#halloween2018

Note: I've been having these recently, and I decided to write about how Slashers of my choosing reacting to the reader eating a Pb & P sandwich

Jason Voorhees, Michael myers (Og, RZ, and Peepaw), Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, The Sinclair Twins, Lester Sinclair, and Corey Cunningham

"Beste Reste"⁠ "Best leftovers"⁠

Halloween 2018:⁠ Die Krampus Mär⁠ The Krampus fairytale⁠⁠

This is mainly for my own comfort. Also sorry for being gone so long 

Peepaw Michael

“I’m proud of you,”

He’s noticed. No matter how well you’d thought you’d hidden them he’d noticed.

He’ll not say anything about them though. It’s your business. But he’ll listen if you decide to open up to him.

If things get tough for you he’ll keep an extra eye on you. He doesn’t want you hurting yourself anymore.

Vincent

“Thank you for opening up to me,”

He might’ve noticed but he’d never ask about them. He’d wait for you to tell him.

He’d check in with you every few days to make sure you’re okay.

He notices the little things about you. So if you’ve been having a tough time he’ll abandon his work for you.

Bo

“I understand.”

He already knew what they were once he saw them. Once he noticed them he became a lot more gentle with you as if you’d break.

Having scars himself he understood why you’d hide them.

Comfort

Morning Sex

The Second Half of the Halloween Keyblades!

Summery: Michael Myers has been incarcerated in Smiths Grove for 40 years when a supposedly dangerous murderess moves into his room. A kind of protective instinct comes over the Haddonfield killer. But how it has to happen, he is relocated, breaks out and we know what follows. But are so many deaths really inevitable? Or does Michael not only change himself, but also the young Alyssa?

Warnings: violence, language, maybe some upcoming smut, slow burn

Arc 1 Smiths Grove

chapter 1

"Don't you think he's going to kill her?" the guard's question boomed through the corridors of the sanitarium. "We all know what he's capable of. But do you think we can just leave him in solitary confinement forever? He has a right to society." The Warden was unsure what to think about the Doc's decisions. If Loomis were still here, he would never have allowed this to happen. But Loomis was no more.

10 a.m. showed the clock above the door. The ticking of it was Michael's only background noise in his room. He sat waiting on the edge of his bed. The guard should have been there by now to pick him up for his weekly therapy session. He's never been picked up too late. And his doc has never skipped a session of bugging him about his former victims. He never said anything or showed any emotion, but the Doc always had something to write down. In four months he would be transferred. Then the regular meetings were over. The new institution gave no value to its patients. They just made sure nobody got out and didn't die of malnutrition. They didn't care about the rest. This seemed to annoy his doctor, but Michael didn't care. It didn't matter to him whether he sat in the room all day or stood outside in the yard. What food he got. The sun was shining outside. Michael stared out of his barred window as usual. Opposite him was a new bed that the cleaning staff had put in the last time. Michael had been in that room alone for 40 years, but he still knew what the new bed meant. But if he cared in any way, he didn't show it.Footsteps could be heard and shortly afterwards the rustling of a bunch of keys. The door to his cell opened and Dr. Sartain stood in the doorway. Close behind him were two guards with a young woman. She wore the same clothes as Michael. He hadn't expected anything specific, but men and women were actually kept separate. So why this exception? However, he gave no sign that he was thinking about it, but continued to stare stubbornly out of the window. Sartain walked into the room. "I have a little surprise for you, Michael." He waved in the direction of the guards, who then let the woman into the room. "She's staying here with you from now on, Michael. But be careful. She's dangerous. Her Name is Alyssa Johnson." And with those words, everyone left the room except for Michael and the woman. She didn't look dangerous. Rather scared. Was it him? Of course, what else? Everyone was afraid of him. She walked slowly towards her new bed and lay down rather stiffly. She had directed her gaze at the ceiling so she had Michael in the corner of her eye. He noticed that, but didn't show it.

