#slasherfic

[grues0mefawn]

He would probably kill me- credit to Me btw!

[spookychick78]

Chucky One Shot: Request

Chucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, language, (Jade's outfit is different from the movie for ✨dramatic effect✨) and oh, captives? Anyway, let's get into it.

Word Count: 2756

"Jesus, (y/n). How many times to I have to fuckin' explain this, just-," he paused mid sentence with his rubber, or plastic, you'd never quite figured out what material you were both made of at this point, but nonetheless, his hand rested on his forehead with a frustrated sigh, "you're just gonna repeat after me, got it?"

Your captives were bound, lying flat on their backs with their eyes wide. Muffled pleas flew endlessly from their gagged mouths as they struggled desperately to find a way out of the present situation. It was quite impressive, you had to admit, that Chucky, who was no more than two, maybe three feet tall at most, had managed to reduce two fully grown adults to such a state. You'd never say it aloud, his ego didn't require further stroking at this point, he knew very well he was beyond good at what he did. In fact, he'd gotten you both there, all the way to Hackensack's darkened and if you being honest, unsettling graveyard with less struggle than you'd expected. The wind whipped past the two of you, nearly knocking you off of your plastic feet as you stood atop your soon to be new body with a frown. You weren't quite sure if it was pity you felt as you studied Jade's furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes, though perhaps it should have been, it was uncertainty. Specifically about whether or not you wanted to be her, well, be in her body.

"Isn't there anyone else we could find to do this?" You asked, spurring on another disgruntled sound out of your partner.

"You've got to be kiddin' me," Chucky muttered as his grip tightened around the necklace with the oversized rhomboidal amulet hanging from the chain, "is that really why you're being such a pain in the ass? Looks?"

Jade was pretty, in the traditional sense, but in your opinion such childlike features would be difficult to acclimate to. You tried to picture adorning her body in black, deep reds, your usual gothic attire and cringed. She was nothing compared to the body he'd destroyed, your body.

"Pardon me for wanting a little more class," you muttered back, earning another muffled yell from below you, "something I'm sure you've never heard of."

His artificial features contorted to form an incredulous expression as he shook his head, "You know, I'm starting to think you want me to kill you and don't think it hasn't crossed my mind to."

"Ditto, babe," you replied with a smirk, "it would only be fair."

"Look, can we save the threats until we can make good on them in real bodies? Let's just get this over with," he retorted as he situated himself between Jesse and Jade, "then I'll really give you something to bitch about."

You hopped off with a huff and folded your dwarfed arms, or tried to. They were just short enough to make such a simple movement tedious. Perhaps you could get used to such plain looks of it meant you'd have the freedom of actual limbs again.

"Ade due Damballa. Give me the power I beg of you," he began with his arms outstretched and an exaggerated tone.

You allowed yourself a brief glance around as he continued, finally reaching parts of the chant you'd never heard before. Usually, some interruption or another would halt him, but not this night. He'd made it far enough to render their eyes shut, their pleas silenced and their bodies still. It was actually working. You felt your heart rate quicken as words continued to spill from his mouth and you drew closer to your new form. You felt it, you were melding with her. For a brief moment her memories, her experiences clouded your vision in such quick succession it gave you whiplash. Then, everything went silent and your vision vanished as a pale white that seemed to grow brighter, more intense with each passing second overcame you until it turned black. With the darkness came feeling, a subtle tingle that pricked at the tips of your fingers and toes. The sensation spread and tingling soon turned to a strange, throbbing warmth. You tested it, eyes still consumed by shadows, but movement came surprisingly easy. You felt your arm raise, it was longer than before and when you rested your hand on your face you felt the almost forgotten, but easily remembered texture of flesh. You furrowed your brow and let out a groan as you tried to rid yourself of the fog that filled your new head.

"Holy shit," you heard beside you.

As you began to blink your eyes open, you felt him shoot up. Vision came slow, but eventually the haze lifted and you found it within your ability to sit up. Your legs were the first thing you observed and from that particular angle, you had to admit you were quite pleased with them. They were long with silky smooth skin. Skin you thought to yourself as you let your hand wander down your knee. You'd gotten so used to the hardened structure you'd been for what seemed like ages you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to touch yourself and really feel it. Finally, you lifted your head to see Chucky was doing the same with a baffled smile on his face.

"It worked," he said with a laugh as he stretched his arms out and shook his head in awe, "it actually fuckin' worked!"

Before, you hadn't been sure if Jesse's body would suit Chucky. He was so boyish, the all American type, which was so uncharacteristic for the man you'd known before the doll, but as you studied him then, it worked. It was deceiving, you'd never think he'd be capable of committing the crimes he'd grown so addicted to if you looked at that sweet face under those tousled brown curls, but it really worked. He started to undo his belt, which made you chuckle, you weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it wasn't long until you put two and two together. He pulled the fabric outwards as he lowered his head to study within them.

"Oh, you're gonna love this," he said with a proud nod, "kid was packin'."

"Right, cause you would know," you said with quick wit and a smirk, "what do you have to compare it to, Ken?"

"Hey, we both know I made a pretty good Ken," he said before he finally looked up at you.

His brows raised when he noticed you were still on the ground, legs just slightly tilted to the side with your hands on the behind you to keep yourself upright. Jade had been wearing a white dress that night and it's fabric had been blown by the wind to steadily climb further up your thighs.

"If I'm bein' honest, you look more like Barbie now, doll," he said as he sauntered closer to you.

You quickly replaced the edge of the dress to cover yourself, "Don't even start, Charles. You threatened kill me again not even ten minutes ago."

He lowered himself to the ground just a few feet in front of you and began to crawl closer as he spoke, "Oh, that? Come on, you know me (y/n). I'm all threats, I only bite if you ask nicely or piss me off."

"Well, I'm not asking," you said as his hand found your foot and steadily brushed its way upwards.

