Can I request Michael Myers groping and using fem reader while she sleeps?
Anon..this..oh my.FLUSTERED SCREECHING I am a MASSIVE Myers lover, HELL BRO he's the inspo for my chosen name LMFAO also somnophilia is so underrated frrrrr
Unspecified Myers, can be read as either Old Man Myers or Zombie Myers!
May seem a tiny bit OOC but I'm ngl even tho he is my fav slasher, I've never written something for him?? So this is the first, as well I see him being quite..strange with his actions/behavior from what I usually see, you'll see what I mean lmfao One day I'll put together the character studies I've done on him bc yes hehe
Sleeping Desire
(Michael Myers X AFAB!Fem!Reader)
🩸NSFW: 🥩 + 🪦: Non-Con Somnophilia
Masterlist.
🔪🔪🔪🔪
🔪 Michael had made it a routine to stalk through your home late at night and sometimes you would catch him standing in the darkness of the hallway that led to your bedroom, which made you have to squeeze by his hulking frame to get to your bedroom because the stubborn bastard wouldn't move out of the way.
🔪 Michael was like a stray that came back because you fed them once, pawing at your door, crying and whining for another meal.
🔪 You didn't feed him when he first arrived, Michael had broken in one late night of autumn and was bleeding heavily, wounded and sluggishly tumbling on top of your coffee table causing it to get destroyed on impact. Causing glass and wood to get all over the floor and even create new wounds for the brute to have to deal with.
🔪 You had woken up from the commotion, stirring awake quickly and grabbing your phone from your nightstand to quickly dial the police in case it was an intruder and not some animal who accidental got themselves inside because they were trying to hide from the harsh storm outside.
🔪 You weren't expecting to see Michael Fucking Myers laying on your now destroyed coffee table on in your living room, you clenched your phone tightly and was ready to call the police because your thumb was hovering right above the dial button but…
🔪 A part of you, the most stupidest part of you put your phone down and rushed to get the first aid from the kitchen, your heart was pounding and you had to steel your nerves as you stupidly got close to the bloody giant.
🔪 Maybe because your mother was a nurse, taught you to be kind and caring or maybe her belief that "kill them with kindness!" had rubbed off you more than you had previously thought. Fuck, kindness will get someone killed and you are hoping that you won't be the one dying.
🔪 You were, somehow, able to drag him off the floor and onto your couch after putting a couple of towels down on it so he didn't stain the couch with the muck and blood coating his being. You didn't dare touch his aged mask, you've heard stories from your mother when she worked in the psychiatric ward that Myers had resided in and you knew from those stories he didn't like his masks touched not one bit.
🔪 You were able to clean the wounds after hesitantly unzipping his coveralls, thankful that his wounds were just on his front and no where that required you to completely strip him. You really didn't want a naked Michael Myers on your couch…yet..
🔪 You were paranoid that he would just jolt awake and kill you when you stitched him up but he was completely still, making you even more paranoid and have to check his pulse a couple of times to make sure he was still alive because of how fucking still he was.
🔪 He was actually awake and watching you the entire time.
🔪 When you had finished, you felt odd afterwards..you felt good that you were able to stop his bleeding and fix him up but you also felt really fucking worried for your sanity because you just helped out a unstoppable serial killer who's taken so many people's lives. You didn't know if you were allowed to feel good for putting the skills your mother taught you to good use but you tried to brush the thoughts of if have fucked up morals to the side and cleaned up the broken table, being careful to not be too loud.
🔪 Maybe because you were tired from getting the giant man onto the couch, stitching him up and cleaning up the mess he made or you were just utterly stupid but after washing your hands clean of Michael's blood (and probably someone else's blood). You decided to go back to bed, making sure your bedroom door was shut and hoping that this was all just a strange nightmare.
🔪 Sadly it wasn't just a weird nightmare, waking up to the next morning and taking note of that your bedroom door was wide open with a bloody hand print on the handle. It sent chills down your spine, he had entered your room as you slept, you could've fucking died but..you aren't dead?
