Something Psychotic (Michael Myers x reader)

3. Cell

Another 30 minutes pass and you have to pee... bad. Just when you think you're gonna piss yourself, the same lady from earlier comes in looking rather panicked.

You were sitting in the same seat from before with your head resting in your palm, which was supported by your elbow on the table.

You displayed an unamused expression on your face, annoyed with the staff for leaving you here so long. And now this woman has the audacity to waltz in here as if she's been considerate of your presence.

"It's about damn time..." you said as you sent the female a glare.

She responded sharply, "Watch that attitude, missy," as she brushed off her skirt and tucked her tousled hair behind her ears.

You began to wonder what made her look so disheveled; maybe word of the Michael situation got around and she had to deal with it. Then again, you didn't know her status in the sanitarium so it's possible that fiasco didn't involve her.

You decided to inform her of your need to urinate because it wouldn't be polite to leave that kind of mess for someone else to clean up.

"Can I please use the restroom?" you inquired as you plastered on a fake smile. You didn't want to get too far on her bad side because you needed to get out of there.

"...alright. I'm taking you to your cell anyway. You will have a toilet accessible to you there."

"My cell?! Why am I being put in a cell?"

The woman raised her eyebrows and gave you a dumbfounded look, as if asking 'really?' She ignored your question and proceeded with a proper introduction.

"You can call me Mrs. Marsh. I will be your psychiatrist during the long time you'll be spending here."

You let your jaw visibly drop to let her know of your genuine surprise. With that, she left the room and two men in uniforms came in to retrieve you.

But before she was far, she stuck her head back in the room and remarked, "Oh... and by the way, (y/n), don't start thinking you're strong. Those handcuffs weren't authentic restraints."

What did she mean by that? Were they like a prop or something? You thought of the possibility that having handcuffs clasped onto your wrists was merely a psychological trick; a test to see how long it'd take you to realize you're not as trapped as you thought. But if that was the case... what was the voice telling you?

Mrs. Marsh disappeared out of the room again and the two men grabbed your arms, pulling you up out of your seat.

They began forcefully pushing you towards a series of heavily locked doors, which you thought was very unnecessary. You would've complied and followed them but they treated you like some sort of animal.

Mrs. Marsh led you and the guards to a metal door with a tiny square window. She unlocked it and you were shoved inside of the room with the men following right behind you.

Your (e/c) eyes landed on a set of nicely folded clothes on a twin sized bed that you assumed you'd have to wear. Instead of the men locking you in there to change your outfit in solitude, they began attempting to undress you, which you found extremely disturbing.

It was probably an extra precaution, which they're taking for a reason unknown to you. Well, this is what you tried to convince yourself until one of the men groped your breasts.

You backed up further into the room as they tugged on your clothing and you refused to let them take off your pajamas. They smirked to one another, letting you know they were definitely up to something mischievous... something they weren't supposed to be doing.

At this point, Mrs. Marsh had already left the room and the door shut behind her, meaning the three of you were alone in the cell.

You couldn't take anymore of this and you screamed. Loud. The men seemed flustered because this noise would draw attention so they quickly stopped what they were doing and headed towards the exit.

While leaving, one of the men turned around and glared at you as he informed you of his intentions.

"You bitch, we'll be back when no one else is around and you can't call for help."

And with that, the door closed behind them and the sound of it being locked was heard. Your breath became heavy, seeing as you were shaken up from that moment. You just got here and someone already tried to make a move on you.

Here you were, yet again, all alone in unfamiliar surroundings.

It must've been about 4am by now, considering you were taken from your home around midnight.

You felt tired now and decided maybe you had the ability to fall asleep. So you changed your attire from a t-shirt and sleeping shorts into the matching gray shirt and pants provided. You didn't want to change your clothing, but you assumed that they expected you to, so you did anyway.

Then you finally decided to go pee because god knows you couldn't hold it any longer. There was a metal toilet against a wall, and as you sat, the cold sensation ran up your body. After taking care of that need, you proceeded to the one thing you've been craving: sleep.

You made yourself as comfortable as possible in the bed, which wasn't easy. It felt like those things were designed to make for sleepless nights.

With the thin sheet wrapped around your body, you closed your eyes tightly in an attempt to lose consciousness for the night. Part of you hoped closing your eyes would bring you away from this nightmare place; bring you back to your home, where you spent nearly all of your time. You began to dread the very place because of your nonexistent social life and how often you were cooped up there. But now you wanted to go back.

This sanitarium place wasn't horrible but you didn't belong here! So why were you here? That was something you had yet to figure out...

Trying to brush all thoughts aside, your mind was left blank until one image flashed its way into your brain. Michael.

You remembered the sight of him being dragged away, appearing dead, but you knew that wasn't the case. It couldn't be. Even if you didn't know him, he seemed like someone who could understand your pain. That's why you were determined to find him again in this hospital.

Then you two would become friends, hopefully make a plan to escape. It was as simple at that... or so you thought.