Slasher Preferences/One-shots (Completed)

Michael Myers Oneshot

You remember growing up in the same neighborhood as a killer. You walked the same route to school but on different sides of the street. You remember him. It was Halloween and as a young adult you often wondered how the old house was holding up. You felt bad for him but knew he was probably locked away somewhere. You crept up the stairs holding onto your flashlight. You picked the lock on the front door and made your way inside, shutting the door behind you. 

Sure this was stereotypical Halloween plans, go to the scary abandoned house. But you were alone and it wasn't for shits and giggles, you just wanted to see what his home was like. You often thought about what made him a killer. What did he have to go through to become someone so scary? 

You heard creeking but brushed it off as nothing and moved on, walking around the house slowly. It was surprisingly neat for being abandoned all these years. You walked into a bed room where the bed was messily made and things seemed to have a place. That was weird.. was someone hiding out here? You tried to get the thoughts out of your head. This place was abandoned, you had studied it every year for the last several years and had never as much as seen someone come in or out. 

You turned to leave the room and saw someone move into the shadows in the next room. You made your way to the hallway and froze, seeing a sillohette. You rose your flashlight with a shaky hand to aim the light at the figure. That's when you saw him. He was giantly tall and wore a white mask. He gripped a large kitchen knife in his hand. You gasped, dropping your flashlight and running for the stairs. 

You could hear his heavy footsteps behind you, he wasn't running but you were sure he knew every inch of this house, or at least he knew it better than you. You ran down the stairs and tried to make your way to the front door but tripped, like any basic bitch in a horror movie. You struggled to get up and felt him walk up behind you. There was no point in struggling. You slowly turned your body around to face him, tears running down your cheeks knowing what comes next. 

He raised his knife as you writhed on the ground. "Michael please." you whimpered. He stopped and looked at you. His knife lowered just a bit at you saying his name. You knew him? "Michael I live a block away, I use to walk to the bus stop on the other side of the street. You know me." You cried out. He lowered his knife all the way and helped you off the floor. You were shaking and reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. He didn't kill you but you knew he still could if he wanted to. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you're alone. I'm sorry about everything that happened." you cried into his chest. Slowly he began wrapping his arms around you. You heard the knife hit the floor and smiled a little bit, pulling back. "I should go." you said turning for the door. He grabbed your arm gently. "Stay." he said in a gravelly voice, hugging you again. You felt his chest rising and falling more rapidly. "Okay."