You wanted to deny him, he deserved it, but you weren't sure if you could deny yourself, that was the problem. His skin on yours, though it was just a small fraction of his body, felt heavenly. It had been so long since you'd felt human touch that when he bent your leg forward to rest his check against the inside of your knee, an internal throb forced you to further doubt your ability to say no.

"No," he whispered as he started to press his lips to your bare skin, "but you did piss me off."

He bit down then, not enough to hurt, but enough to make that thrum between your legs more prominent. You quickly extended your leg and pressed your foot to the center of his chest, barring him from touching you momentarily and he let out a wicked chuckle.

"I'm not buyin' it, (y/n). You can't tell me you don't wanna test these out," he said as he pushed your leg aside and forced both open this time, "besides, you've never been difficult to convince."

"Shut up," you snapped, but your eyes gave you away as they dipped to his new pair of lips that were curved into a devilish grin and parted just enough to display a row of pristinely white teeth.

"Make me," he said as he lowered his head, careful to keep his eyes on yours so he could watch you relent, "or I'll make you."

The wind betrayed you and blew your dress up again, granting him access to your core, which he wasted no time in drawing closer to. You felt his breath, hot and inviting, billow between the soft flesh of your thighs as one of his hands squeezed your hip. He observed the modest white panties hidden underneath with a laugh.

"Real cute, (y/n)," he said as he reached for the knife beside his former body, "but these aren't really your style, are they?"

He was quick to cut them, tossing the ruined fabric to the side and leaving you exposed to the elements. It was cold, but not for long. His mouth returned and with it, warmth that had you melting as you grit your teeth begrudgingly and gave in. Your head fell back when you felt his tongue glide up the inside of your thigh, tormenting you with your own want. His teeth soon followed as he resumed his nipping in an attempt to make you whine, which worked better than you hoped.

"Oh, for fucks sake," you breathed out with desperation.

His laughter only confirmed that was exactly what he wanted, "That doesn't sound like a no anymore."

"You know it's not," you said as you tensed under his tight grip on your thigh and tried to push yourself up to meet his mouth.

He hummed against your skin then, forcing another whine from you when the vibrations almost gave you needed, but not quite, "Yeah, I know, but you haven't asked nicely."

"Charles, please."

"Eh, I don't know. I don't think you deserve it," he said as he hovered torturously over where you wanted him, allowing his lips to just barely graze the soft flesh with each word he uttered, "maybe I should let you suffer the consequences of being such a brat."

You whipped your head back up and the desperation on your face only served to satisfy him, "You'd only be teasing yourself and you know it," you spat down at him in a weak attempt to get what your way.

"Maybe, but I'm sure there's plenty of chicks who'd be down for the cause with this guy," he said smugly.

"Fuck you," you said with narrowed eyes before you went to push yourself up.

Chucky, however, made sure you stayed in place. With both arms, he pulled you inwards by your legs, which forced you flat on your back. Your head hit the ground with a thud and in an instant, he was on top of you.

"Did I say you could get up?"

His eyes were darker now, threatening, but your body continued to betray you as you looked up at him. Desperate had become an understatement as you took note of the way he was pressed against you. From what you could tell, he hadn't been wrong about what was hidden inside of those jeans and it made you squirm.

"Now," he started as his fingers found rest between the two of you to toy with your entrance, "I said ask nicely."

You felt his thumb settle right where you wanted it, but it remained still. He wouldn't dare grant you the satisfaction of friction so soon. Instead, he left it motionless as he inched his index and middle finger inside of you, painfully slow. You wanted to curse him when he laughed again, amused by how wet you were.

"Normally, I'd count that, but I wanna hear you say it," he said as he dug in deeper, "how badly do you want me to fuck you?"

"I need you to," you whined pitifully as your back arched into his stiff fingers in search of relief.

"I can tell," he said as he abruptly shoved them as deep as they could go, "but, go on."

A moan escaped you as your head dug into the grass below you due to how severely your neck was arched, "Please, whatever you want me to say, do, I don't care. I'll do it, just please."

"I kinda wanna do this all night and we both know I could," he said as he watched you, intrigued as he tested your limits.

No matter how subtle the movement, he got a reaction for each one. He stared hungrily as he listened to your breath quicken, but your expression wasn't nearly pained enough. That was the deciding factor for Chucky, it was all the incentive he needed to hook his fingers upwards and massage that spot that ached for solace.

"Much better," he said when your brows furrowed and your mouth hung open further to silently plead for more.

But just as he started to find a forgiving rhythm, he withdrew, leaving you with an emptiness that could have brought tears to your eyes. Words of protest had just begun to leave your mouth before he tugged you forward again, this time filling you when your bare skin met his. Some foul words left his when he took note of how tight you were with furrowed brows of his own.

"You're lucky it ain't my first time," he teased before he lent down to press a sloppy kiss to your open mouth, "cause fuck, that's a tight fit."

His hand stayed firm on your jaw, holding you in place as he rocked into you and in your legs, in turn, tightened around his waist.

"Now, where was I," he said before he slipped his fingers back into place to rub circles over that poor little nub as he took what he wanted, thrust after thrust.

He had you spinning by then, so wound up it wasn't funny and it didn't take him long to bring you to the edge. He'd practically had you there with his fingers alone, but this was far better than you could have expected. You arms dangled loosely around his neck, hands grappling for purchase, but at his pace you found none. You settled to cling to his free arm that held him up, digging your nails into it as your body clenched tighter around him. You were right there and more than fearful he'd deny you a release given how the entire ordeal started, so you didn't hesitate to beg in advance.

"Please, don't stop," you cried out, clinging to him as you lingered on the edge, ready to jump, "don't you dare stop."

"Stop?"

"No," you said quickly, tightening your legs around him further, "don't."

His breath had grown ragged and despite his teasing, you could tell stopping wasn't a thought in his mind.

"Only cause," he stuttered as his hips began to lose there even pace, "you asked so-"

He leant his head back in an attempt to stifle a moan of his own, but thankfully it escaped, filling your ears with bliss, "nicely," he finished huskily.