Two weeks passed and the young woman thawed a little. While at first she kept as far away as possible, she now even sat next to him in the yard and at meals. Sartain made sure the two were always together. She was even chained with him in the yard. No safety distance, nothing. Michael stayed absolutely still. He didn't intentionally scare her, nor did he show if he cared that she was thawing out more and less distant. Sartain seemed amazed. But actually he should have known that there would be no reaction from Michael. He wanted Michael to show some sort of reaction. Maybe even what said. But neither an attempt to keep the woman away nor any other reaction followed the entry of the woman into Michael's room. The two stood in the yard. Chains attached to both, the girl sat with her eyes closed inches from the former Haddonfield engraver. No sign that it could bother him. Michael stood there calmly and stared into the distance. Alyssa now had her eyes open again and was scratching the stones with her and Michaels chains. Michael felt the chains holding him in place move. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her carve little patterns into the stones. The other patients had all turned in her direction and were shouting unpleasant teases at her. Michael was surprised that none of the guards intervened. But it didn't interest what the patients said to her. The only thing that bothered him was that everyone was looking at them. The woman seemed a bit uncomfortable because she hid a little bit behind Michael. Sartain observed the scene attentively. He could quickly explain to himself that she was looking to Michael for protection. Alyssa knew what Michael was capable of. The psychiatrist had made sure she knew that. But Michael hadn't done anything to her. He had made no attempt to harm her in any way. That made the woman feel safe with him. Sartain couldn't say whether she was safe with him, but at the moment Michael was the only one standing between the other patients and her. The chains would stop them, of course, but Michael's tall frame also somewhat hid the unobstructed view of the young woman. And Michael just stood there and let her crouch behind his form. Even closer than before.

"You think he'll protect you?" yelled one of the detainees. Another yelled, "As soon as he gets the chance, he'll rip you to pieces, little bitch." Some patients became abusive after failing to meet any of the hook-ups. Michael heard every word. He felt her crawl a little closer to him and hide behind his right leg. He saw her pained expression in the corner of his eye and wondered again why nobody intervened. "It won't give you security, little one. But you'll be safe with me," came the voice of another patient from further back in the corner of the courtyard. He grinned dirty at the woman, who then buried her face in Michael's leg and clung to him. It was nothing unfamiliar for Michael.It's been like this for about 3 days and he kept wondering why nobody stepped in. And again he let her cling to his leg without a reaction. In the beginning she was scared as hell of him and not sleeping at night either, which Michael not only noticed at night, but also noticed from her dark circles under her eyes for the first few days, and now she saw him as a protection. As someone who won't hurt her and maybe even protect her. That kind of attention didn't know Michael before. People were afraid of him. Or curious like Sartain. But nobody had ever seen him as a protector, let alone dared to get that close without guards to watch over him that Michael didn't try anything.

This is how time passed in the yard. The detainees kept shouting at Alyssa and she continued to bury her face in Michael's leg. He hadn't even tried to push her away. No, he just left her with him. That surprised Sartain even more than the fact that he hadn't shown any reaction to her before. The time was up and the guards began taking the patients back to their rooms one by one. Michael would come last, as always. Or rather he and his roommate. She hadn't let go of him yet and only did so when the guards now approached her and Michael. The chains were loosened from the reinforced concrete floor. The two patients were still connected by the chains when they were taken to their room. It was only there that they were taken from them and left alone. The heavy steel door fell shut and was bolted. The woman lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She hadn't talked much since she'd been here. Maybe she was adjusting to Michael, or maybe she didn't talk that much on her own. Now and then she would whisper a thank you in his direction when they came into her room from the yard. There was never a reaction from him, but that didn't stop her from saying thank you every time.

She looked up at the clock. In about 30 minutes they were taken to dinner. Both of them spent the meantime sitting or lying on their beds. Alyssa slept a lot, at least since she felt safer in Michael's presence. There was nothing to do here, so he assumed she was sleeping out of boredom. He, on the other hand, looked out of the window or at the opposite wall most of the time. Every now and then he looked at her to see if she was still asleep. But now she sat up straight again, waiting for the dinner escort. The night before, she asked the guard if she could get something to write. He only said that he could not leave any sharp objects in their hands unobserved. She then whispered that she was innocent, but the guard just snorted derisively. Michael didn't know why she was there, but she didn't look crazy or dangerous. Instead, she was quiet and reserved. But she was very bored. Once she had spent an hour shaking up her bed. This took so long because she did it three times in a row. Eventually she threw herself on the bed and messed everything up again. The desperation was written on her face. He could swear he heard her cry sometimes at night. Michael got up and went to her. Surprised she looked up at him. A touch of fear rose in her eyes. He had never shown any reaction towards her and now he was approaching her? Did she annoy him? Would he kill her now? She was too scared to act. She stared at him motionless, just hoping it would be quick. But he didn't hurt her. True? He stretched out his right hand to her. His good blue eye fixed her, but she couldn't see any emotion in his gaze. He put his hand on her chin. He seemed to be looking for something. He looked at her absently and held her chin in a firm grip. She dared not move, even though she had regained the ability. All she did was look back at him. She had never looked at him that closely. She was always afraid that this would make him angry. At least she knew how angry he'd gotten when his mask was taken away. Or so she had heard. She was too young to have seen Halloween night in 1978. That was 40 years ago now. And she was in her mid-twenties at most.

