#brahms fluff

You followed the rules. Day to day, as if nothing had ever changed. Some days harder than others and you wondered how much of the circumstances you had truly processed within your brain. Despite it all, regret was never an option. Even the volatility of Brahm’s emotions couldn’t make you regret staying. 

You were alone. Nothing to go back to, no one missing you, except a boy who was also alone. You wanted to take care of him, allow him the love he so desperately deserved. 

He didn’t talk much, now that he was no longer a ghost in the wall, but his presence was always so loud. Lingering, watching. When you cooked, he lingered in the doorway, so observant and curious but too afraid to cross the threshold. But you always felt him, the chill, the goosebumps that rose on your skin. 

“Are you hungry,”, you would ask, only to receive a nod in return, hands behind his back as he walked over to sit at the head of the dining table. 

Brahms always made sure to brush his fingers against you when you sat the plate in front of him. And it never stopped eliciting the same response. Atomic particles floating in the air, lingering between the space between fingertips. It made your breath hitch every time.

When you played piano for him, he sat far away on the couch. He didn’t like the sun, it was too much, too bright, too warm. But he loved the way it cascaded over you. Dust floating in the space between you and the window, skin tanned and warm in its glow. He would let his eyes linger a little too long over the dip in your throat, the way your lips parted in focus. 

After hours of lingering eyes and non accidental touches, before dinner you would sit on the couch and read to him, and as if he had spent the entire day forming some intrepidity, he would lay down on the couch and allow his head to rest in your lap. His eyes never left your face for a second, afraid if he looked away you would disappear. 

Even as you read, your fingers threaded through freshly washed hair, so soft and curled at the ends. You pretended to not notice him, speaking every word of the book so deliberately. Brahms listened intently, but not to the story, to the way you spoke every word, eyes always so focused on your lips. You wished the mask didn’t cover his face, so desperate to trace your fingers over the bridge of his nose, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. 

You wanted to believe the day would be easy. It had been easy, too easy, enough to set you on edge. Turn of emotions for Brahms was like a match to a flame, instant and intense. 

You were cooking dinner when he crept behind you, body pressed against your back. He towered over you, having to lean down to press his unmasked lips against your shoulder. It was bold of him and you could tell by his heavy breathing that it made him apprehensive. You could feel the exposed chest hair, soft against the skin of your back with every rise and fall of his breaths. 

You had to tell him.

Brahms stretched out his arms, sleeves of his cardigan on both sides of your body as he placed his hands against the countertop. 

“I’m busy”, you mused, pretending as if you were bothered by his sudden need for contact. Truely, you wanted more of it, but you needed to tell him you had to leave to get groceries, uncharted territory that you were afraid to touch.

“We need to talk about something”, you added, quietly, turning in his arms to face him. 

He instantly pulled his mask back into place before arms returned to trap you against the counter. 

“We need groceries, Brahms, that means I have to leave to go get them.”

From the way his eyes squinted, you could tell his brows were furrowed. A flash of panic before enmity took its place. His brain switched gears, always emerging at the sense of a threat, a way to protect himself. Softer eyes taking a backseat, the flip of his emotions almost gave you whiplash. You could feel it suffocate the air and suddenly he was way too close. 

You shut your eyes, dizzy with the inability to catch your breath when his jaw tensed, eyes staring down at you with an almost hatred. As if to say, “I knew you would leave, just like everyone else”. 

“No”, he cried out, strangled as if suddenly he would cry.

“I will come back Brahms, I promise”. 

He was so clearly afraid, rage masking his vulnerability. 

“You’re..not leaving. I won’t allow it.” 

Brahms knuckles turned painfully white, gripping the edged surface on each side of you.

“Stop it”, you scolded, heart aching at his fear, but frustrated at the tantrum. 

His eyes looked everywhere but at you, reaching with long, piano like fingers for the empty glass of water that had sat next to the stove. 

You were too afraid to reach out and comfort him. 

“What if I went tonight, while you were sleeping?  I would be back before you realized.” 

You gasped at the sound of glass breaking, moving away within his grasp to comprehend what had happened. 

