Summary: Michael is chasing you and gets hard lmao

Note: He isn’t trying to kill you and this is the first time I have written something this long in a while so it might not be the best.

Living in the forest had its pros and cons. One of the big ones? The chasing. The thrill of the hunt. Both you and Michael got a thrill out of it. You being the prey. Him being the predator.

The wet mud squelched underneath you as you ran. The uneasy feeling of his stare never left you, no matter how far you ran. Your feet slipped from underneath you making you fall and roll down a small bank. You dug your fingers into the ground and pulled yourself up. Quickly you wiped your hands on your jeans and continued. The soreness in your throat began to grow as you tried to regulate your breathing. You tripped again, falling hard against the ground. Hands grabbed at your shoulders and turned you on your back.

It was the year 1981 at 10:02 p.m. My heart pounded in my chest as I limped through the dimly lit hallways of the hospital, a small trail of crimson red blood leaked down my leg. I had been stabbed. Who was my soon-to-be killer, you ask? None other than the infamous Michael Myers.

After a horrifying, bloody babysitting job with my sister, Laurie, I rushed her to the hospital to stop the bleeding from where the infamous Boogeyman had stabbed her. Everything was fine. We had somehow escaped from Michael and gotten help. Laurie was rushed to the surgery room, while I was tended to for some minor bruises on my neck where Michael had tried to suffocate me to death. Everything hurt like hell. My massive headache made it feel like the room was spinning in infinite circles. I was waiting down the hall from where Laurie was recovering from the horrific event. I had my eyes closed, sitting in the hard chair waiting for the doctor to give us the “OK” so we could go home.

Only, I didn’t hear any of that. Or even see the doctor either. All I heard was one thing I hoped I would never hear again after tonight.

“AAAHHHHH! Y/N!!!”

Laurie.

My eyes shot open and I almost fell over as I ran to Laurie’s hospital room. She wasn’t there. Was I too late? Was she already gone?

“Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?!” I heard Laurie scream again.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I darted down the hall towards her voice. I turned a few corners, finally finding her slowly limping away from something due to her surgery.

“Laurie!” I shouted. I caught her in a hug as she practically collapsed in my arms. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Y-y/N..” She stammered out. “He’s here.”

I could feel my heart stop for a second.

“You don’t mean...”

I somehow heard both light and heavy footsteps. I looked up and fear was struck in me.

Michael. Fucking. Myers.

The two pitch black holes on his mask, to represent his eyes, looked like two dark, cold pools. From which I would drown in my own blood. A shiver was sent down my spine.

Based on the fact that Michael was a fast walker and Laurie was practically crawling, I was about to have a goddamn panic attack. So I knew that only one of us would be able to make it in the end. And it was going to be Laurie. As Michael began walking towards us, a bloody knife in hand, and picked up Laurie and dashed for the nearest exit.

It was locked. Of fuckin’ course it was!

I dashed down another hallway, with Laurie in my arms, her hands clinging to me. After I had almost given up hope, I had found an operation room with what looked like people were inside. I rushed her inside, barely being able to place her on the table without dropping her.

Three doctors and a nurse turned and dropped what they were doing when they saw the state that Laurie was in.

“What the hell happened to her?” One of them asked as they put a pair of gloves on.

“I-I think she got stabbed. I don’t know where.” I blurted out. I stopped for barely a second to pick up and shove a small scalpel in my pocket, before heading back out the doors.

“Wait!” One of the nurses called after me whilst placing a hand on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t respond I just pushed through the doors and speed-walked down the hallway.

I turned the corner and there he was. 6′ 9″, blood covering his hands, and a kitchen knife clenched in one of them.

 I turned and ran in another direction hoping he would follow me and not find Laurie. I glanced back and he was indeed following me. Rushing down the endless hallways, I finally saw a glowing “EXIT” sign above my head with an arrow pointing to the right. If I could get him outside, someone would surely see him chasing me and call the police. Then this nightmare would finally be over. Or, so I thought.

Just seconds away from freedom, I went to turn the corner and rush out the doors when I felt a heart-spiking pain in my calf. Looking down I saw Michael’s knife lodged in my lower leg. He had perfectly thrown the knife and had it lodged in my leg. I let out a scream of pain and almost dropped to the floor, barely catching myself on a wall. As his footsteps became louder, my strength became weaker. I could barely stand, basically dragging myself through the last few steps I needed to take in order to get out.

Suddenly, a pair of cold hands wrapped around my ankles pulling me back. I screamed and yelled hoping someone would hear, but no one did. After pulling me back, he picked me up by the throat and slammed he against the nearest wall. I could slowly feel the air leaving my body and not coming back.

Regretting what I was going to do next, I reached into my pocket and grabbed the scalpel, jamming it into the side of Michael’s neck. He let out a loud grunt and loosened his grip a bit. I took the opportunity and kicked him in his- well, do I really need to say it?

This time I was dropped to the ground harshly as Michael dropped to his knees and let out a groan. But his pain didn’t last for long. Not even seconds after, he was back up again and this time he ripped the knife from my leg, blood squirting out. I didn’t even scream this time, I was too tired and weak.

I was picked up by the collar of my shirt. Michael had the knife clenched in his hand, ready to kill me and end my life. I closed my eyes and prepared for death to wash over me. But only, it didn’t happen. There was no stabbing, no choking, and no death.

I opened my eyes to see Michael just staring at me. A tilt of his head, and his grip on my shirt tightened a bit as I leaned away. It was like that for a few seconds, before he placed me back on the ground, not slamming me this time, and walked towards the exit. As his hand was placed on the door handle, he took a quick glance back at me, made what sounded like a scoff, then walked out into the night.

