Slasher Preferences and One-Shots

"How?" (Michael Myers x Reader)

Countless nights of his life had been spent like this. No voices, no out of body style urges..nothing detracting him from what his own body needed most- and frankly what he desired- and yet, sleep hadn't come easy. The tired, heavy sensation in his eyes was annoying, almost painful, but there was nothing he could do to provide himself relief. There was simply no solution to this problem.

Usually, whenever Michael found himself in such a predicament, he'd simply forget even attempting to sleep- instead choosing to raise from the bed and wander aimlessly until the exhaustion finally overtook him- but now things weren't quite as simple. Now he had someone else involved.

He had you.

He had you and your foolish, peacefully resting body nestled into his side so flush that he could feel the melodic, gentle beat of your very much so alive heart in your chest. It was actually nice, even if he hadn't realized he felt that way- the touch granting him the smallest bit of serenity despite the loathsome inability to truly rest he now fell victim to.

What's even more crazy is that he didn't toy with the idea of making you suffer alongside him. No matter how strong the impulse to wake you was, he just couldn't bring himself to do so. Why? Perhaps it was because he simply didn't want to disrupt the tranquility of your soft, comatose face- finding the strangest beauty within gazing upon it.

Then again, he wasn't too shocked to be confronted with these feelings. He was no stranger to the way you made him feel, even though he once thought such feelings were impossible- if actually real at all.

He could still remember it, the first day he saw you. It was of course, from afar- just a happenstance moment in fate. If focused on the memory enough, he could almost see the whole scene with such clarity it was almost as though he were reliving it all over again.

You were just some person, beautiful yet uncomplicated. Just some person that happened to walk down the sidewalk in front of his old home just as he peered out into the window. He could remember with perhaps the greatest purity how you made his own heart clench for some odd reason when you smiled, orange autumn leaves crunching  and crumbling in your path as you carelessly trampled them.

Where were you going? Why did you smile? There was no one near you, no animal, no phone..nothing. Could you maybe feel him? Did you feel the pang in your chest as well without even looking at him?

Some of those were questions he still didn't know the answer to, even after everything you've been through. Even after you somehow fell in love with..teaching him what that terrible thing was. Surely he once thought seeing that pretty face of your's turn purple..maybe just stabbing you, would make it all better- but now the thought did something awful to him- it horrified him.

How? How did you do this to him?