Michael released his hand but didn't look away. Both stared at each other in silence. When he had his hand on her chin, he could clearly feel her rapid heartbeat. He had startled her. But she relaxed a bit now. In her eyes he could see a thousand question marks. Confusion was evident in her gray eyes. Her pupils were still slightly dilated from the shock, but that also subsided. Michael enjoyed her reaction, but on the other hand, he had no intention of startling her. But now he had the answers he wanted. A young woman who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, she really was innocent and didn't belong in this institution. Was it pity he felt? A feeling he didn't know, but she was being punished for something she hadn't done. Her lawyer seemed to try everything to prove her innocent, but he could not prevent the arrest. She was brought here, notorious for being extremely dangerous. But what did they hope to lock up together with him? Did the hope he would kill her? Or the other way around? But she was safe. She couldn't hurt him even if she tried. And Michael had no intention of harming her. She wasn't in his way and she wasn't his typical victim either. Nothing about her made him want to get rid of her. No drive to raze them to the ground. There were many who believed he would kill at random. But only he knew the answer. She lowered her gaze a little, causing Michael to tilt his head slightly. Was their eye contact uncomfortable? She hadn't looked anyone in the eye for more than 3 seconds before.Only the look just lasted longer. But now she sat in front of him with her eyes downcast and now found her tiptoes very interesting. Michael didn't turn away, though. He was examining her properly now. Before, he had only watched her out of the corner of his eye. Now he had the opportunity to examine her properly. Was that uncomfortable for her? She wore the same patient clothing as he did. He could see that this was not cut for women. Her dark blonde hair fell somewhat disheveled over her shoulders. She was quite short compared to him, but she must have been around 1.65m or 1.70m. She wore no jewelry except for a small bracelet on her right wrist. It was a plain black ribbon. She had taken off her slippers and her feet were dangling from the bed. The beds weren't low, but he could easily touch the floor when he was sitting. She got a little nervous again. He stood so close to her that their knees almost touched. He enjoyed it when others were afraid, even if he didn't show it, but in this case he didn't enjoy it anymore. He didn't do anything to her and yet she became more restless again. Was it the uncertainty? She didn't know what he wanted from her.

The lock clicked and the door opened. Two guards stood in the doorway. Her gaze wandered to these, but Michael didn't take his eyes off their small form. "Step back, Myers," one of the guards said gruffly. Michael took a step back and was now also looking in the direction of the door. His expression, as always, undefinable to have the chains put on. Michael followed close behind her. They were led into the dining room and they sat down at their table, to which they were also chained. Alyssa had sat down again next to Michael and tried to ignore the eyes of the others. The patients all ate together in one room. It was obvious that Alyssa would have preferred to eat in her room. Outside the room she was tense, a tension that Michael was always aware of. To minimize contact between the patients, the food was distributed to the tables. In normal prisons, food was taken from the counter, Alyssa knew from the television. She ate slowly, like her roommate, but with her it was to be distracted for as long as possible. This allowed her to somewhat ignore the spells thrown at her. Michael usually ate rather slowly. When he was done, he pushed the tablet away from him and stared at the edge of the table on the other side. Alyssa was now finished and looked at his tablet. She then looked at Michael uncertainly. "Are you still eating this?" she asked him, her expression shy and wary. He made no response. She looked down at her hands and didn't ask again. Michael had left his jelly. He didn't eat his dessert often. Usually, the kitchen helpers would throw away the remaining food without saying a word. The tall man looked from the edge of the table to his pudding and then to the woman. He took it and put it in front of her nose. She looked up at him in surprise. A small smile curled her lips. The first time he saw her smile. It was a warm smile, Michael noticed. "Thanks, Michael," she said, reaching for the mug and a spoon that were still on her tablet. Michael looked at her for a moment and then turned his gaze back to the edge of the table.