Not Crazy to Me | Slashers x Nurse!Reader

Chapter 1: Meeting the Patients Part 1

"(Y/N)? The patients are all prepped to meet you!" at the sound of Melanie's voice you drop your book, hurrying to the door. You almost forget your keys and your access card on the dresser, doubling back to grab them just before you open the door. When you do open the door you smile at Melanie,

"Sorry for the wait," you apologize, "I'm excited." A quick glance at the clock shows that it's 3 o'clock, 3:12 to be exact.

"We have a good 3 hours before dinner call, when the patients are escorted to the cafetorium, so we have more than enough time to meet them one by one," Melanie begins with a smile at your enthusiasm, then settles into an efficient walk down the hall towards the cells. "Now, Mr. Bates in cell 8 just returned from an extended outdoor time, so I would like to let him settle in for a while first, so..." Melanie turns the corner to continue on away from the direction of the receptionist desk, "We'll start in the heavy duty ward. They're the most dangerous patients, the strongest ones, but the violent one of the two already has guards ready and waiting."

"What's their name?" you ask, settling into your own brisk pace to keep up with Dr. Crotus.

"You have to promise not to be scared or anything like that," Melanie chuckled, nervously tucking her brown hair behind her ears.

"Not a chance!" you promise with a determined nod, watching the cell numbers escalate as you step closer and closer to the furthest cell.

"Alright, then," Melanie hesitates once more, and then, with a deep breath, "It's Michael Audrey Myers, a serial murderer local to Haddonfield." she says, expecting some shriek or outburst from you.

"Wow," you breathe, stars in your eyes, "Well, I'm excited to meet him!" excited was an understatement, if you were being honest. You had followed the Haddonfield killings almost religiously, trying to find some motive. You'd also taken a liking to Michael himself. What an interesting guy. Melanie's smile returned, and she let out a relieved sigh.

"You're very interesting, (Y/N). I'm glad you aren't scared." just as she finished speaking Dr. Crotus pulled out an access card with a purple stripe instead of a yellow. "Now, there's a few things I should say first," she turns to you, holding the card to her chest in a death grip, worry in her gaze. "Michael is... dangerous. He doesn't usually react to people, but that's because he's used to all of us. He will most likely not acknowledge you, staring into space or continuing with his work without a sideways glance," Melanie gulps, "But on the off chance he goes violent and attacks, you are to fall back behind the guards instantly, no questions asked. As far as we can tell he has no ability to give mercy, or even make a moral decision." You nod your head, blinking slowly.

"Okay, I've got it." you promise. Melanie smiles again, though it's less genuine this time and much more scared.

"Here we go, then,"

Melanie takes one more shaky breath and turns to scan her card. Seconds pass after the light turns from red to green, mechanical thunk after mechanical thunk as the locks in the door disengage. At last, a hiss sounds, and Melanie pushes the door open.

"Dr. Crotus," a guard standing to the right of the door nods a greeting, allowing Melanie and you to pass. There are four guards total in the room, all equipped with big riot shields and long poles with tasers on the end. The room is laid out just like the other cells; a bed in the back left, a desk to it's right, and a dresser behind the desk. The one thing that catches you off guard other than the obvious man behind the desk is the masks lining the walls, every single one from floor to ceiling, corner to corner, all different shapes and sizes and colours. The other thing that unsettles you is the giant man at the desk, his focus settled solely on the mask he was working on, firm strokes of orange paint being applied to the paper-mache craft. His hair is brown, a little long and tangled to hell and back. His shoulders are broad, the blades shifting with each movement of his arm. The string of a mask wraps around the back of his head, the edge of a scar peeking over the back collar of a dark gray t-shirt. He also wore grey sweatpants to match.