Michael Myers x Male!Reader

Chapter 2

Two days had gone by since Michael and y/n left Haddonfield. Two days and yet it felt as if it's been at least a week. The boy hadn't left the bed the whole time; everytime he had tried to get up is back would protest and send pain through his whole body. He was sure that it wasn't broken, but a giant bruise had formed, bringing him nothing but misery.

As he was lying there he had enough time to think about the most unpleasant things, like; what if nobody would come and look for him; how are his parents; did his friend really die or was all of that just a bad dream? But he knew it wasn't just a dream he would wake up from, sweat running down his forehead and tears ready to leave his eyes. This was reality.

Michael hadn't been around much since they arrived at the cabin. Y/n didn't know what he was up to, but he would be gone for most of the day and night, only showing up to bring the boy some food and water. Of course y/n wondered where he went when he left the cabin, but at the same time he couldn't bother to ask Michael.

He sighed quietly as he started tapping with his fingers against the bed frame, creating a soft rhythm. I think I'll die because of boredom before he can even think about getting rid of me he thought, the beat of his fingers speeding up.

His e/c eyes darted over to the door as he heard heavy footsteps outside, leaves crunching and branches breaking under the weight of them.
Then it opened and the small room was filled by the smell of pinetree needles and wood. Michael stepped onto the wooden flooring, it creaking quietly with each step he took. Under his arms he carried a few logs over to the small oven and with a loud thud they landed on the floor next to it.

While Michael was busy with lighting a fire y/n watched every movement he made. His mind was empty of thoughts and he seemed to be frozen; not able to move a single muscle, he had been lying there, staring at his kidnapper.

Why does he have to be so tall? This thought had crept into his head and had managed to stay in there. If Michael had been smaller y/n probably could have managed to knock him out somehow. But Michael was a giant compared to him.

He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out; why should they? He didn't even know what he wanted to say.
Michael closed the metal oven door, but y/n could still see the orange flames dancing through the small holes in the barrier that kept the sparks from escaping and lighting the wooden cabin on fire.

Michael turned around, his broad shoulder blocking most of the oven out of y/n's view, and got up. The boy already knew what was coming next so he slowly sat up, careful not to sprain anything, and took his shirt off; everytime Michael came to the cabin he had taken care of the bruise on y/n's back. He still didn't know why but he wouldn't dare to ask the man with the dirty blue overall.

Michael went over to him, grabbing a bottle of some kind of gel off the nightstand. He put some on his hand and rubbed it onto y/n's back, his rough hands hurting him in the progress. The boy hated those moments, but when it was over he would take Novril and then wouldn't have to worry about the pain for another two hours.

Michael rubbed his hands on his overall, wiping the rest of the gel off, as y/n turned back around and waited for Michael to give him the painkillers he had been waiting for the past six hours. As he tossed one towards y/n the boy could barely manage to catch it; the small pill nearly slipped through his fingers. He looked for his water bottle but couldn't find it near him and since his legs were already numb from the throbbing pain that shot through his body he swallowed it dry.

The wind pressed against the door, pushing it open with a strong hit. The flames in the oven flickered wildly, the cold breeze caused a stir and sent a shiver down y/n's spine. He grabbed his shirt and put it back on, while Michael shut the door and tried to keep it closed.