Something Psychotic (Michael Myers x reader)

8. Contact

Your fingers gripped the open edges of the block, and you slowly wriggled the 16 x 8 inch brick towards yourself. It was a lot heavier than you wanted to admit, but your anticipation to see Michael overshadowed that struggle.

You tried to pull the brick for a solid 2 minutes before realizing that this was going to be very difficult. Would it be weird to ask Michael... for help? Most definitely. But you were gonna do it anyway.

"Pssst... Michael! Mind lending me a hand?"

No answer. Go figure.

You huffed in disappointment and continued trying your best to drag the block out of its place. A few minutes passed then suddenly the brick was shoved in your direction, hitting you in the process. It only bumped into your leg but you decided to overdramatize his roughness because you found it quite inconsiderate.

"Ouch! Watch it!" you commented with a hidden laugh. In all honesty, you were overjoyed with the fact Michael actually assisted you.

With the brick on the ground, you had an opening into Michael's domain. You nudged the block over and stuck your head in the hole to peek inside. Paper mache masks littered the walls— various colors and designs that left you in awe. You just had to see them up close!

Eyeballing the size of the hole, you decided you could most likely fit through it. You didn't want to just barge in, though, so you warned Michael before putting your arms through and pulling the rest of your weight onto the other side. It was ungraceful to say the least. No— your entrance was downright clumsy. After falling onto Michael's cold cement floor, you felt his stiff form glaring daggers at you. You picked yourself up and faced Michael. He didn't look pleased at all to have you there and you suddenly felt a surge of guilt, followed by regret.

Although an orange mask covered his face, there was no missing that piercing stare. You felt really awkward and didn't know what to do now. With obvious hesitance, you started, "Hi, Michael." After your greeting, he took a threatening step in your direction, causing you to also take a step backward. You couldn't stand making eye contact any longer, so you averted your gaze and focused on the display of masks.

You walked over to the wall they were hung up on and took a second to really admire Michael's artwork. You were so tempted to touch one of the intricate designs but decided against it, in case Michael is sensitive about people touching his stuff. You broke the silence to acknowledge his work, "These are beautiful. Paper mache?" Turning back to Michael's direction, he gave a very small nod and seemed to loosen up.

Next, you wandered over to his desk to take a glimpse at what his current project was. Several sheets of paper were sprawled out, along with a tin of glue and old paint. It seemed like he was gonna make another mask. Is that all he does everyday? Doesn't he ever get bored of the same craft? You began to get very curious about Michael's interests and his abundance of patience.

After taking in this area of the room, you drastically fucked up. While trying to move away from the scene, you stumbled over your own feet and fell backwards, hitting into Michael's wall in the process. You heard the soft crunch of several masks on your back and cringed the hardest you've ever cringed.

"Fuck... Michael, I'm so sorry-" you began to frantically apologize while properly standing up, but you were cut off when Michael's figure grabbed a fistful of your shirt and shoved you onto another uncovered wall.

You gasped as your eyes widened, not being able to guess what would happen next. You didn't guess. In fact, you didn't do anything. Instead, you were forced to watch as a different personality took over your body. You could hear and see what was happening, but you had no say in your actions whatsoever.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" you spat at Michael. Your voice sounded different— a little raspier than usual.

Your heart dropped when you heard the husky voice say this, using your mouth. You didn't say that intentionally... why was this happening?!

Upon hearing these words, Michael got visibly angrier. His hand clenched tighter around the collar of your top and his eyes held a fire, fueled by rage.

His forearm held you against the solid wall and you were scared. Before you knew it, you— (y/n), lost consciousness. However, your body was still active.

Michael had no idea what he was witnessing, seeing as you had a sudden burst of confidence. It wasn't the good kind of confidence, though. It was the kind that pissed Michael off because he was in charge. He had to make sure you knew that.

Despite Myers's attempt at proving his dominance, the new personality continued to provoke him. This was not a good choice on your end, but you still had no say in this interaction whatsoever.

The newfound character inside of you then said something semi-disturbing. It choked out, "You don't know who I am. But you will eventually," leaving Michael puzzled.

Of course he knew who you were. You were (Y/n), the new patient at Smith's Grove. Sure, he found you annoying at times but he didn't mind tolerating your presence. These words caught him off guard because you've already introduced yourself to him... so what was this supposed to mean?

Just then, you regained consciousness and were fully aware of your surroundings.  You were in Michael's room as he was holding you roughly against the wall, your bodies close together.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think this scenario was a little intimate. You found yourself thinking his manhandling was attractive but soon shook the thoughts away when you remembered the severity of your location.

You were in Michael's room.

What the fuck did you come in here for— to say hi?!

You harshly blinked your eyes, trying to recollect what just happened; you crushed a few of Michael's masks, you tried apologizing but he got pissy and pinned you against the wall, you made a snarky comment to Michael without trying to, then blacked out for a minute before coming back to reality. What happened in that minute? And why couldn't you remember it?!

Your brain tried to rationalize, considering that maybe he punched you and knocked you out, but that was very unlikely because you didn't experience any pain.

This is exactly what happened the night that you were taken here— when you were at home. You could only remember so much and the rest was a blur.

Michael saw your sudden realization and was content with himself. That brief fear that flashed through your eyes was enough to make him believe he put you in your place already. You looked regretful. And that was Michael's favorite thing to see— that is, besides his murderous artwork.

With your eyebrows furrowed, you spoke up. "Michael... what happened?" You weren't sure why you asked, knowing damn well you weren't going to get an answer.

He huffed in what seemed like annoyance. You could be so stupid sometimes... how do you forget such an interaction so quickly.

He reluctantly moved his arm and let go of you entirely. You enjoyed the forceful warmth he emitted during that time, but it was time for you to get the fuck out of there.

You and Michael held each other's gaze, as if it was impossible to look away. However, you knew you couldn't stay like that forever.

After giving Michael a small smile, you turned your body towards the open space in the wall. You definitely had enough excitement for one day.