That sound of his strained voice had you careening over that edge you'd found and he followed suit, rocking himself through his own high as he let himself spill into you. A slew of curses left his mouth as lewd cries escaped your own and your body went limp. Your hand, that had drawn blood from his arm with your nails, fell stiff on the ground beside you once he finally ceased his movements. He hovered over you, head hung as his shoulders trembled with labored breath.

"Shit," you heard him breath out before he lifted his gaze back to your own, "how was that for a test drive?"

By the look of your sweat laced face, flushed with lidded eyes, he nodded his head, satisfied. And you, well, he didn't leave you hanging, that was for sure.

[mightbestorm]

A soft lil fanfic.

I slowly move my hands up to his orange mask. Carefully removing it off his face. His blue eyes seemed to stare into my soul. I traced his face with my pointer finger, feeling the texture of his skin against my finger pad. The hairs of his eyebrows tickle my finger, the slight bumps on his cheeks that you wouldn’t know are there just looking at him, the stubble of his chin lightly pricking my finger. He looks perfect like this. I ghost my finger over his mouth and lean in. The kiss is soft and gentle, like he’s scared to hurt me. I move my hands to hold his face. His hands hesitantly wrap around my waist. We pull away only when our lungs lack oxygen.

“Michael, I love you”

[lorrainetheslained]

how you met - arvin russel/reader

TW - mentions of ab*se 

Driving away from an abusive relationship, you took everything you could fit in your dinky car, driving to God knows where on a limited gas money budget

As you drive down the ragged tar road, you see a man walking on the right side of the street with his hands in his pockets

You can tell he's smoking a cigarette, and you've been dying for one for hours, since you left your last delicious pack at home with your ex while rushing to leave

You begin to slow down, coming to a near halt by him. He looks up from the ground, a bit startled, as if he was a million miles away in his own head

“Hey man, where you headed? If you’re going straight, I can take you a couple miles for some smokes.”

As you spoke, you heard alarms go off in your head - You literally JUST escaped from an abusive relationship, now’s not the time to make friends with attractive hitchhikers. You needed to be alone, and away from people. Though, for some reason, you were drawn to him. Like he needed a friend.

He smiled at you warmly. “Sure thing. I’m headed wherever you’re going it seems - I don’t have any destination either.” The young man said softly as he looked at the back of your car, filled with your stuff. 

The comment made you blush a little - a tad embarrassed of your transparency, and a bit flustered now that you got a good look at his face. Though, you smile back at him as you welcome him into your vehicle. 

As he gets into the car, he leans into his pocket to provide you a cigrette and a lighter, as if it’s a peace treaty. To really let you know that he doesn’t mean any harm.

This made you swoon a little, immediately feeling safer.  Any weird energy immediately melts away as you two begin to talk - usually you're not much of a talker, and clearly neither is he. But after the stress of what just went down between you and your ex mere hours ago, it was hard to keep everything contained.

It feels like he’s a best friend you’ve had for years, just an hour into the car ride. It’s like the heater is on inside your car, even though it’s been on the fritz for a while. Your insides feel so warm and mallable, and you already know you want to be around him more. And more, can and will turn into forever. You just feel it. 

[zombimilk]

chop top x reader hc’s

Recently watched texas chainsaw massacre and am hyper fixating... Here’s some ideas I have for Chop Top

I like to think that the reader works at a record shop. First meeting when he comes in to look at your music. You catch his eye, so he asks you a buncha silly questions just to have a reason to talk to you. Excitedly following you around the shop and nodding his head with a big, goofy smile as you speak to him. Just a cutesy idea. 

Maybe a more realistic way of meeting Chop would be if you were one of his victims. Your uniqueness was what really piqued his interest. You’re just so cute he couldn’t kill you! Maybe it was your hair color, piercings, jewelry, or eccentric clothing- whatever it was he really liked. 

Chop would probably chain you somewhere in his room until you were to be trusted to be loose. He would make sure to take good care of you! Always feeding you breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Spoon feeding it to you, even if your hands weren’t restrained. 

I think he would tease you a lot. Tease you about anything he knew he could get a reaction from. Also struggles a lot with keeping his hands to himself. He’s quite the annoying boyfriend. But don’t get me wrong- he thinks you’re the coolest! He loves to learn about your interests, share music with you, give you simple little presents like pins or jewelry or maybe even cute little hats. He likes to play with your hair and call you sweet names like angel baby and dollface. He likes to admire you in the mirror as you put your makeup on and get dressed, his face full of curiosity and cheeks slightly flushed. If you’re a girly-girl he might sneak his wire hanger under your skirt to get a few quick panty-shots, snickering to himself when he sees your reaction.

I’ve seen a lot of people think that Chop is a sub in bed... I could see it- but I’m feeling more soft-dommy vibes. I think he would tease you, verbally and physically until you couldn’t take it anymore. He likes to see you whine and whimper for him. He likes to make you ride his thigh, or just dry humping while he’s kissing your neck and chest. Chop Top definitely likes to leave love bites across your body. 

I think he’s into impact play, feet, maybe even a little pee, dacryphilia, and biting- overall he’s an extremely passionate lover. 

[annaphoenix1994]

The Devil Walks Among Us - Completed 4/21/22

Mia Harris has specialized in phycological behaviors, both in mental health institutions and in prisons. Over her ten years of study, she had never encountered a man as reserved as Michael Myers, her new patient with the assistance of Dr. Sartain. Noting his impressive intelligence for being mute, it was clear that the rare people to communicate with Michael were ones that he let close and set his own boundary, which was very rare.

Masterlist:

The Shape of Haddonfield

Prison Montage

The Shape is Monumental

Cruel Intentions

Hallway Madness

Reflection

Thirst for Contact

Hollowed Goodbye

Pressure

Did He Escape?