OG Myers

Stop cursing!!

He hates it when you curse at the TV, so he’ll throw occasional glares at you from across the living room.

If you stay up late gaming he’ll try and coax you to bed through…various…methods.

He enjoys playing the sims with you. Especially if you have any murder mods installed.

Brahms

Why aren’t you giving me attention?

Brahms will play with you. If you let him win. You didn’t realise that until a few matches of Mortal Kombat.

He loves playing Minecraft. He hogged your game so much you eventually convinced him to buy his own.

He likes you to sit on his lap while you play for his…personal reasons…

Jason

Don’t stare at the tv for too long.

He’s never taken an interest in video games. But he’ll happily sit and listen to ramble about whatever game you’ve been playing recently.

If you forget to eat while grinding animal crossing he’ll bring you snacks and something to drink.

i dont own michael myers and will admit that i got this idea from a tv show (not going to say for spoliers so if you want to know pm me). also michael is ooc in this one

A HOME | MICHAEL MYERS

MY HANDS SHOOK as I folded the last of the laundry. The last of his laundry. I wish I never washed them because then they would still smell like him. Tears threatened to fall as I brought one of his shirts up to my nose and inhaled.

Life with him had changed drastically. He went from a man of no words to a man of many. Not that he actually spoke, but he was a quick learner to sign language. If I closed my eyes then I could still feel the ghost of his hand trailing down my face.

A sob wracked through my body, not being able to contain it anymore. I didn't want to live without him but now I was faced with no other option. Why couldn't Loomis just leave us alone? It had been two fucking years since Michael had killed.

Smuggling the killer out of Haddonfield wasn't hard nor was getting him a fake ID. He did everything he could for me. Michael once told me I curbed the murderous feelings that coursed through him. A swell of pride happened to go through me at that.  

Since he still didn't have much patience with others than me, I taught him how to use a computer. Somehow he started a very successful blog about murdering, but in a writing sense. More like how to give tips on how to write a horror book. It was funny to see the Michael Myers hunched over a computer.

I don't know how it happened, but we were living a nice and normal life.

But Loomis took that all away.

I used the sleeve of Michael's old sweatshirt to wipe away the tears before putting away his shirts in our shared drawer. That's where I found a piece of paper with an address on it. I stood there debating for a while whether or not I should go to it before slipping my converse on.

The neighbors said hi to me and asked where Michael - or Mitch - was, but I ignored them. I could see them share a look as I put the address into my GPS.

It was only a half-hour away, but it still felt extremely long with the nerves coursing through me. What could be so important that he had to hide it in our dresser?

I turned down a gravel road, my jaw dropping when I saw the farmhouse that came into view. It was two stories with a wrap-around porch - something that always appealed to me. There was a barn that seemed to be in the middle of being fixed.

There was a key inside the mailbox and I used to it unlock the door. The house was clean and filled with some furniture. I watched into my dream kitchen to find a note on the counter. My hands still shook as I grabbed it gently and flipped it open to see his horrible handwriting.

a home to grow old in - m

The tears began again as I fell against the cabinets and began to sob again. I always talked about living in a secluded area to grow old in because I hated the sounds of the city. It would bring me comfort especially living with Michael where we don't have to hide.

It took a while before getting up to explore the rest of the house. My heart stopped when I saw a nursery and a half-built crib inside of it. How did he know? I didn't tell anyone and even hid the test.

I clutched my stomach as the tears spilled once again as bile rolled up my throat. I fell to my knees again and clutched the softwood. Michael did all of this for us and Loomis took that. We were hours away from Haddonfield, no were close to a place he should have been.

But yet all it took was one stroll down the street and that was all gone.

My jaw clenched as I stood up and raced down the stairs. I couldn't be there anymore, not when it was filled with empty promises.

WHEN I GOT back to my home, I curled into a ball and rocked back and forth on my couch. It was too quiet without Michael around. I hit my hand on the remote accidentally turning on the T.V. to show a clip of Loomis being interviewed.

"How do you feel to finally have killed the Haddonfield slasher fully aware that this time he isn't coming back?" The lady questioned as Loomis smiled at her in what seemed to be peace. Rage filled my heart as I watched him.

"Amazing. I studied Michael for years and I saw what he was capable of. He isn't capable of love and compassion, only rage and murder." I curled my fist, my nails digging into my palm as he gave a smug grin. "He is nothing but the embodiment of pure evil."

I threw the remote at the T.V. not caring that it cracked. "Lies!" I screamed before rocking back and forth again.

"I'm glad that Michael Myers is gone and everyone can rest peacefully."

I can't. My child is going to grow up without their father all because this man couldn't let go.

A small whimper left my lips as I shook my head, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. I closed my eyes before resting my head on the back of the couch. A sense of calm washed over me as I made up my mind.

Slowly, I stood from my spot before taking my time to get upstairs. I knelt in front of the trunk before taking the key from my neck. A soft click sounded in the silent room before I slowly opened it.

In there folded nicely was Michael's old mechanic suit and his old knife on top of it. We never cleaned it and dried blood of his last victim was caked to it. Next to it was the same exact suit he stole for me our first Halloween together.

I rolled my eyes at him and wore it to amuse him - which it really did - but it had made him so happy. A tear left my eye as I began to strip and put it on. I grabbed the knife before setting it to the side and picked up his suit before putting it where mine was.

The mask that started it all stared back at me and I lightly trailed my finger down the cheek. It took me a year to get him comfortable enough to not need it. I grabbed it before slipping it over my face and grabbing the knife in a tight grip.