Slashers x Reader One-Shots

Michael Myers X Short! Reader PT2

Lol when half of your stories on your most popular book is A/Ns

The word scrumptious should burn

I forgot half of the things mentioned here wouldn't exist at the age Michael is. In PT1, Y/N was watching One Punch Man but this takes place in the 70s or 80s or something. Screw it, this is fanfiction

I'm writing part of this in the middle of class now btw. My last phone broke so I got a new one and it's thinner, so it might be harder to write on it. Plus it auto spaces words.

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     Y/N was in the kitchen, preparing to make a chocolate shake because, uh, chocky shakes are quite scrumptious if I do say so myself, and I do say so. She grabbed the stool next to the small island in the kitchen and used it to get on top of the counter. She clicked her tongue, keeping her mind on her surroundings in case her roommate, Michael, were to teleport through sheer force of will and pull her down. But she didn't hear him coming.

Y/N grabbed the blender and looked around the room to make sure her stool wasn't moved when she wasn't looking. When Michael would do that, she'd fall down since it's like walking down the stairs but missing a step, making you fall down and lose your will to breath. Of course, Y/N should be smart enough to just look down or get down slowly to see if the stool is there, but that solution would be too simple and intelligent for the likes of this story.

Y/N got off the counter and kicked the stool off the side, looking around more. "Huh,"she clicked her tongue, shrugging off her paranoia. She plugged in the blender and grabbed the ice cream tub she got earlier, scooping some out and putting it in the cup of the blender. She hummed to herself as she poured in milk and whatever toppings she wanted, like oreos or something.

It was about 8am, meaning it was almost time for her to go to work. Usually Michael would be watching tv, doing something out back, or whatever else he does, but she strangely couldn't find him. It was weird for him to just be missing. But to be fair, he's an adult who can leave whenever we he wants.

I sighed, as I turned on the blender, my eyes turning dull from boredom. It felt like a weight was put on her shoulders from the disappointment, but at least getting to work on time would be easier. Michael wasn't used to a modern day home so I would usually have to go on a rundown of things to and not to do before I left. A smile lifted my face as I think back, simultaneously pouring the shake into a cup and putting it in my fridge for now.

I take a large breath again before heading to my room, pushing the door open with a silent squeak coming from it. It smelled like slight dust which kinda makes since because who the hell has time to clean anything, am I right? No one, because this story takes place in America and anyone who's lives in a different country before being here can tell you that a lot for us are depressed because America is designed to be repeatative. Like, can we please do anything other than wake up, work, go watch TV at home, then sleep? Can we have a week long festival instead of getting drunk and shooting fireworks one day in July?

I shake the thoughts that suddenly appeared in my head off, sighing as I walked to my closet. "I need to take schizophrenia pills, I swear," I mumble as I pull open the sliding door— "Yo, what the hell!-"