The Shape Returns

Hunting Grounds

Crossing the Boundary

Idle Hands (NSFW)

Aftermath

Cat and Mouse (NSFW)

Future Endeavors

Fresh Start

Thanksgiving - Part 1

Thanksgiving - Part 2 (NSFW)

Thanksgiving - Part 3

Swannanoa

Patience is a Virtue

10x10

Roses

High & Mighty

Happy Halloween

Unstoppable

Killer Intentions

Burn, Michael, Burn!

From the Fire

Hunting the Shape

"It's Halloween"

Run, Baby, Run!

Right Place, Wrong Time

Thoughtless

Gotcha

Payback

Aftermath

And a Baby Makes Three

Home is Where You Are

Fatherhood for Dummies

Settling

Crossing Paths

Keep the Wolves Away

Subdued Memories

Rest in... Pieces

In My Heart is a Memory, and There You'll Always Be

Torched Past

Gaslight Heart

Shades of Gray

Cover Me Up (NSFW)

Fire Away

Beauty In the Eye of the Beholder

Beginning of Hard Times

Pathos

Life of Sin

If It Hadn't Been for Love

Rearview Town

Southside of Heaven

Honky Tonk Flame

Long Violent History

Home is Where You Are - ll

Going First

Going Nowhere (NSFW)

Shake the Frost

[sugarlove-01]

The Cruelty

Ok this is my story of DwayneXReaderXDavid based in Santa Carla with my own character. I loved the Lost Boys! Always have and always will. They were my favorite characters so I had to write a story about both of them.

Be warned: this isn't a happy fic, this is fanfiction that is based on obsession, stalking, murder, abuse, and death. Some themes are triggering, so be warned.

But it's also a love story.

Prologue:

If you know one of these. You know them all.

You’re born.

You live.

You die.

There you go, life sucks.         

Chapter 1:

Your POV:

Monday, June 13th

9:13 in the Morning

“Mom, can I go down to the beach? And the carnival, please?” I asked.

“Yea, sure. Go out. Explore,” replied my mom.

“Ok, thanks. And I moved in all my stuff to my room.”

“Did you take out all the boxes?”

“Yea. I brought in your purse, too. You forgot it in the truck again.”

“Ok thanks. On your way back, can you bring back some milk?”

“For cereal?”

“No, for Oreo cookies this evening… And cereal tomorrow.”

“Ok. I’ll be back…”

            I walked out of the house. Noting to myself to go to the gas station later this evening for milk. My mother, calling a few friends on the phone, talking about a book club. I rolled down my sleeves. Got my green jacket and my brown shoes on. The weatherman predicted a cloudy day in Santa Carla. Maybe a few winds. Going to the shed, I got out my bike. Unlocked the chain and peddled off.

            Not much has been happening in Santa Carla. Not for the past week that I’ve been here. The moving trucks weren’t needed anymore and my mother had all the help she could get from my father. My father was sleeping on the couch infront of the TV when  had left. He always looked so restless ever since we moved. Maybe it was the exhaustion of moving, or he missed our old house as much as I did.

            As I rode, I passed Tom on the way down the road. He was taking out the trash. He was a neighbor, the one who first greeted us when we moved in. He always took out the trash at 8:15 in the morning, every day. He worked at a hot dog stand near the carnival. He was, in truth, an artist actually. When we first met, I promised him I’d try one of his hotdogs when I went down to check it out.

            I rode out of the neighborhood and down the road. Down the road I looked around. Two men were hanging out at a gas station. One man with dreadlocks was looking at a magazine with a plastic bag in his hand. The other was reading a newspaper. The both of them stood next to a bulletin board that had paper fliers on it. Fliers for concerts, yard sales, puppies, and lost children.

            I got to the pier. The beach looked occupied and warm, with trash all around it. But there were a few men with trash bags picking everything up. I attached my bike to the railings that had bubblegum underneath it. There was strange people here who looked at you and snickered. It seemed they had a thousand piercings and a thousand tattoos and with many different hair styles. They were wild kids.

“So this is Santa Carla….”

            I chained up my bike. With money in my pocket I got in and looked everywhere for something or anything interesting. And there was many in fact. Clowns juggled. Boys danced on cardboard. Cotton candy stands and other sweets were open. Men tried to talk you into buying lotions and cellphone chargers. Even shops for mini golf and leather jackets. Souvenir shops. Tobacco shops. And others.

            I passed my way by, not bothering the roller coaster or other carnival rides. So I walked around the carnival in a circle. There was a drink stand and I decided to buy a pretzel. The cashier inside wore a red and white shirt. He went to get my order. I waited. There was women in bathing suits eating at the tables and shirtless men who watched them. They looked at me sometimes, but didn’t bother.

            The man in red and white came back with my pretzel and a napkin. He asked me for anything else, I said no. When I finished my fingers were buttery and tasted of salt. I went looking for a trash can. At the corner of the stand I found a trashcan, and I 6 men there. One man held a boom box over his shoulder. One man whistled at me, wearing a red spiked dog collar with high eyebrows. I threw away the napkin.

“Hey sweety…” He clicked his tongue.

            I looked at him. And his friend chuckled. I kept walking. Soon I found myself looking in a comic book store. A man and a woman were behind the counter, looking as if asleep. They wore black glasses. I paid no attention. But there were two boys. They packed comics out of a box, placing them on shelves, and organizing them. I didn’t mind comics. What I loved most was the art work and the action.

            Later that evening, I began looking for a hotdog stand. I didn’t have breakfast this morning. But it wasn’t just any hotdog stand. It was where my neighbor worked, Tom. He said I could come right over if I wanted. I found it. It had yellow and green neon lights with a picture of a hotdog man. Tom was there, at the counter in a white and red worker outfit and waiting for someone to approach. And I did.

“Hey Tom…!” I smiled.

“Oh hey! How ya doin, girl? Likin‘ Santa Carla? Or hatin’ it already?”

“It’s ok. I’m just looking around.”

“Ok, cool. You want anything to eat? And guess what’s on the menu!? Hotdogs!”

“Like, omg, no way! I would never have guessed....” I laughed.

