Male OC/Reader Slasher One Shots

Michael Myers - A Repaid Debt

Does anyone else get inspired by classical music?

Warnings: Mention of self harm, medication, bullet wounds, and blood

If these make you uneasy, I would suggest you do not continue.

-

I flew down the halls. Blaring sirens and shouting followed me.

I quickened my pace, my bare feet making a sickening thud with each step. I dared to look back, watching as the men chasing me stopped shouting and began to scream. They fled in terror.

I slowed down, scared to look in front of me. With bated breath, I looked forward to see someone in a medical smock just like me. I glanced up to see a tall man with a yellow paper mache mask.

He was holding a bloody pipe in his hand, and from the looks of it, the pipe had been torn from a sink. It wasn't very long, but it was thick and a good tool for bludgeoning. My eyes darted from him as the anxiety swept over me.

He started to raise the pipe and I fell to the ground with my hands shielding my face.

"P-Please." I muttered. My voice was hoarse. I hadn't had any water in hours. I was so tired.

So much screaming, running, shouting. It was all so draining.

I was so, so tired. My arms fell limp in a silent defeat. Perhaps death would be welcoming. Even if it was Hell I was going to.

The man halted his movements, and without another thought, he turned and walked away.

Strange, I thought. Why walk and not run?

-

The asylum had fallen to shambles, and while many patients now roamed free, like myself, some of the others weren't so lucky. The destruction didn't quite reach the first floor until late.

But everyone knew that the first-floor patients were near harmless and didn't belong in there.

I myself was a second-floor patient. The man who spared my life would have been a tenth-floor patient, if that had existed. Instead, he was restrained in the basement where the head doctor often tried torturing the "crazy" out of us.

I was lucky to have only been restrained once. I learned quickly after that.

During my escape, I had stuck to myself, trying to blend in by stealing clothes and snatching what money I could from peoples pockets.

I hadn't been in the outside world long enough to know how it worked. I was eighteen when they stole me from my aunt. They finally could grab me since I was a legal adult.

No one would have really stopped them from taking me sooner. I had done my research.

The man who spared me was the notorious Michael Myers. He was taken at the age of seven.

Maybe they took him sooner because of the crimes he committed.

I'd gathered we were around the same age, due to his time and my time, and when we had been integrated into asylum life.

I returned to my aunt's run down apartment, only to find it in ruin. She hadn't been here in some while, I'd guessed.

But this was fine. No one would think to look here, would they?

-

Days, and then weeks passed with no trouble. I lived off of what I could find, and ate the Sunday night dinners from the town church.