Unwelcome | Michael Myers x Reader

Chapter 15

(A/N): This chapter is a little short, but it's the start of the next conflict. Next chapter is Michael's POV, which will be fun to write. 

You'd ended up cuddling with Michael on the couch, crashing from a full stomach. When you woke, you were in your bed, tucked tightly under your covers. A glance at your clock told you it was almost midnight; your nap had turned into a screwed-up sleep schedule. Great. You sigh, trying to get comfortable in your blankets again, but you weren't tired after your almost 8 hours of sleep. Jesus christ, you were going to regret messing up your sleep schedule. You groan as you sit up, patting around in search of your phone and finding it in the most obvious spot; your bedside table. You grab it, entering your password and checking your text messages quickly. You see a text from Katie, a simple hello. You answer back with a 'hi', and exit the messages screen to go to instagram, laying down once more as you scrolled mindlessly. A clattering outside your door makes you sit bolt upright, narrowing your eyes to stare out into the dark hallway. You half-expected to see Michael, but no one was there. Your phone buzzes, tearing your attention away.

'Why are you up so late (Y/N)?' Katie responded. You can almost hear her motherly-scolding tone through the text.

'Fell asleep at 4, slept til now.' you flop back down into your nest of blankets. Your instagram scrolling as you wait for a response from Katie is interrupted by yet another sound outside your door; a creaking floorboard and the shuffling of fabric against fabric. You gulp down the lump forming in your throat as you build up the courage to speak.

"M-Michael?" you whisper-call. You see a flicker of movement out in the hall, and throw your blankets aside. Was Michael playing some sort of game? Was he mad at you? You creep towards the door as silent as possible, wincing as a floorboard underneath you let out a groan.

Michael was clearly a lot more stealthy than you; how did he creak those floorboards? He was 100% silent when he meant to be. This must be some sort of game. You reach the doorframe, placing a hand on the wall just beside it and leaning out into the hall, glancing left and then right, into the rooms on either side. No sign of Michael. You exit the room, turning to enter the left room and take a better look; that's where you'd heard the creaking come from. You reach inside, about to flick on the light when there's a footstep from behind you. You whip around, a smile splitting your face as you do, expecting to see Michael. Your smile vanishes when you see that it isn't, in fact, Michael. All you catch is a flash of a dark mask before something hard connects with the back of your head.

***

You startle awake as you're thrown violently around in total darkness. Your hands are bound to your feet, knees tucked up against your chest. The space around you is a tight fit, a rough yet fuzzy fabric like the texture of the inside of a car's trunk. You open your mouth to scream, to call for help, but the choked cry you let out is muffled by the blindfold tucked inside your mouth, gagging you. Your head erupts into a flurry of terror and confusion, your head beginning to throb with a rhythmic jackhammering pain. You're being kidnapped. Your breathing quickens as the hum of a car engine overwhelms you, blocks out every other sound. With no sight, no hearing, and no moving, your fight-or-flight was speeding into a frantic overdrive. Tears well in your eyes as you try to struggle free from your restraints, attempting to scream despite your gag and failing miserably. By the time you're wailing hopelessly, the car is pulling to a stop and the engine is cutting out. Save your pride, (Y/N)! You yell at yourself, cutting off your cries and biting your cheek to stop them from returning. You wipe your tears on the 'floor' ot the trunk as best you can, squeezing your eyes shut in the darkness to try to heighten your hearing. The soft, almost inaudible crunch of boots on rocks can be heard, but that's all. You realize you're shivering, and fight to stop it. You think of Michael; at home, probably worried. His arms, his safety. What if he was already outside to save you? You prayed and prayed that he was here, or at least on his way.