Something Psychotic (Michael Myers x reader)

5. Listen

You rested your face in your palm, just waiting and watching.

Michael had a tray of food in front of him but it was untouched. He rested his balled-up hands on his lap as he slightly hunched over in the seat. He carried a distant look in his eyes, which were glued to the area in front of him. He wasn't focused on a particular object, no, just zoned out— unaware of his surroundings. Well, that's what it looked like at least. The tiny eye holes on his mask prevented you from seeing his full expression.

Five minutes must've passed when you grew tired of this view. Fuck it, you thought while standing up. There were several guards standing around the outskirts of the cafeteria but you didn't pay them any attention, seeing as your intentions were harmless.

You slowly left your chair and began to make your way to Michael's table. You were a little hesitant to sit down at first but decided to anyway, considering you were already there.

Why would they arrange several chairs at each table if there's only one patient allowed to sit there? You mentally scoffed, yet forced the thought aside, realizing you have bigger things to focus on.

As you sat across from Michael, you saw several guards lift up their guns and begin to watch you carefully. However, it seemed they weren't going to act unless things got violent between the two of you.

Strangely enough, Michael still didn't acknowledge you, even when you invited yourself over and sat with him.

If my presence didn't get his attention, then maybe speaking to him will!

Without putting too much thought into your introduction, you began, "Hi, my name's (y/n)." No movement. You continued, "...you're Michael, right?" Still no movement. You became frustrated at his reluctance to respond and tried to think of a topic that would interest him.

"I was brought here last night... so far, this place blows. I don't even remember why I was taken here! This isn't really my scene. Everyone here seems batshit crazy. Except you— that's why I wanted to talk to you. Do you remember why you were taken here? Maybe hearing another person's reason will help me remember mine..."

SLAM. Your rambling was interrupted by Michael hitting his bound fists against the table, as much as the chains would allow him to. This caused you to jump slightly while your eyes widened. You watched as Michael slowly brought his head upwards, locking his cold blue eyes with your (e/c) ones. He held a very annoyed look in them; it almost looked like he was giving a threat while staring you down.

You slumped back into your chair and mumbled a "...sorry.."

You wanted to add one more thing before taking your leave. "I'll leave you be. But real quick... do you think that maybe you 'n me could—"

Before you could present your idea, you heard a feminine voice behind you trying to get your attention. "(Y/n)! ...(Y/N)! What are you doing away from your table?!" inquired a voice resembling the one belonging to Mrs. Marsh.

You sighed and began to turn around when you were yanked from the chair by your shirt. Before you were even able to face her, Mrs. Marsh had pulled you to your feet, away from your moment with Michael.

You were very surprised with her physicality and willingness to grab your being, resulting in you being unable to form a complete sentence. "I-I was just... introducing myself to Michae-" Before you were able to finish pronouncing the name of your new friend, you felt a stinging sensation across your left cheek. It took a second for you to realize that your so called "psychiatrist" had slapped you.

Tears began to well up in your eyes; not because of the pain she inflicted, but rather the shock Mrs. Marsh brought upon you. You weren't exactly a troublemaker— at least not before this whole sanitarium thing. This was a new feeling to you: being reprimanded in a physical manner. You didn't know how to react.

"We will not speak the name of that... that DEVIL. There is still hope for you, (y/n), but there won't be if you begin interacting with this heathen. Now come along, it is time for our first session."

You were absolutely flabbergasted with this woman and her audacity to hit you then pretend everything is okay. You blinked away the tears that threatened to spill and quickly glanced back at Michael. You wanted to memorize his eyes one last time. Such a dark hue of blue filled each iris, they almost looked black. For the first time since you accompanied him at his table, his eyes displayed some sort of empathetic emotion. As much as you tried ridding of your tears, Myers was still able to tell you were in distress.

As if she could tell you two were visually communicating, Mrs. Marsh grasped onto the chain between your handcuffs and lead you away from your new friend, desperate to sever the bond you two had possibly made. You didn't try to fight her attempt at dragging you into the hallway. You wanted to catch one last glimpse of the alleged serial killer. As you settled your eyes on him again, you noticed his fists were clenched on top of the table, more than they had been before.

Did he possibly care about you? You did your best to push this fantasy aside, considering you could be facing some serious consequences right now. Yet, the possibility of Michael being concerned with your well-being made your heart flutter.

As soon as you left the cafeteria, a guard replaced Mrs. Marsh's position of holding your restraints, while that bitch guided you down the hallway. What was going to happen to you now? This, you didn't know. You also didn't know what was going through Michael's head... which was comprised of thoughts that would've surprised you greatly.

The second Michael saw you through the tiny window the previous night when he killed a guard, he was amused with your very existence. You witnessed a corpse he was responsible for killing, and you looked more invested in his presence than the dead body. He felt your gaze on him the whole time and he couldn't help but feel proud. You were astonished with him as a person, rather than what he's done, which he could tell by your deep stare.

And today during breakfast, he felt that exact same stare; one full of adoration and curiosity. The sensation distracted him from eating, as he was lost in his thoughts. He was indeed surprised when you waltzed over to his table and began a conversation with him, as if it wouldn't have any consequences. He knew it wouldn't end well for you, seeing as he's the most dangerous patient in Smith's Grove and you tried to befriend him.

Fearing your punishment, he refused to acknowledge you; maybe they'd overlook this if he didn't give any reaction. But you kept on rambling, seeming as if you had enough conversation to cover two people. He couldn't take this any longer. You needed to leave. So, he gave a warning. Hitting his fists on the table was supposed to be a sort of admonition; however, it did not come off that way from your perspective.

It was too late... he saw a woman taking long strides in your direction, looking pissed. He mentally cursed you for acting such a way. Why did you have to be so stupid?! You should've known better than to attempt to publicly interact with him. Now you've gone and grabbed the attention from everyone in the room when your doctor made an appearance. His blood ran cold when she struck you across the face. He wasn't sure why he gave a shit about your well-being, but he did, and the voices seemed to approve of it.

Seeing you leave the room with a regretful expression oddly bothered him. Your (e/c) eyes, which were glossed over with tears, only added to his uneasiness. What were you going to ask him? The question drove him nuts and he was determined to see you again.

The voices in his head echoed your name over and over. (Y/n). How intriguing you were. Well, (y/n), this isn't the last you'd see of Michael Myers.