Shards fell off the edge, blood dripping through Brahm’s fingers and onto the contrast of the marbled floor. He swayed, staggering back slightly at the sight. Your mouth open with disbelief. 

“What did you do”, you yelled, startling him as he backed away more.

“Brahms”.

He wouldn’t allow you any further, every step forward from you was a step backwards for him, as if you had been the one to do it. 

“Let me help you”, you cried. 

Everything was too loud for Brahms. The kitchen light too bright, your worried face overwhelming. He didn’t want to look at you. He hated you in that moment. The throbbing pain in his hand, sticky, syrup like fluid running down his arm. It was all too much. So he retreated.

Retreated back to the only place that felt safe; the walls. His room. 

You sunk to the floor next to the glass, blood already oxidizing into its brown leftovers. 

You allowed yourself to cry. 

~

 You only knew he was okay by the occasional sounds of his roaming that night. Dinner untouched and cold. You turned down the quilt of his bed, leaving the lamp on in case of his arrival. You knew he wasn’t coming though. Your heart ached at the thought of his hand, worried like a mother. 

Cole's voice made your blood rush to your feet when you entered the room. You stared at him as he casually played pool and hit the white pool ball with the cue stick, making the sound of resin clashing fill the room as it collided with the other pool balls.

“It was a pain in the ass to find you,” He said, then turned to look into your eyes while pointing at you with the cue “But I got ya' now”

Your grip on the doll tightened and you watched him stand up to his full height. Fear slowly seeped into your bones as you took in the gravity of the situation. You had been avoiding him for months and even traveled to another country just to get away from him. He was a monster. He’d hurt you. You had even called the police on him and got a restraining order against him. But there he was, standing a few feet from you and threatening to take you back.

“Go get your stuff. I got us last-minute tickets and we need to board in about an hour.”

He ordered while standing inches from your face. You stared down at the floor as your body was screaming for you to move and do as he had said in order to prevent being hurt. But something in you had changed. Five months ago, you would’ve obeyed out of fear. You would’ve done anything to avoid a slap or a punch. But that fear started to wither. Being away from him and being alone for so long made you feel safer. Made you feel confident. Stronger.

“No…” you muttered softly

“What?” He said with slight disbelief and a puzzled face. It wasn’t the response he expected. Thinking 'had heard you wrong?' “What did you say?”

You lifted Your head to meet his angry gaze. It was almost impossible to hold eye contact with him. To look the devil in the eye. But you pushed on.

“I said I’m not going anywhere with you” you spoke more confidently and watched surprise cover his features. Something sparked inside you and all the fear left your body.

But it was a mistake. It blinded you from reality. You had no chance against him. You weren’t going to get away with it. There was no way you could’ve stopped him as he suddenly lunged at you and reached for your neck. As his hands circled your throat and tightened, instantly blocking your airway. And In an attempt to push his arms away, you let go of the doll in your hold. Your eyes widened at the sound of shattering porcelain.

“Br-a-hms..” You choked out in a plea. The doll you had been caring for as If it were your own child, was shattered into million pieces beneath your feet, digging into the soles of your shoes. You could hear the porcelain crunching beneath Cole’s boots as you struggled against each other. Your nails dug into his clothed forearms and you scratched with all the strength you could muster, slightly ripping the fabric and piercing his skin. Warm liquid gathered under your fingers as you tried to loosen his hold on you. But he was stronger. It was useless. Tears filled your eyes from both the lack of oxygen and clear realization. Cole was going to kill you. He was crushing your windpipe and you weren’t able to breathe. Numbness began to overtake you and all you could hear was your blood pulsing loudly in your ears. You began losing consciousness.

But before your eyes could fully close, you felt your body being pushed away followed by a sharp pain on your side from coming into contact with the hard floor. You began to gasp at the rush of cold air rushing to your lungs. It stung painfully and felt like you had swallowed fire. Wheezing, you rubbed at the sore spot on your neck, trying to alleviate the pain from Cole's crushing hold. You turned at the distorted sound of grunting and objects being broken as the ringing in your ears slowly began to lift. When your vision fully cleared, what you saw would only stop your breathing once again.

