Blurb - Halloween Kills - Michael Myers x Reader
Note: This contains spoilers for Halloween Kills (2021)
They all surrounded him, crowding him on the street like a wild animal. He deserved it, this taker of life, this masked killer who lived to torment those who crossed his path.
They hit him with anything they could find - wooden bats, clothing irons, and golf clubs. They vented their anger and frustration with every blow, every kick, every strike. Sheriff Brackett shot him a couple of times in the chest and he still managed to survive through it all.
He slumped to the wet pavement, struggling to reach for his knife that lay inches away, only for it to be taken away by Laurie Strode’s daughter, Karen Nelson.
She used the knife to stab him in the back and you winced as he once again slumped to the ground, motionless. She gripped the knife and ripped it out, leaving him defenseless against the vengeful mob.
You knew he haunted this town for years. He was the ghost that walked amongst mortals, the reaper of the night, the Boogeyman.
But, regardless, you felt for this man.
You shouldn’t, you know this, and if anyone were find out you felt this way you would be cast out and judged. Whether he was misunderstood, misdiagnosed, or the embodiment of evil, him laying lifeless on the ground twisted at your insides. You wanted him to make it, wanted to see him stand back up and live.
You had brought your own knife, originally planning to be apart of the team that finally took down Michael Myers, but you couldn’t do it when he bent down and put his mask back on. A chill ran down your back, a voice telling you to leave and not look back. You backed away and hid next to one of the trucks, sitting on your knees when the others began their merciless attacks.
You glanced at the knife in your hands and knew exactly what to do. You slid it across the road towards where he lay quick enough where no one saw. A subtle ruffle of his body went unnoticed to everyone except you.
His eyes were open, alive, and staring right at you. Your heart skips a beat when he reaches for the knife and swiftly jerks it behind him, slicing the neck of the unsuspecting person.
He was up and ready to kill once again. They were no match for him, no weapon that could have prepared them for what he was made to do, was born to be.
You trembled tremendously and it wasn’t from the cool night air blowing across your neck where your hairs stood at attention.
They all lay dead at his feet in a circle of spilled blood. His hands curled into his palms, chest heaving with adrenaline, giving you the perfect the opportunity to flee, but you stay frozen in fear.
Calm and more in control, Michael turns his attention to you, walking over to where you hide. You try and make yourself invisible, but it’s pointless. He seen you when you ran from the crowd, when you slid him the knife, and now where you sit in front of him waiting for your own end.
He moves forward, hand coming to the back of your head, bringing you closer. He runs his hand through your hair multiple times and you let out a breath of relief, slumping against his leg.
After a few minutes, he cups your cheek, pointing the knife down the street.
You stumble to your feet quickly and start in the direction of your house. When you turn back, he is gone, already heading towards his own.
