Kill For Me (Michael Myers x male!reader)

"My Home."

Michael made me stay back as he ventured towards the truck-stop. I crouched behind a fallen tree listening to the sound of owls hoot, crickets chirp, and the cars wizzing by on the highway ruining the natural ambience. Hot tears rolled down my face thinking about the innocent lives taken just for us to be out of the hospital. After what I could guess was 10 minutes Michael returned. He was wearing new clothes, blue coveralls hugged his tall frame tightly. The metallic smell of blood assaulted my nose as he grew closer. He held a black hoodie and blue jeans in his left hand as he approached me. I quickly wiped my tears as Michael crouched in front of me and shoved the clothes into my hands. I knew he probably killed someone for these.

He didn't say he did but he didn't have to. The fresh blood and bruises on his hands said it all. I noticed how scarred and roughly calloused they where for the first time. I slid the hoodie on over my t-shirt and swapped my sweatpants for the jeans. It wasn't much of a disguise but it was enough for now. Michael patted my h/c hair smearing blood through it. I shuttered, his hands where surprisingly warm in the cold October temperatures. I couldn't help but lean into the soft but firm touch. He quickly pulled away, not one for prolonged affection. "What now?" I muttered. Michael paused, he was inhumanly still. Breath even, eyes staring straight into my soul. 'Go home.' He signed slowly. His sign language was messy but just enough to make sense. "Home? I can't go home. My family doesn't want me." I admitted shakily. Michael blinked through that damn mask.

I don't know why but the mask annoyed me. I just wanted to see his face. Sure I had seen bits of his chin and mouth but that's about it. 'My home.' Michael signed back. He stood up and began stalking off towards Haddonfield. I stood up running to catch up, he was surprisingly fast for just walking and my much smaller legs struggled to keep up. No words where shared between us as we stalked through the forest. We occasionally paused to hide when sirens would blare past through the streets. I wondered why I was even still with him. I could run, I could easily get away and turn myself in, lessen my own legal punishment. But I didn't. And I couldn't figure out why. Michael wasn't forcing me to stay, so why didn't I run? I shook the thoughts from my head as we entered a neighborhood.

It was a nice suburban street. the sunrise shining nicely over the streets warming the cold air. We drew closer to a old rundown house. Completely fenced in with a large 'NO TRESPASSING' sign clung to the gate. I hesitated staring at the rundown abandoned two story house. Michael snapped the lock on the gate entering without hesitation. I followed closely behind him not wanting to be left alone. He approached the steps and pushed the front door open, dust flew from doorframe and I couldn't help but cough. There was no furniture left in the abounded place. A couple windows where busted letting a cool breeze in. Michael walked with a purpose, marching towards what once was the living room before crouching and running his hands over the floor boards. I drew closer leaning over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

He drew his fist back before slamming it into the wood causing it to splinter and crack around him. I let out a shocked gasp as I watched him tear into the wood until he had broken a decent sized hole in the wood. Reaching his hand in he pulled out a rusted old dusty kitchen knife, slamming it hard into the wood. He wasn't done however, he dug around more before hooking something in his hands pulling something out and dusting it off. It was a creepy old mask. He brushed dirt and dust that clung to it. It wasn't like the mask he currently wore, it was white with brown messy hair clearly made in a factory unlike his handmade one. "What's that about?" I asked sitting on the floor next to him and reaching out to touch the mask. He let me run my fingers over the dirty old latex before realization hit me. "You used this when you killed your family." I said plainly knowingly.

I pulled my hands away not wanting to touch it anymore. Michael nodded. Words caught on my tongue, there was so many things I wanted to say and ask but just couldn't find the words. Or, I was just afraid of his response. What if I said the wrong thing? Chances are I'd end up dead. it wouldn't be hard for him to snuff my life, he was scary good at that. I weighed my options and took a chance, "Michael." I mumbled softly just enough to catch his attention. His eyes flickered from me back to the mask in his bloodstained hands. "Why didn't you kill me?" I asked nervously. He froze and turned to face me without blinking. His eyes bored straight through me, it made me shutter. 'Art' He signed. I chuckled silently to myself as he turned away. Who knew my pathetic life could be spared from a simple sketch? "You're not as bad as Loomis made you out to be." Only half true. Michael was terrifying in his own way, not the same the book showed.