🔪 Maybe you were dead but that thought had flew out the window when your alarm on your phone went off, you didn't touch your phone as you watched the blood covered phone light up and ring loudly.
🔪 You had left your fucking phone in the living room, you didn't take it to bed last night and the large bloody finger prints on it was enough evidence to show that Michael had brought it to your room.
🔪 Since that night, there have been many bumps and thuds in your home at night and it made you jumpy. Hoping it's just the house being cranky and wanting to fuck with you with spooky noises but the muddy foot prints, the droplets of blood and the random cravings in the wood of your doors and pillars..you knew it was the tall silent killer you helped.
🔪 You could hear him moving around your home as if it was his own and you hid in your room when he did, nervous that if he saw you then he'll get angry that you were even in the same room as him.
🔪 But whenever you snuck out after thinking the coast was clear, he would be standing just out of view watching you as you yelped in fear when you finally noticed his hulking form. Shaking like a leaf, fearful that he would attack you for being dumb and leaving your room..but he just stands there (menacingly!) and continued to watch. Not moving an inch, it unnerved you yet you got the silent message to continue with what you were doing and so you did.
🔪 You got used to his strange behavior, keeping your distance when you were able to but after a couple of weeks, maybe almost a month or two, he made that difficult. Silently standing behind you, too close for comfort and making you freeze up when you're able to feel his presence before turning or make you run right into him when you didn't notice him looming behind you.
🔪 You would always frantically apologize, scared that he would kill you for accidentally running into him but he would just tilt his head to the side and stare. As if he was confused to why you were acting like you've offended him, it freaked you out with his non violent reactions yet also calmed your nerves because his confusing behavior was better than getting gutted.
🔪 You subconsciously started making meals for two, you didn't even realize it until you finished making dinner and set another plate down than just your own. It made you pause and stare at the second plate in confusion, did you just put a plate out for Michael?? Did he even need to eat? He wasn't even in the house, he had been gone for hours. Why the fuck were you setting a plate of food out for that fucking serial killer?! Had you really gotten so used to his presence that you had subconsciously made him a fucking meal?..
🔪 You were tempted to throw the plate of food away, even if it would be wasteful and you should just put it in a container for later..that felt wrong, you only had the choice to keep it there or to throw it all away. It pissed you off that deciding on either throwing it away or keeping it was really hard to decide on, so you sighed and thought hard about it…
🔪 Michael came back to a plate of dinner left out for him on the table and you woke up to an empty plate on your table.
🔪 After that, Michael made it his mission to invade your personal space and it helped you get used to his presence, even though you grew annoyed with it especially when he would jiggle the handle of your bathroom door when you were showering to get in, you would have to tell him to stop and to go wait in your living room.
🔪 Sometimes he listened and sometimes he sorta did but would just stand outside your door the entire time, Michael was..weird..you knew he was absolutely not normal in the slightest but he was definitely just weird.
🔪 Michael liked to watch you sleep but you didn't know about it until you woke up from the feeling of being watched by an intense gaze, only to find Michael standing at the edge of your bed looming over you like some fucking sleep paralysis demon. It nearly fucking gave you a heart attack and resulted in Michael getting a pillow thrown at his face which he continued to just stand there and tilt his head in confusion at your reaction.
🔪 There were other things that Michael liked doing while you slept that you didn't know about, only blaming it on having a wet dream that you couldn't remember..
🔪 When Michael came back real late in the night with blood lust pumping through his entire being and his knife drenched in blood after slaughtering a couple of people, he stalks your home like you were his next victim. Breathing heavily under his mask as he makes his way to your bedroom and made sure he didn't step onto the creaky parts of the floor so you didn't wake up, he pushed your door open with his knife.
