowly made his way to you. And once he stopped in front of you, he dropped his knife, lowered his head, and knelt before you. You were surprised and teary eyed at this. His hands reached for yours and grabbed ahold of them, shaky and all.
"I am sorry for making you feel so unloved that you had to leave. I didn't mean to make you feel this way, it's the last thing I wanted. I do love you, with everything I have. With everything I am. Killer, man, son, brother, and lover." He spoke low and genuine. You sobbed and dropped the butter knife, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a desperate hug. You would go home, but right now you just needed to stay in his loving embrace.

♤ Jason Voorhees ♤

You were sitting at the base of a tree, thinking about what you were doing. Was this a dumb idea? You still loved him but you missed your family and as long as you were still with him you knew he wouldn't let you go visit. He would never let you leave. Yet, you knew that you could never come back to him if you left now. He probably wouldn't even take you back at this moment. He must be so angry with you. And he had every right to be angry. Especially with no explanation other than "You didn't think this was working out". You sighed and leaned your head against the tree. Suddenly you heard something. It sounded like a twig being snapped. Your head shot up and your eyes scanned the area. Living with Jason had its perks. You knew how to survive. On instinct you grab the knife from your bag and stand with your stuff, ready to fight or run. The bush in front of you shakes and before you can react deers come strolling out, partialy soothing your anxiety. They take a glance at you before fleeing into the trees. You smile and lean back against..not a tree. You stiffen and look up over your shoulder. Jason stood there, looking down on you with his machete in hand. You were so close it seemed like you could feel his anger radiating off him. Though his eyes held more than just anger, there was sadness as well. You sheepishly turn around to face him and put your knife back in your bag. His hand comes up and grabs your chin, tilting your head so your eyes can meet. You see that he's waiting for an explanation. One well deserved. There was silence. Silence that caused tears to form in your eyes.
"I just want to see my family" You mumble. His grip lightens and gaze seems to soften. He pulls you into him, a tight and loving hug.
"I can allow that to happen" You smile and let the tears escape. You just needed to talk to him..

♤ Charles Lee Ray ♤

He knocked, surprising himself, and now the nerves really set in. What would he say? What could he say? Anything he came up with couldn't make up for his idiotic words and actions. Absolutely nothing sounded right. The door opens and his eyes shoot up to the figure standing there, only its not you. And before the man can react he's looking to the right with a stinging pain devouring his left cheek.
"You have no right to be here you asshole" She spoke. It was your best friend. Maybe it was better that Charles didn't see you, all hypothetical apologies probably would have slipped right off his tongue. Instead listening to your best friends insults sounded like an upgrade from that awkward situation with you. Despite thinking this, he still had the urge to see you. The obligation to apologize.
"B/f/n? Who is it at the door?" And all doubts fled like mice. He knew exactly what to say. As you came into view Charles just knew exactly what to do. He pushed past b/f/n and engulfed you into a tight embrace. Surprisingly, you hugged him back. There was no more sadness, no more doubt or awkwardness, it was just you two. Standing in the doorway, having a silent conversation that you both knew would lead you back home with Charles. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself in those months of time, you still loved the bastard. Maybe time was all you needed, both of you.