《Trick Or Treat || Michael Myers X Reader》Chapter Twenty Eight
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Haddonfield, Illinois
November 4th, 1978
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It would appear that i'd fallen asleep after all of the recent excitement.
I could feel my body beginning to wake up, my hands beginning to tremble whilst I stretched. My entire frame was aching and sore, which was most likely as a result of what Michael and I had done in my room.
I opened my eyes and smiled, those memories from not long ago flashing into my mind. I curled up in my bed, hiding my face in my pillow and giggling like a little school girl, still in disbelief that my dreams of being with Michael were coming true!
As a child I would have fantasies of being able to marry him, or to even kiss him, and it seemed as though everything was playing out just as i'd dreamed it would.
With that I slowly sat up, moving my hands to rest them on my stomach, a twinge of pain washing over me as I stood up. My legs wobbled a bit before I steadied myself.
I glanced around my room, taking note of the fact that Michael was nowhere to be found. So, I made my way out to the hallway and down the stairs, "Michael, my love?" I called tiredly, stretching my arms before lowering my hands to fidget with the night gown I had slipped on last night.
Per usual, I had gained no response, which lead me to the living room. There, at the front door stood Michael, staring through the small window on it.
I smiled in relief, happy to find that none of what i'd experienced was just a dream. I hurried behind my lifelong lover and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his back.
"Good morning.." I hummed quietly, feeling incredibly at ease in his presence.
Just the simple sound of his breathing sent me into a trance.
"Did you sleep at all? Have you eaten anything?" I asked, pulling away from him so that I could shift to look up at his mask; which still stared outside.
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I waited a moment in silence, watching as Michael finally turned his head to look down at me, his eyes scanning my features before he glanced in the direction my puppy was in.
I followed his stare, my eyes landing on my resting dog, who was strewn out across the couch. I smiled and ambled towards the fuzzy animal, my palm running along his fur for a moment, waking up the young pet.
I stared at the puppy and tilted my head, my fingers carefully scratching at him. "He still needs a name." I stated, glancing at Michael, who seemed to hesitate before walking towards both me and the puppy.
The tall slasher sat down on the couch, the dog lay directly beside him whilst I had stationed myself on the floor.
"Do you have any ideas on a name?" I asked him, smiling eagerly, "He's like our very own little baby." I attempted to joke, snorting a bit when Michael refused to react.
A moment had passed and I glanced around uncomfortably, trying my very best to think of what else I could say.
"Maybe Doug. He looks like a Doug..." I commented, furrowing my brows and pursing my lips, my eyes studying the friendly animal before me.
"I'll just call him Doug unless I think of anything else to call him." I explained and pushed myself to my feet, now making my way towards the hallway, where I glanced over my shoulder to look back at Michael, who had not yet moved from the couch.
"Do you wanna talk about your sister? When do you wanna kill her?" I asked the tall male, whose fists tightened at the mention of his bloodline.
I made my way to the kitchen soon after, smiling softly when the shape followed close behind me, situating himself against the kitchen wall as he watched me intently, waiting for me to carry on our seemingly one person conversation.
"What day? Today... tomorrow... How soon are you feeling?" I quizzed him, leaning back against the kitchen counter to study the masked man across from me. He inhaled deeply, his intimidating eyes locked on mine even from across the room. I shivered, attempting to find my words as I ran my fingers through my hair and cleared my throat. "We need a plan." I pointed out, pausing when Michael exhaled a heavy breath and slipped out of the kitchen.
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I furrowed my brows in confusion and followed after him, watching as he made his way toward the stairs and began his long walk up them.
"Where are you going?" I asked him, confused by his abrupt behaviour.
I hurried after the tall man and made my way beside him once we reached the top of the stairs, my eyes lingering on the mask that covered his face. "Is something wrong? Or are you like..." I paused, raising my hands and wiggling them about, "plotting?" I finished with a slightly goofy voice, feeling awkward.
Michael stopped walking and instead slowly lowered his head to look down at me, his brown eyes almost completely hidden by the darkness of his masks empty expression. His heavy breathing being the only audible thing filling the hallway. The rest of the house was still, waiting for a reason to creak or whine.
I studied the face that hid his real one, waiting for something to happen to progress our current state of living.
"What are you thinking?" I quizzed him, genuinely unsure of what he may have been thinking or doing.
After another moment, the tall slasher lifted his arm and pressed his palm against my chest, pushing me slowly away from him. "What are you doing?" I asked him, looking down at his hand as he retracted it and returned it to his side. "Michael..." I continued, knowing fully well I could have been annoying him, but I couldn't help but to practically beg for answers whether or not he could give them.
The murderer stared at me for another moment before turning away and making his way to my bedroom, where he didn't bother to close the door. I hesitated for a moment before ambling towards the door way and lingering there. My eyes tracing his body from head to toe. I remained silent at this point, my gaze flooded with concern.
"Did I do something wrong? Are you like– upset?... with me?..." I asked quietly, slipping into the room and making my way towards the stalker, who had positioned himself by my bedroom window and stared out of it, watching any people walking along the sidewalk curiously.
Eventually though, he did turn to look at me once again, and yet again, he did nothing to tell me what he was thinking.
"Okay.m" I stammered and took a few steps back before returning to my bedroom door, "whatever is going on in your head.. I'll just leave you be for a bit so you can think... of that is what you're doing." I explained before hurrying out of the room and back downstairs, a frown evident on my face.
With that I entered the living room where Doug lay across the couch.
He sure was a lazy puppy...
"Hey Doug, what do you think is his problem today?" I asked the puppy, even though he was quite clearly sleeping.
"Is he mad at me?.. like... what if he's having second thoughts about being with me? What if I wasn't what he was hoping for last night in bed!" I exclaimed in a panic, my cheeks burning red as I felt embarrassed.
"No no..." I went on, rambling on to myself and my puppy.
"Maybe he's just plotting against Laurie and Loomis. He'll fill me in later— somehow." I theorized.
After another few minutes of silence filling the room, I sighed, "What if he doesn't want my help in this?"
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