🔪 Creaking open, he stood in your doorway for a moment to stare at your sleeping form, chest rising and falling as you slept on your side. His body burned, the usual coldness he felt had left his body, the fire of blood lust had replaced it but alongside it was now another fire burning within him, it was desire.
🔪 After placing his knife on the nightstand, he crawled into your bed and it groaned from his heavy weight, with every stir you made he froze completely and waited for you to settle before he continued until he was completely in your bed.
🔪 Hovering over you for a long moment and taking in your soft breath and vulnerable body, he took note of how peaceful you looked and couldn't help but lean in so the nose of his mask grazed your hair, he took a deep whiff of your scent. It sent a burning sensation throughout his entire body, making him feel even hotter to a feverish point.
🔪 Michael slowly pulled the blanket off of you, trying to stay close because he didn't want to pull away nor did he want you waking up from the cold of your room so he tried to replace the blanket's warmth with his own body heat. You shivered and squirmed before settling, clearly deep in your slumber.
🔪 His cock throbbed and was already straining against his coveralls, he knew he had to get his fix before he became reckless and had you finding out what he's doing and has been doing to you. His hands, that he made sure to clean before doing this because he didn't want you to put the clues together from the hand print and realize what had happened, move you carefully so you were laying on your back, his thick, scarred hands gripping your thighs and spreading your legs so he can comfortably settle between them.
🔪 He belonged between your legs and it was his spot that he would never give up, he pants beneath his mask as his shaky hand reaches for the zipper of his coveralls and slowly pulls down until he was able to shrug it off his upper body and allow his cock to be freed after he pulled it from his boxers.
🔪 Michael let his fat, half hard cock hang there after a few dry tugs with his hand, his hands go back to your body and explore it like he had done many times before. He lifted your shirt up enough to see your tits and he watched as the cold air made your nipples hard, your skin had goosebumps from the cold and his ghostly touch as he brushes his fingers along the soft flesh of your breast.
🔪 Michael swallowed some spit that formed in his mouth, his cock bobbing a bit as more blood rushed to it as he groped and squeezed your tits with his large, rough hands. You moaned softly in your sleep, squirming as your body began to burn with desire just like his was.
🔪 Your moans made his cock bob as it got harder as time passed, he loved the feeling of your tits in his hands and couldn't help but fondle them and feel the soft skin. A contrast to his rough skin, Michael paused one of his hands the were fondling your chest and reached down to your hip instead. He effortlessly lifts up your lower half, angling you so that he can properly grind himself between your legs.
🔪 His now fully hard cock leaked precum and smeared onto your undies and on the skin just above to rim of your undies, he grunts quietly as the friction of the fabric of your undies against his aching cock sent sparks of pleasure throughout his body.
🔪 Michael could feel your panites getting soaked by your own arousal and it made his cock throb painfully, rutting his hips faster against yours and digging his nails into your flesh. You whimper and moan, subconsciously rolling your hips just in time with Michael's thrust which made him bite back a low grunt.
🔪 Michael let go of your breast, reaching down and gripping your other hip and focused on rutting his needy leaking cock against your soaked panties. He was painfully hard, your whines of pleasure were making his ears burn and the smell of your arousal was addicting to him.
"Mm fuck..Michaellll.."
🔪 He almost gripped your hips far too tight which would've left some nasty bruises, his eyes snap towards you face, expecting to see you fully awake and staring at him but you were still asleep and had just moaned out his name in your sleep.
🔪 He shudders and his speed picking up as he began to roll your hips for you so you could match with his, your pussy was drooling and clenched around nothing and your clit throbbed as the friction of the fabric of your panties caused from his cock grinding against you.
🔪 You squirmed in his grasp, thighs bucking as you continued to whimper loudly from the pleasure building up and making your body sweat from the pressure forming in your lower belly, Michael badly wanted to stuff his cock deep inside your warm cunt and the urge to rip your panties off and do it without the care of you waking up was growing greatly.