There, a few feet from you stood a tall man you had never seen before. He wore dirty-looking clothing and no shoes. What surprised you the most was the white doll-like mask he wore. It also looked dirty and cracked. You could barely make out dark bloodshot eyes that were slightly covered by dark disheveled curls. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, as he stared down at Cole’s struggling body. Cole looked distorted but was still attempting to get up.

You glanced behind the two men, at a large hole in the wall where a tall mirror once stood against the wall. Its glass shards were scattered all over the floor and tables. The inside of the wall was unexpectedly hollow and had what appeared to be a small hallway. A raspy cough unexpectedly ripped through your throat, making the masked man look in your direction, giving you a better look at the porcelain covering on his face. It was weirdly similar to that of the doll's face. You could also see lifted flesh along one side of his neck, all the way up and beneath his mask. You recognized it as burn scarrings. You shifted your gaze along his mask and your eyes locked with his— It only took you a fraction of a second to connect the dots.

The weird rules. The strange sounds around the house. The way the doll seemed to be moving on its own and your stuff disappearing. The mysterious fire that killed the Heelshires son. The man's mask having an uncanny resemblance to the doll.

His mask looked like Brahms because he was Brahms. He was alive and had been standing a few feet from you and staring at you.

Cole had recovered and lunged for his torso, pushing him to the ground and pinning him with his legs. A pained grunt left Brahms and you could see Cole digging something into his abdomen. Cole then lifted a bloodied fist, but before he could land a punch at Brahms's face, he was harshly shoved to the floor. Brahms was faster than him and took a hold of his hair, slamming Cole’s face to the floor and regaining the upper hand.

Cole was then face down on the floor with Brahms's body on his back and was being pinned down. His face was being lifted with great force then violently slammed down onto the floor with strength you had never witnessed. You swore the wood floors began to splinter at the force. His face was getting bloodier and more beaten. With each hit of his head to the ground, a memory of Cole's unforgiving actions flashed through your head:

The controlling Behavior

Smack

The verbal abuse

Smack

The punches and kicks

Smack

The loss of your child

SMACK

You closed your eyes as louder cracks reached your ears. It was most likely Coles skull cracking, and breaking with it, was the last chain he had over you. It was being shattered into pieces. Like he had done to your self-esteem. To your dreams. To you.

You opened your eyes when the banging stopped and the view almost made you gag. Cole's face was unrecognizable. His eyes were completely sealed shut by his swollen flesh, his nose disfigured, teeth broken and missing. Blood was everywhere. On his face. On his clothes. On the floor. On Brahms.

You stared at his blood-covered hands as he released Cole’s head and let it drop one last time. Trying to avoid the view, your eyes shifted to Brahms’s abdomen and caught a glimpse of a large bloodied stain on his dirtied white shirt. A piece of something dark was lodged into his flesh. Cole must’ve stabbed him with a piece of wood, you thought. Your thinking was interrupted when Brahms suddenly turned to you and made you jump at the sudden focus of attention. Chills ran up your spine at the sound of your name being called in that childlike voice you had heard before. The same one that had you thinking you had gone mad for hearing a child’s voice in the halls and through the phone. You went as far as to believe that the ghost of Brahms was roaming around the manor and calling out for you. But there he was. Alive.

"Are you okay?"

His concerned voice, which was mixed between high and low pitches, broken by his heavy panting, brought you back to reality. Cole was dead. Brahms killed him. He took him down within a few minutes and was obviously way stronger than him. Stronger than you.

Brahms’s didn’t move from his position on top of Cole's, now dead body, as his eyes scanned your exposed neck. You could see a pool of emotions swirl within his eyes when he looked at your marked neck before he turned his gaze away from you. And you took it as a chance to move and slowly stood up. His head quickly shot up at the sound of your movements and you froze before you could fully straighten up. Panic reflected on his eyes and he quickly scattered to stand up as well—but before he could, you ran.

Fear engulfed you once more and you sprinted to the closest exit and into the hallway. But before you could enter the foyer, two strong arms wrapped around your torso, stopping you and pulling you back. Your back was slammed against Brahms’s chest as he held you tight. Brahms let out a low grunt from the impact to his wound. But you kicked forward and clawed at his forearms for release.