            The menu was awesome. There was hotdogs on there that I didn’t know existed. Tom worked with a smile and made my small dinner. A hot dog, french fries, an ice-cream bar and a Coke. The Coke came in a glass bottle with a straw for it. Tom talked to me more and said there were seats I could sit on with umbrellas and eat. Where no one could bother me. And when he’s off, he could walk me home.

            I was glad, because that man with the spiked collar creeped me out. It was exciting to be here. There wasn’t much to do. I watch wild kids run with shopping carts, playing duel. Men flirting with women. The security guards watching the boys with spiked hair and alcohol. The tattoo people get more tattoos in stands. The people with piercings get more piercings. And kids dancing to heavy metal on the street.

            Rolling down my sleeves, I went to the beach. That was where it was most hectic. A lot of people were sunbathing and surfing and making sand castles and digging big holes on the beach. A bunch of seagulls were flying over picking up small stranded Dorito ships and Cheetos. Even dogs were on the beach, trying to steal a snack or two from their owners or from strangers. But they were just playful.

            It wasn’t later until I went across the Boardwalk watching men in black and white juggle random objects and others host magic shows. Near there I found a Videotape store. The best selection in Santa Carla, and perhaps I could agree. The shop was covered with neon lights, fliers of lost children, and a weird smell around it and with a white dog at the entrance. There was even posters in the corner.

            Finally after a long day at the carnival, I made my way back home. Tom said that he could meet me at the gas station. Tom knew that this the streets could be dangerous. It was a long day. I approached the gas station. The bulletin board seemed to have been added more pictures of children and other people who were lost. That was the thing I noticed most about this new home of mine. All the fliers.

            Peddling towards the gas station, I went inside. There were more fliers of lost children, and a security guard with a mustache. Going inside, I looked for the milk and a newspaper. It was only 8:15 in the evening, but I felt it was time to turn in. And I was tired. And plus my mother probably waited long enough for the milk. The newspaper was for me. Tom was already inside, and we both walked home from there.

David’s POV:

Monday, June 13th

6:30 in the Evening

            As soon as the boys woke from their sleep, they were hungry. Their fangs showing and their eyes fiery and ghoulish. So they found more Surf Nazis, laying around on the beach far from any civilization to hear them scream. So it was perfect. They tore them apart and drank their blood. The Boys were cheerful that night. They threw their bodies into the fire, sizzling. Their skin, cooked, crispy, and curled. They were dead and drained and gone. The boys were satisfied as they howled in laughter. Paul, Marko, and Dwayne were in high spirit tonight.

            David laughed as well. They discarded the bodies, and soon they had to meet up with Max. David lead the way, flying towards the pier. He was well rested to go the Boardwalk and look for her. Yes, dear reader, he’s looking for someone. She must be walking around at this time. David knew that this girl was out and about. Walking about, vulnerable and open. She was new. It was not long ago when David saw her, but it was an accident. Less than a week ago. And that’s when the wheels of fate began to turn. For better or for worse, he didn’t know.

            A walk down memory lane, he remembered when he first looked at her. The sighting was an accident. David thought that she was Star, but was wrong. She had straight hair, different colored eyes. She wore different clothing, not like the gypsy wardrobe Star had for herself. By the look on her face, she didn’t really know Santa Carla or its people. In a way, David, thought it was adorable how she looked so lost and vulnerable to everyone and everything. She was so polite, that even if she ran into a wall she would excuse herself. Prey.

“Hey, yo! Hey! Where ya goin’ David!? I thought we were all goin’ out together, dude?” Marko called out.

“Where’s he goin? It’s not even 8:00 and he’s already ditching us for…. some chicks that he’s either gonna bang or eat!” Paul grinned.

“I don’t have to baby sit you guys all night. Make your way on your own…”

“Aw, come on David. This is the 5th night that you’ve ditched us for god knows what. The hell is goin on? Where the hell do you go buddy?”

            David closed his eyes, gained back his patience, and gripped his bike handle hard. Gripping that bike handle was great restraint on his part. They others mounted their bikes and began their engines.

“Why the hell would he--- Oh nevermind,” Dwayne looked away.

“Oh god. Would you all shutup? I’m goin my own way… See you guys back at the cave…” David seated his motorcycle.

“What? We’re not good ‘nough for you? You leavin us for someone else?” Marko joked.

“Oh, David, is that true? I thought we all had something special!” Paul put the back of his hand on his forehead, swaying backwards.

“Get outta here!” Marko pushed Paul and laughed with him.

            David started his bike and sped off. Leaving his brothers in the dust. Paul and Marko had stupid smiles on their faces.

“Wow, he just chucked it didn’t he?”

“David has no time for us anymore, huh?”

“Just hit it and quit it…”

“Always been my motto…” Paul nodded his head.

Dwayne’s POV:

Monday, June 13th

7:00 in the evening

            The three boys drove off their own way. Their leader flying away to wherever he was gong. The boys didn’t really mind, so they flew off to the carnival. Going off to the Boardwalk, where they dominated all the other gangs in sight. Dwayne looked back, thinking where David really went. It would be easy to ditch Paul and Marko, since they were geeky losers. Something was up, and he didn’t like the fact that David was being mysterious and suspicious. David didn’t have the leader-like qualities like he used to, and that was something that couldn‘t be tolerated. So the boys walked, talking about going to the Videostore. But the quiet one of the group had other plans.

“I’m out,” Dwayne started to walk away, going to find David.

“Hey, whoa there. Where you are going?” asked Marko. Paul noticed and turned to him.

“What’s it to ya?” Dwayne groaned and turned towards Paul and Marko.

“It’s David and now you? What the hell is goin’ on?” asked Paul.

            Damn, Dwayne thought they wouldn’t notice him leaving. Paul was on his right side and on his left side, Dwayne was sandwiched in between them. Being irritated by their very presence.

“None of your damn business! Just drop it.” Dwayne rolled his eyes.