🔪 Michael had to be patient though, he watched your face scrunch and morph from the pleasure that he was causing you which caused him to let out a quiet grunt.
🔪 Your chest heaved, tits bouncing with each rut of Michael's hips, toes curling and your hands lazily gripping at your scrunched up shirt to hold onto something as you got closer to your climax, you kept crying out his name as drool dribbled down the corner of your mouth from the bliss.
🔪 After a few more thrusts, he watched as your back arched and a whine rip from your throat as the knot in your stomach snaps finally. Your legs shook and your body flushed hot as your orgasm hits you hard, Michael could feel you get even wetter, ruining your panties even more than they already were.
🔪 Michael knew he wasn't far behind and he closed his eyes as he focused on his climax, he was so fucking close, losing himself in the bliss of dry humping against your clothed cunt.
🔪 Michael jerks his hips once, twice, until finally cum spews from the fat head of his cock, he bites his lip hard to keep in the growl that wanted to escape from deep within his chest. Ropes of warm cum shoot from his tip and all over your undies and your stomach, he pants as he ruts his hips a few more times which caused your legs to kick from overstimulation.
🔪 Michael opens his dark blue eyes and stared at the mess he made on your lower body, he slowly calms down and slowly sets your hips down onto the bed. Tilting his head to the side, admiring the view.
🔪 Michael tucked his softened cock back into his boxers and fixed his coveralls so he was dressed like he usually did, he grunts as he grabs the end of your shirt and pulls it back down, using it to clean the mess. (Dick)
🔪 He slowly got off of you and stood there, watching as your legs twitched and your body glowed softly from the sweat from what had just transpired, slowly you calmed down from your high. Michael eyed your panties, his hand twitching a little, wanting to take your panties as a souvenir for when he couldn't do this again..
🔪 Michael left your room after he put the blanket back on your body, with his blood soaked knife in one hand and in the other was your ruined panties.
🔪🔪🔪🔪
Thank you for reading!!!!
Oh man I have a lot of requests to do but I’m glad this was the one I finished doing first considering it’s Michael Myers🔪💦💦💦
Also I’m using a new writing program instead of google docs, trying to get the hang of it..con is that it’s not great with auto correcting which sucks cuz I have dyslexia💀
The room is dark. Silent. Except for your breathing.. shaky, fast, excited.
Michael’s sitting in the corner, still in that damn jumpsuit, the white mask staring straight at you. He’s huge. He hasn’t said a word. He never does. But his fists are clenched and the bulge in his pants tells you everything you need to know. You crawl into his lap, straddling those thick thighs, and for a second you swear he stops breathing. His chest rises slowly. Controlled. Like he’s trying not to snap.
“I missed you..” you whisper, dragging your hips down until you can feel him, hard and heavy under you.
Nothing. Just the mask. Just the silent tension.
So you grind.
His head tilts.
You unzip him.
He growls.
Suddenly you’re sinking down on his thick length, moaning like you’ve lost your mind. He is holding your hips tight enough to bruise but letting you take control. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your forehead pressed to his chest, his cock buried deep inside you.
“Did you miss me too?” you whimpered.
No answer.. but his hips jerk up once, hard, slamming into you so deep your eyes roll back. He’s trying not to ruin you. He’s letting you ride. Barely.
You start bouncing, and he growls low in his throat like a beast trying not to break its cage. His grip gets rougher. He’s holding back destruction just for you. And when you cum, sobbing and shaking, he finally loses it.
He lifts you, slams you down, over and over until you’re ruined, messy, gasping, your voice wrecked.
And still, he says nothing.
But the way his arms wrap around you when it’s done? The way he buries his masked face in your neck like you’re the only thing keeping him human?
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
I don't know who needs to see this, but there's this comic called "Freddy vs Jason vs Ash: The Nightmare Warriors" where, long story short, Freddy uses the Necronomicon to heal Jason's decaying body- he heals him to the fullest pretty much, and
