.
.
.
Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as Michael pulled her close, his grip firm yet strangely gentle. She could feel the intensity of his gaze even though his expression remained hidden behind the mask. The word he uttered –
"Shelter"
– sent a shiver down her spine, its meaning unclear yet filled with ominous implications.
For a moment, Y/N was paralyzed with fear, unsure of how to react to this sudden display of possessiveness from the silent intruder in her home. But as she looked into his dark eyes, she saw something there, something that stirred a sense of empathy within her despite the danger he posed. She feels stupid for trying to empathize with a sociopath who only knows obsession and possession.
With a trembling hand, she reached out to gently touch his arm, a silent gesture of understanding and acceptance. She knew that Michael Myers was not like other men, of course he wasn't, that he was driven by forces beyond her comprehension. And yet, in this moment, she couldn't help but feel a strange connection to him, then again she got comfortable too quickly...
"I... I'll do my best to provide" She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart. "You can stay here... for as long as you need."
Michael's grip on her arm loosened slightly, and Y/N took that as a sign to slowly extricate herself from his grasp. With a final nod of acknowledgement, she turned and walked out of the kitchen, her mind racing with thoughts of what the future held for her and the enigmatic figure now under her roof.
As she settled onto the couch in the living room, ";The rabbit bites the hand that feeds. She feeds. I feed. My warren grows, it burrows in my skin never waking! Never fraying! It stays!" She rambled to herself she was terrified. One metaphor after the other, she versed. What could she do? Oh she was in for it now, two intruders in one day? she was panicking more before she heard a whisper from the wall, it sounded like a child, 'the boy' she thought. Y/n knew not of his name but she could hear where it was coming from.
"Y/n....I'm not mad.... I promise... Don't be scared of me.. I'll be good." He said. She tensed up, she's never heard the man in her walls speak before, she looked terrified. "I... It's fine... I'm sorry... About... Umm-"
"He doesn't belong here, he tried to take you away!" He whined, interrupting her. "He broke the rules!" She shudders a bit as his voice turns much deeper, no longer having that childlike sound.
"I'm sorry... I'll be good, I promise, does he have to stay?" He whined, how can he switch his voices so quickly like that? I mean Y/n could do impressions but she couldn't do...that! "I- I don't have a choice... It's either I let him stay, or he kills me... This is my home, i decide who stays and who does not." She whispered yelled, scared.
"You mustn't hurt him." She trailed on and realized she didn't know his name. "Your... Name?" She trailed on.
"Brahms...." He whispered.
"Brahms? Like Johannes Brahms, the German composer?" She asked as she perked up saying his name as it roles off her tongue, which made him shudder behind the walls, after this he went silent.
YOU ARE READING
Dionaea Muscipula (xfem!reader)
FanfictionY/n L/n, A 19-20 year old girl, protective, innovative, and withheld grit. She's fascinated with the Macabre and anything to do with it, her intellect seems to surpass most those around her, her inner dialogue knows her best. What will happen when...