☠️ ᏰᎧᎧᎶᏋᎩᎷᏗᏁ ᏰᏝᏬᏋᏕ☠️

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Michael pulled his sharp knife out of someone's skull, their expression showing nothing but horror. Good. That's the way they should look. They should all fear him. He tilted his head in satisfaction as he threw their corpse to the ground - the shadows swallowing up the body. That was enough... enough for today. He'd continue tomorrow. But right now he had somewhere else he had to be.

The killer needed to go back and check on (Y/n). He remembered how lonely she seemed to get, and how happy she was whenever they hung out together. Those memories were what fuelled Michael - those precious, precious memories. They were what kept him sane; what kept him going. He recalled how frustrated he was after he got forcefully taken to Smith's Grove, without being allowed so much as a goodbye.

Michael used the cover of darkness to swiftly enter his house from the back, sneaking into the hallway and listening for (Y/n). Had she perhaps fallen asleep? She certainly wasn't making any noise. That in itself could be pinned down as suspicious. He didn't want to be so on edge, but there was no way he could trust her right now. Angel stabbed him and acted selfishly - so how could he trust (Y/n)?

He ghosted up the stairs and stared at the broken door in rage, realising that his suspicions were correct. She wasn't sleeping or purposely staying quiet - she had escaped. This made the masked male extremely angry, slicing the wall with his knife as he tried to contain his bitter fury. Why would no one stay with him? He hadn't killed her, but maybe he should've tried harder to keep her trapped.

So where would she be? The logical answer would be her house across the street, which meant he'd have to start there. He was twitching with unstable anger - the frustration of having to track her down again settling in. Once he found her, she would be sorry. Michael left through the front door, his enraged eyes glaring towards the other side of the road whilst he moved closer to her house.

A few minutes later he'd broken into her house almost effortlessly, trying to pursue his object of obsession. (Y/n) wasn't going to get away from Michael; he wouldn't let her. She wasn't at her house, that was one place he could strike off the list. If she didn't go towards her own house she most likely tried to go to her friend for help. (Y/n) wouldn't receive any help, because her friend wasn't there.

The other clever place to go would be the police station, but would she've made it there so quickly? No...She'd try to find a shortcut, because (Y/n) was creative like that. However Michael was smarter. The woods. She knew it was a shortcut and besides, that was where she'd bumped into him. His love had to be in the woods, making her way towards the authorities. Well he would stop that little attempt right now.

The stalker slipped into the tree-filled area; acting like a predator as he hunted for his prey. Except this prey wasn't to kill, this prey was to stay with him and only him. He would isolate her. She wouldn't need anyone else. Michael had excellent listening skills, so he softened his footsteps and used his hearing instead of his vision. He continued onwards after a minute or two, hearing distressed sounds to the left of him.

Worry washed through the stalker as he spotted (Y/n), his sweetheart shaking on the ground. Her clothes were torn and her shoulder was bleeding, looking like she'd just been defeated in a fight. Had someone attacked her? No...She must've done that to herself whilst escaping. Michael pushed his annoyance away and approached her, recognising her panic attack from when they were kids.

"I-Is there anything I can do? Will she be okay?"
"(Y/n)'s panic attacks are usually triggered by something sad, or something sorrowful."

"I-I didn't-"
"She's extremely fragile!"

"I want you to stay away from my daughter. Now, I think it's best you leave."
"But we were going to watch a movie together - she's my friend!"

"Her panic attacks usually last around half an hour, I don't think she'll want company during that time."
"Please don't make me leave."
"If you really are her friend, you'll want the best for her."

Michael shook his head and broke out of the flashbacks, seeing how precarious her health was. She couldn't fend for herself like this. (Y/n)'s mental state was at stake. The killer wrapped his arms around his lover and held her close, trying to be comforting. He was surprised when her hands clutched his boiler suit; her body weakly clinging to him. The good thing was that she was accepting his help, but the bad thing was that she was freezing.

The quiet male pulled her closer and picked her up bridal-style, noticing the puke on the ground. The panic and fear she must've been feeling was too much for her to handle. He had to get her someplace safe, stat. Michael made sure his body heat warmed (Y/n) up whilst he carried her back out of the woods, wondering where to go. She'd only be depressed if he took her back to his home. Yet if he took her home, she'd just run off to the authorities.

The stalker stopped behind the Myers's house, indecision plaguing his thoughts. But when Michael looked down at her flushed face, he made up his mind. He'd take her back to her house. He could always keep an eye on her, so she wouldn't escape a second time. Right now she needed to be somewhere warm - somewhere where she could recover. The killer snuck into her house again and found her bedroom; gently placing his obsession down on the bed.

Michael even tucked her in, being affectionate in his actions whilst he tended to his true love. She was sick, but he would help her grow better again. He vowed upon it. During the entire night he cared for (Y/n); first fixing her shoulder injuries. Michael started by cleaning the wound out - along with the surrounding blood - and then wrapped bandages around it firmly, relieved when the blood loss stopped.

Next he pressed a cold flannel against her feverish forehead, cooling it repeatedly throughout the night as he tried to calm her fever down. If he didn't stop the fever, it would do serious damage to her body - which didn't sit well with him. Of course this didn't stop him from simply staring at her, taking in her unconscious beauty - her flawless form only increasing his stalkerish tendencies.

Must she be so pretty when she slept? He itched to have his sweetheart back in his arms - to hold her close like before - but he kept himself from doing so. It was wrong to force himself on her like that. He wouldn't become as fucked up as Ronnie - thank god he'd slaughtered him fifteen years ago. That pig deserved it, what with leering at other women and constantly being crude. Being perverted was one thing, but cheating and talking in a sick manner pissed Michael off.

The killer crept closer as murmurs filled the air, confused by what he was hearing. (Y/n) was...talking...? But she was still asleep! Was she sleep-talking? Bending down, he tilted his head and leant towards her lips - wanting to find out what she was saying. It was like the (Y/n) could sense he was next to her, because the (h/c)-haired girl rolled over and snuggled cutely into him. She was utterly adorable in this exhausted state of mind~

"Help me...Please help me..." A mumbled plea slipped through her mouth, making Michael confused. How was he supposed to help her?

"He's going to be so mad...So mad at me..." Her face creased into a frown as she curled closer to him - his girl definitely afraid. But of who? Of him? Was she that scared of him? For some reason that hurt him more than he thought it would.

"I don't...I don't want him to...to hurt me." (Y/n) murmured miserably. Michael softly shook his head, clasping her cheek as he lovingly caressed her face.

"I don't want...to be...alone..." She finished sleepily, lapsing into silence after that. The fever was probably messing with her mind and giving her nightmares...poor (Y/n).

He checked the flannel and noticed its temperature was lukewarm, meaning it wasn't doing its job of cooling the fever. He'd have to change it again. That meant he wouldn't be able to look at his love for a few solid minutes. With a silent sigh he took a step towards the door, giving her a longing look as he turned away. But something stopped him from leaving the room. And that something was (Y/n).

His Girl - Michael Myers x Reader {Rewrite}Where stories live. Discover now