"Let me go!!" You cried out. Your voice was hoarse and broken from the earlier abuse to your neck, making screaming painful. It seemed to have caught Brahms’s attention because his grip on you slightly loosened. You wasted no time and used the distraction as an opportunity to slam the back of your head to his face and pushed his arms away from your body. He stumbled backward but you didn’t bother to look behind you at his grunting form and continued to run towards the front door. Once you finally reached it. Locked.

"Nononono!" You cried in a panic as you pulled on the door handle. But it didn’t budge. It had been locked and the key that was usually inserted in the keyhole was no were to be found. You heard footsteps behind you and quickly turned. Brahms halted a few feet from you. His chest rising and falling and dark eyes staring at your distressed form.

You didn’t waste a second and darted towards the stairwell to your right. Going up two steps at a time. You had to get away from him. You didn’t know what he would do to you.

But you had seen what he was capable of.

He had just turned Cole's face into a pulp without much of a fight. He was much stronger than the man you had struggled against for months. You were in greater danger. Your body filled with a mixture of adrenaline and fear that fueled your movements.

As you continued running up the staircase, the lack of steps behind you didn’t go unnoticed. Still, you continued towards the first opened room you spotted once you reached the second level. When you entered, your eyes first landed on the moved panels off the wall. A familiar-looking hallway could be seen inside, just like the one behind the mirror from downstairs. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was chasing you from within the walls. That's how he was able to reach you so fast. The sound of movements inside the walls and rapidly approaching shadows shook you out of shock and your body rushed to push the closest dresser towards the opening. The heavy wood tilted to the ground and landed with a loud thud in front of the opening, successfully blocking him off.

You shot towards the hallway once more, set towards the kitchen, in order to exit through the back door. But before you could reach the stairs, you heard heavy steps in that direction. Brahms was fast. He was able to be on the other side of the house in a matter of seconds, even while wounded. When you heard his steps near, you ran towards a second room. You had no plan on what to do and were simply choosing flight instead of fighting. It was obvious you couldn’t put up much of a fight. His footsteps sounded right behind you but you didn’t turn until you entered the room. You quickly went to shut the door, but a hand reached between the crevice and Brahms pushed the door open. You tried to slam the door back and pushed your whole body weight against the door, but it wasn’t helping you much.

You slipped back slightly and it allowed Brahms to push his head between the opening. You quickly looked around the room for something that could help. An old telephone on the table right next to you caught your eye. You quickly reached to grab for it, and with all your strength, you slammed it against his head, making Brahms slightly stumble backward and his strength faltered. You quickly shut the door and locked it. You then moved the table in order to block the door. You took a step back, panting, looking at the door.

"Ah!"

You yelped when the door handle started to violently shake. Brahms began to pull and pound on the door. You quickly turned and ran towards the window. You gripped the edge and with all your strength tried to lift it. Bit it didn’t even move one bit. Mr. Heelshire's words rang through your head while you continue to struggle to push the window open.

"Regrettably, the last tradesman we had, managed to paint the windows shut"

"FUCK!" you cursed out in defeat. You stepped away from the window, your hands gripping your hair in frustration, and tears threaten to form in your eyes. The door handle continued to shake and the banging only intensified. You searched around the room one last time, looking for another way out. Then, a small light caught your eye. It came from between a panel in the walls that had been slightly moved. You bolted towards it and pushed it aside. You kicked off your shoes to soften the sounds of your steps before unhesitatingly ducking inside the walls. You quietly but quickly slipped into the small hallway. The banging noise became faint as you slid deeper inside the walls Brahms had used to move about the house. Both the thought and the cold from the wooden floor sent shivers up your spine.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just wanted to put as much distance between you and Brahms as you could. You were afraid. Cobwebs wrapped around you and the smell of dust reached your nostrils. Thin rays of light seeped between tiny cracks in the wall. Once you turned for the third time, you came across a door that led to a small staircase that wrapped upwards. You quickly moved along the walls and up the staircase. You only slowed down when you stumbled upon a dimly lit room.

Your eyes danced around as took it all in. The room held everything someone needed to live. A small fridge, a microwave, and canned food on small shelves that also had plates and cutlery. A small sink with a mirror hung on the wall by bookcases. Many objects hung and were scattered around the place. You had been standing in the room Brahms had been living in for the past 20 years. You scanned the small place and your eyes caught a figure on a small bed by the corner.

