Michael Myers x Male!Reader

Chapter 31

Y/n seemed to be staring at Michael; his e/c orbs, once full of life, were now empty and cold. His hand, which had been holding onto Michael, had sunk to the floor, his other hand still lying in his lover's, who didn't want to let it go. Time stood still for a moment (or so it seemed) and he blocked out all the sounds around him. Loomis hysterically screamed at Anderson, who turned into a crying and sobbing mess as soon as Leigh let go of him, finally coming to realization of what just happened.

The sheriff kneeled next to Anderson, only a few centimetres away from Michael and y/n. He could hear his own heartbeat thumping in his head, giving him a headache. He stared at the boy's lifeless body, eyes widened as his thoughts were running wild.
This can't be true. For Christ's sake, please tell me that this is just some crazy joke. But it wasn't, and he knew that too well. The last time he had felt the way he did now was when his daughter had been killed, by the man who was holding y/n in his arms at the moment, staring at the boy in disbelief and sorrow. And even though he shouldn't feel anything for him, even though he should still be disgusted by the fact that Michael wasn't in prison, that he had been free and had been able to live (at least for a short while) like a normal human being, he felt sympathy for him. He knew too well how he felt know and he also knew that this feeling wouldn't go away. He would learn how to live with it, but it would never stop haunting him.

Leigh ruffled through his greyish brown hair (or what was left of it) and took a deep breath; y/n was like a son for him. He had been friends with his father when the boy just started walking, still needing to hold on to his mother's dress when he tried to take steps. His life had barely begun. And now the gun of a disoriented officer, who would probably get charged for this, ended it within a split second.

Michael brushed softly over y/n's eyes, closing them in the process, and placed a final kiss on his forehead. Now that his eyes were closed he looked really peaceful, as if nothing had happened. As if he's just sleeping Michael thought, carefully placing the boy's body on the wooden floor. His gaze rested on y/n's peaceful expression.

Anderson pushed himself off the floor; he was still crying, like a toddler who had just lost his favourite. His face was starting to take on a tint of purple, which was a result of him sobbing without really trying to breath nornally. His eyes were red and swollen and tears kept rolling out of them over his cheeks. "I am so sorry." He howled out, like a dog, as his legs gave up on him. "I am so sorry." He kept repeating as he crawled over to y/n. "I am so sorry." He cried, reaching out to touch y/n's hand.

But before he could even come near the boy, Michael got up and grabbed Anderson by the collar of his shirt.
"Keep your disgusting hands off him." Michael's expression darkened as he loosened his grip, letting Anderson fall on the floor. The officer turned around and got on his knees, trying to crawl away from him, but Michael didn't intend to just let him go like that; he needed to be punished for what he did.

He pushed Anderson to the ground again, ignoring the doctor who threatened to shoot him if he dared to move any more, and the begging of Leigh, who didn't want to see anyone else die that day. But both of them knew that Michael wouldn't stop. He would never stop.

Michael didn't have anything on him that he could have used to slaughter anyone, but he didn't need anything. He knew how to end someone's life as painfully as possible, even without a knife, which he usually preferred to use.

Michael stepped on the officer's head with his heavy boots, slowly putting more and more pressure on it. Anderson started screaming, trying to push Michael off, to get away from him, but he was too weak; the pressure just kept getting worse. Michael ignored the shot from Loomis' that pierced through his left shoulder. He couldn't feel the pain at that moment (not that he would have felt it anyway) and he didn't care, either. He heard the cracking of bones under his foot and finally Anderson's skull gave in, breaking under the boot; his eyes popped out of their sockets and a mixture between blood, bones and his brain splashed everywhere. Leigh stared at the officer's corpse, his stomach yelling a last warning to him as he threw up in front of him on the wooden floor, spreading his breakfast all over it.