“Ya know, this is the first time this has happened. We’re separating.” Marko pointed out.

“What are you? A lost puppy? We don’t need to be together all the time!”

“Just pointing it out, man! Just wondering where the hell he is!”

“Who?”

“David! That’s who! Ya know!? The one that keeps ditching us for the past 5 days!”

“Shit, man. Maybe you two are the reason he leaves in the first place, damn it!”

“Oh, Dwayne! That was cold!”

“Shut up and get outta my way! Shut your mouth and move it!”

“Ok! Ok! You don’t need to snap, man! Damn, Dwayne! Just chill! Just chill!”

“Well, ya know what I--”

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Can’t you see you’re tearing this family apart!?” Paul gasped and put both his fisted hands on his face with his knees bent towards eachother. What a joker.

“Drama Queen…” Dwayne whispered. Paul noticed.

“Hey, I heard that!”

“Good! It was meant to be heard!” Dwayne called back, leaving them alone.

            So the silent one of the bunch left, and searched for their fearless leader. He walked through the crowds, people looked at him but only saw him as a bored and peculiar man. Some looked at him as a very serious and dangerous man, that could out-silence the dead. Of course the boys had a reputation around Santa Carla. Maybe some people knew his name. Even the other gangs on the beach feared him and his brothers, and try to keep to themselves.

            After walking around for about 20 minutes, Dwayne sat down, lifted his knee to his chest and sighed. The seat was oddly comfortable and clean. No bubblegum or spray paint. Yellow and green neon lights glowed on him. He looked up to see a picture of a hotdog man. A really stupid thing. Dwayne looked at the man at the cashier, dressed in red and white. Maybe Dwayne should tip him in the tip jar. He decided yes, because that guys life as a hotdog man sucks. Then he saw the customer.

            Her long hair. Her jaw line. Her nose. Her ears. Her brown shoes and green jacket. Her hands. In a way, when he first saw her, she looked like Star. But he was mistaken. She was…pretty. She was ordering a hotdog from the worker in red and white. Then something caught his attention. The smell of hotdogs and mustard didn’t catch his nose, but it was her shirt or jacket.

            Dwayne looked at her face, and she didn’t have any wrinkles or any evidence that she did any drinking or drugs. She looked clean. Healthy. But she smelled like cigarettes, alcohol, and… blood. He could obviously see that she wasn’t a vampire or anything. He knew it was all on her jacket. Was that jacket hers? Did she drop it, let it get trampled on by bleeding crack heads, and then wear it again?

            But it was familiar. And he knew it, but couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Then she came over and sat down on the tables and began eating. For some reason, he was intrigued by her. She looked… normal. More normal than anyone here in this whole damn place. She didn’t notice that he was sitting near her. But she just ate, and sat there, and just…looked cute. She looked deep. Real. Like a book with no ending. And soon after a quick 5 minutes, she finished and began walking again.

            He saw her once. But decided to leave it be. He searched for David again. But never found him. Near midnight or so, Dwayne feasted on a lone homeless man before finding his way back to his group. Paul and Marko only wasted their time chasing cats and talking about Max and the Videostore and getting Thorn a spiky collar. Near the time of morning, they hid their bikes, flew back to their cave, hung themselves upside down, and by that time Dwayne had forgotten all about the girl.

David’s POV:

Monday, June 13th

7:05 in the Evening

            She was at the hotdog stand with Tom. Talking. Tom was her neighbor down from her house. From the distance David was, she seemed comforted by Tom. Of course David knew that he was the only friend that she knew. In the crowd all alone, she seemed to be so out of place and awkward. People passed by, and he was delighted that he easily blended in. He transformed himself into a hunter. Teaching himself patience and strength to keep his distance and learn everything. Not telling the boys.

            The hunter that hadn’t made his move yet. He would attack soon, but not just yet. He had to have some sort of tactical plan to get close to her. A gameplan. He had to expand his grounds and know everything about her. And so he did, not telling the boys. After he first saw her a week ago, he followed her home. He saw her parents. They looked like any other couple, looking out for their loved one and all that crap. Enough of them. Around town, she didn’t really have a routine, but just wandered.

            The hard thing was that he slept all day, and knew she was out and about all day. The other hard thing was that she retired too early in the evening for him to see her. So instead he watched her from inside her home sometimes. Her parents obviously looked very delicious, and it was all due to the smell in their veins. She was definitely new in Santa Carla. She moved from Washington. Why she moved, he didn’t know. He learned some small things about her as he continually watched her every move.

            She liked to help her mother with the garden up front, watch her dad cut out magazine pictures and paste them on paper, she loved to see movies every weekend all by herself, talk with Tom in his front yard about Santa Carla and it’s people, her favorite snack were smores, she liked to arrange her room differently each day, she liked to talk with her friends on the phone, play with her hair, watch television and listen to the radio at the same time, and sit in her room and do nothing. She was fascinating.

            So for the rest of the evening, he followed. Keeping his hands in his pockets. Soon he followed her to the gas station where she was suppose to meet Tom and he could walk her home from there. She walked in after looking at the bulletin board. David walked up and entered the gas station himself. The girl didn’t notice him. David walked past the magazines and refreshments to the small shelf of cigarettes and lighters. Tom looked up and smiled as he looked at her. And…David didn’t like Tom.

            David knew that if he tried to get near the girl, then Tom would interfere. For example, if David attacked, then Tom would get in the way. He would be reported and leave an entire mess and have a search party or something. And plus, Max said to keep a low profile. Plus, Tom seemed to be the only reason that the girl left her house and go to the pier in the first place. So…David knew that the damn bastard had to live.

            So Tom and the girl stood in line. Tom’s shoulder was in contact with hers, and David didn’t know if it was a public display of affection. Tom didn’t have anything to purchase, but she had milk and a newspaper. Tom offered to carry her things, but she refused him. David stood right behind them, waiting with them in line. David noticed that every once in awhile, Tom would look over at her and smile. And she would look back and smile, hugging the milk closer. Squeezing the newspaper a little.