"Is that... my dress?"

You whispered in disbelief. There on the bed, covered in a dress you had deemed lost, was a life-size doll made out of pillows. It was also wearing your locket and bracelet you struggled to find for days. The figure was meant to resemble you. Your hands shot up to cover your mouth in shock as disturbing thoughts ran through your head. You looked away and around more and found a stack of letters on a small table by the bed. You carefully reached for the top letter which was stamped by the Heelshires. Your eyes skimmed through the letter and your heart sank to my stomach.

The Heelshires had known all along that their son was alive. They lied to you. Not only that, but they were "giving" you to him to love and keep. And they would not be coming back. Bile rose to your throat. It was all too much to take in. your pulse quickened even more and you felt like fainting, but you couldn’t stop now. You took a step back and tried to calm down your body.

"What the hell is going on!" you snarled between your teeth, trying to keep your voice low. Everything was just taking a turn for worse. The Heelshires were most possibly dead and left you to deal with their adult son whom everyone thought had died in the fire. Not to mention he had just killed your abusive ex. And you didn’t know if he had been the only one he hurt. The thought made your skin crawl.

You had to keep moving because you could hear movements approaching the small room. You stuffed the letter in your skirt pockets and continued on up a small platform with stairs. There was a hole in the walls and a ladder that led down was against the opposite wall. You ducked inside and quickly began to descend. When you reached the bottom, you jumped through another cavity and continued moving inside the walls. More light seeped through the cracks. You stopped to look between the wood panels, trying to figure out your location. You scanned the room and figured you were on the bottom floor by a lounge room. The thought of Brahms spying on you through the gaps in the wood filed you with both uneasiness and anger.

Brahms's figure suddenly passed by your place in the wall inside the room as he searched for you and you yelped backward at the sudden appearance. Your back bumped the wall behind you, the noise alerted him of your position. He called out for you once more in the child's voice. But you didn’t respond. Instead, you continued to scuttle through the tight walls. As you entered a small room filled with pipes, you were startled by the loud sound of wood crashing and breaking. Brahms had run through the wall and inside the small room. you ducked under a big pipe and turned to see him pushing off wood boards from his body. You didn’t wait long and continued on through the tangle of pipes and away from him. You caught a glimpse of a small door with a keyhole letting moonlight seep through. You wasted no time and reached for it and pushed and pulled on the door in desperation, but it didn’t budge. You froze as Brahms called for you in that clear high-pitched child voice he imitated. The memories of the voice through the phone receiver and in the halls haunted your mind. His begging for you to "come out and play" when you locked yourself in your room upon first realizing the doll had been moving around. And the pb&j sandwich you thought a ghost prepared for you as some sort of a peace offering. you turned to look back at him as he called your name again.

"Come back" His voice cracked and lost that child pitch. You could only stare in fear at him crouching and peeking through the pipes that blocked him from reaching you. You didn’t know what he would do to me if he caught you but you weren’t about to wait and find out.

"I'll be good, I will" He begged between breaths. His voice was now that of a grown man. Deeper and more clear. He moved closer. "I promise"

"No!" You yelled back trembling. "Get away from me!"

He stopped his movements and seemed taken back by your volume. You turned to continue pushing the door and struggled with the doorknob.

"Get back here" He growled. His voice dropped lower and got closer to you as he slid under the pipe.

"No!" You screamed. Tears began to prickle your eyes in panic. You slammed your shoulder on the door to no avail. You then shifted your body and continuously kicked at the door as he continued to crawl closer to your struggling figure. His approaching sounds only fueled your kicks. With one last harsh kick, the door finally slipped open and you hurried to push it fully open.

"YOU GET BACK HERE!!"

Brahms screamed as you scurried out and landed on your arms and knees onto the foliage-covered ground. You took a last glimpse behind you at his rapidly approaching figure before you propelled yourself upwards and began to full-on sprint away from him. Twigs snapped beneath your bare feet as you scuttled through branches and bushes. When you cleared the brambles, your heart sunk at the sound of Brahms crying out.

