𝗣𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 #𝟴𝟰𝟮 // Michael Myers x Fem! Reader

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

"𝐖𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬; 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

1/16/77

(911): "911 what's your emergency?"

(...): "H-help me! Help me please!"

(911): "What's the emergency?"

(...): "My dad.. He's hurt. I-i don't know what happened, please help me."

(911): "Are you hurt too miss? What's your name?"

(Y/N): "Y-yes my ankle.. My name is (Y/N).. (Y/N) Fraser."

(911): "The police are on their way ma'am."

         . . . 

You sat on the freezing porch for the duration of the night, frozen against the cold. The blanket that was tightly wrapped around you was to some degree frozen to it. 

 All that was heard were police sirens surrounding you, and the whispers of everybody else, which annoyed you to no end.

All over the place were cops and neighbors trying to talk to you with no response back. We were all waiting impatiently for the ambulance, looks like they aren't in a rush. The cops could have taken you to the hospital at anytime- Did they just not care?

 Everything was muffled as you looked down at your bruised and bloody body. The adrenaline rush in your system made sure to numb all of your wounds. Even your obviously shattered ankle. The bone stuck out through your flesh a bit and it was twisted into an unrealistic position.

 Your body was shaking against the harsh cold, freezing the tears onto your reddened cheeks. It happened again, it had to of.

You didn't remember anything other than calling the cops when you saw your father's bloody body lying on the ground. It's hard to tell what happens to you when you black out, it's no use to get diagnosed when nobody tells you what happens. It's been like this since your mom died.

 'My vision is so blurry'.. you thought as your eyes scanned over the crime scene. There were concerned citizens of Haddonfield all over the street peering over at you. Tears softly streamed down your face as footsteps made their way to you.

Your eyes landed on a bulky steel-toed boot that obviously belonged to an officer. His lips were moving but you couldn't hear a thing.

 Squinting up at him, you slowly heard your name repeat out of his mouth a few times before your ears decided to work. "(Y/N)?" Finally, his voice was loud and clear.

Sighing, he picked you up princess style and carried you over to the incoming ambulance. Immediately the drivers rushed over to you, apologizing to both you and the cops for the wait. Wincing softly when they lifted you up, it showed they were trying their best to not agitate the ankle. When the ambulance got here the cops took no hesitation to search the house completely.