            Slowly, but cautiously, David raised his hand and made a small trace down her jacket. Touching her. His glove made a line down her back. David’s been doing this for the past week, and she had never noticed. Putting a small, tiny, teeny fraction of his scent on her. The cashier rang in their stuff, and put the milk and newspaper in a brown paper bag. The girl said to Tom that the milk was for Oreo cookies and cereal, and Tom nodded and smiled at her again. After they left, David purchased his stuff.

[spookychick78]

OG Michael Myers One Shot

Okay so hear me out. Michael Myers X Vampire but make it sexy.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, knife play, blood play, choking, biting, rough sex etc.

Word Count: 3,536

Something seemed off in his home that night. He stood in the foyer, knife in hand as he listened. There was no audible sound to give away the other presence that had hidden itself there, no shaky breath, no heartbeat. Yet, in the silence he knew he wasn't alone. He could feel it. His eyes moved up the stairs as he tilted his head. Though their stealth thus far was impressive, whoever it was couldn't hide forever. This was his home and he knew it better than any trespasser could hope to. Nowhere they chose to hide would keep them safe for long if he decided to come looking, but Michael wasn't one to play games. Unless of course, they were his own. He made the rules, especially here. He would wait, he could be patient. They'd reveal themselves sooner or later be it out of desperation, false sense of security, or just plain boredom. He wouldn't give them a choice. He would make them come to him. Yeah, he would win this game. After all, he always did.

Just as a contented smirk started to pull at his hidden lips, movement came from the shadows beside him. He slowly turned his head to see a woman step out of the darkness. She had an arrogance about her he didn't quite understand. The knife in his hand nor the mask on his face did little to scare away the cocky smile that spread across her face as she studied him.

"Hello Michael," she said softly.

He narrowed his eyes at her under his mask. The air about her suggested she thought she had the upper hand. How silly. He lunged forward and his hand went for her throat, but she caught his fist in her palm before he even had the chance to unravel his fingers. He strained against her, waiting for her arm to break from the pressure he applied, but she stayed unmoving. His strength didn't seem to phase her, she was as still as ever.

"So eager to end our game already?" She asked calmly as her hand gripped tighter around his own, "I thought you liked to play."

He wouldn't give in. He gritted his teeth to hold back the pained groan that threatened to escape his lips, anymore pressure and he was sure she would break bones. Still, he held firm in his stance and pushed back against her. He wasn't unaware of the ice cold feel of her skin either, it left quite a sting. She let out a quiet laugh at his unmatched determination. She knew this would be fun.

"I've been watching you, Michael," she whispered as she craned her neck up to get a glimpse of his eyes through that pale mask, "for quite some time."

Her gaze was so fixed on his eyes it almost made him uncomfortable. No one had ever dared look as long as she was, that is if they ever got close enough. Her wanton curiosity both infuriated and intrigued him at the same time. What knowledge had she gained whilst watching him and more importantly, why had she been watching him? She could tell he was growing curious, which was exactly what she wanted. She let her grip loosen and he took his opportunity to force her across the room into the wall. She had decided to let him win a little, she knew him well enough to know it was something he needed to keep his interest. She felt the tip of his knife at her naval, almost begging to break skin, but he kept it from entering. His other hand gripped her throat dangerously tight, but it mattered not. He could squeeze harder if he wanted to, she had no use for breath.

"Don't be shy," she said as her hands rested over his tight grip on the knife's handle, "do it."

He felt her force the knife forward slowly. Her skin tore around it's sharp tip as she granted it entry. He didn't like that she had taken such control over the situation so he took it back and swiftly. He plunged his knife into her as deep as it could go and what should have been a cry of agony sounded like an expression of pleasure. He tilted his head as he watched her smile when he twisted the blade within her.

"We're not so different, you and I," she started calmly as though the knife in her had no effect, "death means nothing to us and yet, it is the very nature of our existence."

He was growing incredibly frustrated at her elaborate way of aligning herself with him. He pulled his knife out only to plunge it back in again, harder this time. That only seemed to make her laugh.

"You don't seem to understand," she said before she quickly ripped the knife from his hand, "we are not meant to die."

His hand around her throat tightened enough to break bones, but not hers. She grabbed his wrist and without words, requested he release his grip. Naturally, he denied her so she resorted to force. He couldn't fathom that she had the strength to, but she was able to pry his hand from her neck and easily.

"You like death, Michael?" She asked as she brought the blade to her throat, "Then let me introduce her to you."

She dragged the knife sideways slowly along her skin and her blood turned the parts of her visible to him red. For the first time in his life, Michael watched in disbelief. Her throat was open before him and yet she was somehow still alive, looking back at him with a smile. What blew his mind further was that he could tell it wasn't that it didn't hurt her, it did and she liked it. She returned the knife that was now coated in her blood to him.

"You see, we are the same. Only your heart still beats, whereas mine," she said as she took his hand and placed it over her heart.

There was nothing. No unsteady beat to relish in, no quickened breath, just cold skin underneath his palm.

"You defy death in a different way, but we are both death's deliverers," she said as she brought his hand up to her open mouth.

Michael watched with unbridled curiosity as her gums retracted and her incisors grew exponentially. She kept her mouth agape and invited him to explore, just as he had hoped she would. He let his fingers brush over each of them, admiring just how sharp they really were. Just before he pulled away, he cut himself on one. She hummed with pleasure as she tasted his blood on her tongue. He noticed her eyes had changed, they now had an eerie orange glow. His favorite color. She was somehow paler than before, almost ghostly. He could really admire those fangs now that she was smiling again at his taste. She made quite a pretty picture with all that blood still dripping down her. The embodiment of death. Michael didn't realize he was capable of feeling desire, but something about that animalistic hunger in her eyes that his own blood had awakened made him want to explore her further, test her limits. She had no need for a weapon, her own body was that in of itself. He was beyond fascinated, which pleased her. She had him right where she wanted him.