"Don't leave me!!" His voice was loud but trembling. You swear you could almost hear the pain in his plea.

But you won't look back. You’re getting out of here. You can't let him catch you. He's going to hurt you just like he hurt Cole. He's trying to manipulate you just like Cole. Your mind is filled with the horrible things that Cole did to you and the fear only intensifies. You can't have that happening again.

Your body only moves faster when you see the gates approaching. Thunder rumbles and lightning illuminates your path as sharp raindrops fall against your face. A cold rush of wind pushes you towards the exit.

But your mind and body seem to be working against each other, because when you finally reach the gates,

You stop.

Heavy breaths pull from your lungs as many thoughts race through your mind. You had spent the past weeks living a lie. You dedicated your time to caring for a doll the Heelshires called son while their real son lived locked away, hiding between the walls. He has been devoided of the outside world for twenty years. He didn’t die and the fire was all a coverup. Malcolm had told you that Brahms was suspected of killing a little girl when he was only 8. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the possibility of a child ending another's life. Your heart hammers against your chest and you begin to feel dizzy. The Heelshires forced him to live within the walls of his own home and away from civilization. He was just a child. Your chest aches at the thought of a small scared child having to endure that. Even if he had been raised a spoiled kid that always had it his way, it wouldn’t prove that he was capable of killing another kid.

"It's not fair!"

You huff out in desperation and ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms.

His parents most likely treated him differently now that he lived within the walls. By the scars you saw on his body, he was probably burned in the fire the Heelshires definitely started and they possibly even forced him to wear the mask. You can't even begin to think how horrible life has been for him all these years. He's not at fault. Yes, he killed Cole. But it’s possible he did it in order to protect you. You were the one to cry out for him. Cole would’ve killed you if he didn’t interfere. And he also got hurt in the process. For you. Cole stabbed him in the abdomen, maybe even impaled a major organ. He could die..

"Shit! No! NO! Stop it!" You curse at yourself in frustration and pull at the roots of your damp hair with your hands, digging your nails into your scalp.

You had been the one caring for him these past weeks. Even if you didn’t know he was alive and was babysitting a fucking doll, he was still relying on you to follow the schedule in order to survive. He tried to make you believe the doll was haunted, but only to ensure you didn’t discover his existence and followed the rules. Brahms Only wanted someone to care for him. This whole time, he hadn’t hurt you. What if he wasn’t trying to do so now. What if he's just scared you’ll abandon him like his parents did?

"I can't leave him...."

You take a deep breath and before you can step past the gates, you turn back towards the manor.

—————————————————————————

Micheal Myers!: (333 words!)

You slowly walk towards the closet door, after hearing a noise. You curse yourself for even walking toward the door and checking out the noise instead of getting the fuck out of there. You quickly open the door to find a tall handsome man wearing a white mask. Silence filled the room for a while. Micheal was waiting for you to scream and run away because he was in the mood for a good victim chase. "... Im not going to lie your kinda cute," you say while taking a small step back. Micheal was brought into a state of confusion, he thought "what the fuck are they on?". You continued again "Your eyes do seem cold but are somehow pretty, like the darkness of the night". Micheal was surprised under the mask, he had never had someone not run away from him or really show interest, but here you are hitting on him. He kinda liked it, Micheal never really felt like he was really loved, Of course, he was confused as shit because his heartfelt weird but also nice." You continue again "Wow, You have a deep cut on your hand, want me to help you out there honey". At this moment Micheal cracked a smile, it was a small one but he still smiled. Micheal took a small step back realizing what he had just done. Micheal's heart was practically melting. Micheal felt so loved, it was so weird but nice. He held out his hand with the deep cut and watched you take it. "come on, to the kitchen". you said wondering how the fuck did you not get stabbed. Micheal was wondering why he didn't just stab you, why he didn't just strangle you, why he just fell in love with you, why were you grabbing a snack while you were in the middle of doctoring his hand. Micheal didn't know but whatever the answer is he still loved this moment and will stop by every day.

Bubba Sawyer!: (252 words!)

