Small Gestures Will Stick ~ Michael Myers x Reader ~

Chapter 3 - Plaything

It has been a couple days since the news spread like wildfire through the town. Many people gave you looks as you made your way to and from the market and shops and whatnot as if you let him out yourself. You felt like wherever you went, there were eyes on you, people watching you like a hawk as if you were hiding Michael in your pocket. You wanted nothing more than to scream out leave me alone! But you couldn't bring yourself to do such.

You decided it was time to start looking for a job. Maybe it would keep your mind busy, and you needed a job anyways.

You spent time walking through the shops, looking for help wanted signs, and you were able to find some, but they would turn you down. Although they never said why, you knew exactly why.

You searched for about an hour when you began to feel a weight on your shoulders.

Sadness.

You felt defeated almost. It was tearing you down that just because of where you lived, it made things in the town so difficult. You decided to call it a day and head home. Maybe another day.

You dragged your feet through the threshold of your haunted house and plopped down on the couch with a defeated sigh. The entire day was filled with dirty eyes and dismissals. You knew you didn't do anything wrong, but these people made you feel as though you were Michael himself. As if you killed people yourself just because you lived in this house. You wished you could understand why people hated you so much just for living in the house. Obviously you weren't Michael Myers and obviously you don't condone him, but then why did people act like this to you?

You thought about moving out just to avoid it, but you couldn't afford anything. You were only able to move into this house because they were selling it for damn near nothing, but you guess this is the other half of the deal.

That and the rumors.

The rumors that began to circle after you moved in were probably the worse of it all. People would whisper and sometimes you'd be able to hear. They would say things like "that's the crazy girl" or "that's the Myers girl" and even go as far as calling you the "Boogeyman's bitch" which stung your heart the first time you heard it. You were shocked at the things adults would say about you, as if they were just like school bullies in your childhood, but worse.

You tried your best to not let it get to you, but you were only human. You wished people could see that.

You were lost in your thoughts, sunken into the couch when you were brought out by a sudden noise. You blinked a couple times when realizing it came from upstairs. Your heart sank as your first thought was some horrid kids broke in to harass you for no reason.

The thought that someone would go as far as breaking in just to harass you about living there had crossed your mind before, but you told yourself you were being dramatic.

You felt a bit of fear, but also anger well up inside you and you pushed yourself off of the couch and stormed your way upstairs. You were steaming by the time you got to the top, how dare someone do such a thing. You walked into the spare bedroom that you heard the noise come from and looked around before your eyes landed on the closet.

You pursed your lips and took a couple long strides before you were set in front of the closet door.

"Haha" you said out loud sarcastically "very funny jackasses, now get out before I call the polic-" you swung the doors wide open, but you were not met with the teenagers you expected to be there. Instead, you were met with a metallic sting suddenly washing through your right arm.

You fly backwards and land on your ass before looking up and your blood running cold.

Stood before you was the infamous killer that you could only assume to be Michael Myers, but then again you weren't awfully too sure. The white latex mask was a dead giveaway, but you were so horrified, you didn't want to believe it at first.