Michael Myers Imagines

Unusual

AN: WARNING mention of dead dog tho if you watched the movie I guess it isn't really warning is it lol.

It's a Sunday evening in the fall I had just set the table for supper, and my guest has yet to arrive from his murder spree. You heard me right I said murder spree. It mostly happens in October. While I wait I get a head start on the dishes and take out the trash.

As I made my way through the back door of the kitchen I notice something outside. A carcass of some sort discarded by the trash cans. Huh? With caution I walk out to the end of the patio and spot what looks to be a dead German Shepard. It was mangled at the neck and stomach.

"Oh god!" my stomach turned in pure disgust. The trash can wait. I turn on a heel and find a figure looming over me. "Ahh!" up goes the trash bag over my shoulder and landing somewhere behind me. The porch light was off so I couldn't tell who it was.

A hand extended towards me and before I could smack it away it's long fingers took hold of my wrist. I knew that grip better than anyone. Michael.

"Jesus christ" I yanked my hand away in a combination of relief and annoyance.

He just grunted but if he could I'm sure he'd be laughing his ass off. I turn on the porch light and find him standing over the dead dog. "Don't even think about it, I've got real supper on the table" I chided wagging a finger at him. Any other person would've been dead for telling the shape what to do.

Michaels response was a head tilt. Probably curious about food I guessed. He tossed the bag in the trash along with the dog and followed me inside. To my surprise he washed his hands and his knife. The meal was a simple steak, potatoes, and steamed vegetables fit for two.

The shape never overstayed his welcome. He usually ate and left, and he never fully took off his mask, just enough to be able to eat. Tonight however, was different. We sat at the table and Michael reached for the folds of his mask and lifted it up revealing his face.

Nothing unnatural.

A shaven pale face, shaggy brown hair that used to be blond, and dull blue eyes with a hint of black. He wore the same blank expression on his face that were visible in his eyes under that mask. I suddenly became aware that he might not appreciate me staring too long so I focused on my plate instead.

The sound of meat being cut up signaled that he wasn't phased by wandering eyes and we ate on in silence. I studied the look on his face seemingly enjoying the meal and to my amazement he had decent table manners. After eating I finished up dishes while Michael did what he does best, watches. I open a drawer by the sink and pull out a hand towel to dry them with and in doing so I expected Michael to be gone. He was standing right behind me, and you guessed it, scared the shit out of me.

"Michael!" I lash him in the arm with the dish towel and furrow my brows at him. I swear I saw a twitch at the corner of his lip as if he were trying to smirk.

Michael takes the towel from my hand, set it on the counter, and replaced it with his own hand. The shape is literally standing in my kitchen, no mask, holding my hand. The heck is happening? I kept still and stared up into his eyes that were somehow softer than usual. Everything about tonight is unusual.

I extend my free hand to touch his cheek, and as my fingers brush against the smooth skin I feel a tightness in my right hand. He's tense. I drop my left hand and his gaze is one of confusion? I wasn't sure. He lets go of my hand, puts on his mask, takes his knife and leaves. Odd.

Holy crap how am I still alive?