*Thump* "BUBBA! YOUR ASS BETTER BE DOWN HERE, I GOT A LITTLE GIFT FOR YOU!" Bubba's father yelled as he threw you down the last few steps and climbed back up the stairs and slammed the door shut. You looked up to see, a tall-ish man wearing a stitched mask, it looks like he was putting on makeup and messed up while doing his lipstick. Bubba was slightly shocked when you didn't scream, like the last few victims he killed. There was a bit more silence before you spoke "Your kinda cute, not going to lie." Bubba was static, he had never got a compliment and was pretty happy with the compliment. You began again "your makeup is nice too, but you messed up on the lipstick, want me to help you fix that sweetheart?" It was at this moment Bubba knew you were the person he was going to marry. No one else just you, he quickly helped you up, threw you over his shoulder carried you to his little area where he does his makeup. Bubba grabs a damp cloth and a pretty red lipstick and hands it to you. You can tell Bubba is in awe, as up began to clean his messy makeup up and put on the red lipstick. Bubba wonders why he didn't just rip your face off, why he gave into you flirting so quickly, and most importantly how is he going to tell his father he is going to date you no matter what.

Brahms Heelshire!: (281 words!)

*CRASH*, You heard glass break from one of the mirrors. You look from your book, to see a human version of the doll Brahms. After he emerged out of the wall, silence filled the room. Brahms was waiting for like a scream or you running out the door or something. "Im not going to lie, your kinda cute," You say while looking at Brahms. Brahms knew he looked at least somewhat good but that was just his ego and self-confidence, he did not expect you to say that. Brahms slightly nudged forward at your comment. "Such a pretty boy, your scaring on your body somehow suits you." you began. Brahms looks at his hands, he does have a few scars on them. He fell in love even more, not only were you adorable, but you also didn't make fun of him, even though he is a wall rat. "I like your cardigan, it looks pretty." Brahms being in awe takes off his cardigan, walks over to you, and puts it on you. You Mc fucked up with giving Brahms a bit of extra love, now you have to deal with an in awe Brahms, which depending on whether or not you like being cuddled the rest of the day and night is kinda good. "such a pretty boy" You say again, Brahms really felt loved, he didn't even question anything at that moment didn't ask "why is this person, flirting with me, Why didn't I just kill them, Why didn't they run or why am I a simp?" He did not care what the answer was as long as he could have you all to himself he was fine.

Freddy Krueger!: (210 words!)

You were slowly dosing off fighting to stay awake to finish your horror movie. While you are slowly dosing off you see s silhouette of a man with sharp claws. Sadly you fall asleep before you can ask who was there.  In you're dream you looked like you were in an ally you saw the shadow of the man, you noticed he must have been behind you. You calmly turned around to see a burnt man, with a knife glove. You didn't have a reaction surprisingly, which kinda made Freddy impressed. "Not gonna lie, your kinda cute," you say while looking Freddy up and down. "Yeah, I know, that's the point of living twice, looking even hotter the second time" Freddy answered you with a smile on his face. "Your burns fit you, they really bring out your eyes and smile", You start up again. Freddy must have just been struck by cupid at that moment. "Oh... Why thank you little nightmare".  Freddy was truly in love, though he felt easy to get, he really didn't care at all. He is now going to make time to stop by in your dreams, he will make you one of his regulars, just one he won't kill in the end.

Jason Vorhees!: (206 words)

You were in the woods picking some flowers to make a bouquet being mind full of the wildlife around you. You hear a loud noise behind you, you snap your head around to see a big body-built man. You both kinda just stand there awkwardly looking at each other quietly. You finally spoke up “I am not going to lie to you, you are kinda cute.” Jason was static, He had only ever got a compliment from his mother. You continued “Your mask also suits you, very cool and pretty!” Yep, Jason just died of blushing, he is in love. Only his mother ever gave him love and sometimes she didn’t. “Looks like you got quite a cut there, want to head back to my cabin to get bandaged up? If you don’t mind of course,” You say looking at the gash on his arm.  Jason was struck by cupid, Not only you were adorable, but you were also so sweet! He nodded not questioning a thing as you two walked back to the old cabin happily. Jason knew he was going to stop by your cabin every day he can get a chance. You really pulled Jason’s heartstrings, he really did feel loved by you.