Is This Real Life? (Michael Myers x Gender Neutral Reader)

[Silence]

You were stunned. Why was he doing all of this so suddenly. It was only last month where he tried to, quite literally murder you. He exposed his voice and even painted the idea that he was comfortable showing his face in your presence. (In all honesty, you didn't get to *see* his face. But you did get to feel his face!)

"I'm, I'm at a loss for words! I mean, I'm very proud! Do you want to go back outside or..?"

No response now. Dead silence, in fact. Hmm. Maybe you can try and ease yourself right now. You pick at the sides of your fingers, slightly anxious as to where this might go.

"..."

The prolonged silence is now making you a bit worried that you may have scared his voice off. You do not want to force him into using his voice when he does not want to, but maybe let him know that it is okay to do it again if he feels he needs to.

"Well, you can always say anything to me, Michael. I will not judge,"

An ever so slight nod comes from him. Do you think that he'll talk again soon? God no. But fo you wish you could hear it again to gauge it? Absolutely. He had a definite baritone voice, deep, but not in a pushy sense. It was raspy and quite unsettling, in all honesty. But, appealing in an odd manner.

He gets up from the bed that you both sat on, dissipating into the dimness of the hallway outside of your room. The room was gray, a slight pine-y smell wafted its way through the tiny seems of your windows. You get an overwhelming sense of dread. Pure an utter dread.

It was the kind you only got when you were little, the times when you first thought of death, or when a loved one had passed, even though you never really fully grasped the sensation until now. Something was definitely wrong. Not anything with Michael, no. But personally. Something had shifted, and your brain knows it didn't like it.

The lingering feeling and buzz of loneliness of you sitting on your bed made you want to cuddle up into a cocoon and never come out until you had finally transformed into the beautiful butterfly you wanted to be.
One with friends that frequently contacted you, one with a carefree, stress free mind, one that didn't have a back of the head guilt for having sympathy for a murderer.

Oh no, you hated feeling this way. Your feet felt rooted into the floor, the roots becoming a trunk on the main floor and slowly seeping into the ground even more below until it entered the great pits of hell where you know your fate will eventually rest since you are just such a horrible, awful piece of sh-

Bzz!
Bzz!
Bzz!

Your horrified expression picks the phone from your pocket to see a contact staring back at you.

"TANISHA CALLING"

Oh, grand.

What could she want with me after what happened?

You gently swiped to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey! It's Tanisha, just wanted to see if you wanted to come see me and my friends perform back at home! We got a hole gig set up, and it would be super sick if you would come."

"..."

"Sure! I'd love to!"

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(A/N) Woah! Year long hiatus, am I right??? However, I am back, and I will try to post in this more frequently. I think that I want to make this a not so happy ending story, but I want to gauge some opinions first. I daw that this story has a couple more views since I last looked at it, so I decided to jump back in. Thank you for your time, and sorry for the short chapter. I just wanted to get something out, then go to bed!

(622 words)