"I've watched you kill and be killed. I've watched you die over and over and yet, your heart keeps beating, your blood keeps pumping. You hunger as I do. I kill to survive, but you," she flashed that eerie smile again as she let out a low laugh, "you don't need blood to live, you simply want it. Well, I want to understand you, Michael, but more than anything, I want to taste an immortal. I want to taste you."

She still held his hand in hers and he could tell the blood that steadily dripped from his finger was driving her to madness. He saw control within his grasp again and he wasn't going to let it go. He pulled his hand away from her and dismay began to spread over her face until he brought it back to her mouth. He ran his finger over her lips, coating them in his blood. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and her eyes rolled back as she tasted him again. Her hands went up to hold his once more and he allowed her to.

"May I?" She asked softly.

He gave her nothing, but his silence was her green light. She dragged her tongue from his palm to the tip of his index finger, leaving no trace of blood behind. She then took it in her mouth. He felt her open the wound further with one of her teeth before she began to drink. He watched her body relax entirely once she tasted him again, more than before. He tasted different, just as she had expected, sweeter. The small amount he had allotted her satisfied her more than any other she had tasted before. Each drop was bliss and he could see it all over her. That pull he felt was strange, but euphoric all at once. It made him feel light, almost weightless. It gave him a rush unlike any other he had felt before and he let his head fall back as the feeling washed over him. Her eyes flickered open to see his neck was exposed to her. It was becoming incredibly difficult to control her hunger, he simply tasted too good. Then again, she wasn't sure she had to control herself. After all, that was why she sought him out. There was no risk of him dying. He was an endless supply of bliss for her, she just needed him to want her as much as she wanted him.

He could feel her growing needier as she sucked harder than before. He looked back down at her and saw she was watching him. Those orange eyes were filled with lust as they stayed glued to his neck. He smirked behind his mask before he pulled his finger away from her. She hissed at the sudden emptiness he left behind and her brow furrowed. He quickly grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back against the wall. It was his turn to explore her.

She laughed again, "You can't break me, Michael."

He pressed his body against hers with enough force to probably crush any normal being. She was so cold, he could feel her icy skin through his boiler suit, but it brought relief to his increasingly raised body heat. She was bringing sensations to the surface he had never felt before and he knew she was more than aware. She could feel it.

"Is that what you want?" She whispered up at him, "would you like to break me, Michael?"

He responded by squeezing her throat as tight as he could. He wanted to more than she knew and he could tell he wasn't alone in his desire. It felt fitting that he would give himself to death, or perhaps it was death who would give herself to him. The thought was enough to make his breath falter. He wanted those teeth in him again and he wanted her against the wall where she belonged with her cold legs wrapped around him.

"Then break me," she said in an almost hypnotizing tone.

With his other hand he ripped his mask off so he could press his lips to hers. It was almost like kissing stone. She was so cold and firm. Unbreakable. If he was going to have a lover, she would have to be, because Michael knew nothing of self control. At least not when it came to killing, he could only imagine sex would be no different. She didn't ask for his self control, she didn't need it. She was perfectly matched to him, made for him. He wasn't quite sure how such a thing had landed in his grasp, but he wasn't about to let it slip. She was his now, whether she had asked to be or not. She was his to do with just as he pleased. She may have been physically unbreakable, but Michael would find other ways to break her, it was what he was good at and she would love every second of it. One thing was already very much in his control. She had given him that leash to hold without even realizing it.

He felt her clamoring to pull his boiler suit back as her lips wandered from his own and down to his neck. He knew what she was doing, he could feel those sharp teeth grazing his exposed skin and he allowed her to continue until he felt her self control slip. Just before she could sink into him he shoved her back against the wall to remind her that his blood was his to give when, and only when, he chose to. He was in control and he had every intention to make her beg. That was her leash and he held that power in his hands as he always did. She lunged forward again and he only pushed her back harder, so hard the wooden walls of the Myers' house behind her broke. She didn't even flinch, instead she smiled in amusement. It only added to his enthusiasm about the situation. He freed his arms from his boiler suit and promptly tore her blood soaked dress from her body. He watched, amused as she took care of the rest of her clothing. Her body was unlike any other he had seen. Flawless, in his eyes and probably anyone else's if they saw. Though, other eyes were no longer a concern, he would be her only admirer. He noticed the stab wound he had dealt her was missing as if it had never happened. She really would be his plaything.

Once she had discarded the last of the cloth covering her, she was on him again. Her lips met his with more force than before. She was intent on showing him just how strong she really was and he was intent on finding out. He felt her nip at his bottom lip as she kissed him and heard her moan when the smallest bit of blood met her tongue. He lifted her up so she could wrap her now bare legs around him and once he was sure she wouldn't fall, he tangled his fingers in her hair. He yanked her head back so her neck was exposed to him this time. He let his lips brush over her icy skin, then his teeth. He was gentle at first as he peppered kisses along her jugular, then he began to experiment. He nipped at her and relished in those pained hisses she let out, though he knew she liked it. If she liked his blade cutting her skin, surely she would enjoy his teeth just the same and he wanted to taste her just as she had him. He bit down and her blood quickly spilled for him. Once he'd had a taste, he pulled back so he could admire the way it poured over her pale skin and the way his bite mark disappeared just so he could leave another in it's place. Despite his tight grip on her hair, she forced her head back down so she could look at him once more. Though it was dark she could make out some of his features. He had dark, curly brown hair, a strong jaw and very serious brows atop dark eyes, but despite his intensity, he had an almost angelic appearance in the shadows. Though, she knew he was no angel. She saw that well enough in his eyes. She saw what he wanted to do to her and it made her body tremble with anticipation. She felt his hands gripping her bare waist so tightly it would have torn mortal flesh. He didn't want to wait any longer, he wanted to claim her as his own, body and, if she had one, soul. She slid her legs down and once her feet found the floor below her, she pushed him to the ground. The floorboards bent around him from the force and he went to push himself up, but before he could she was on top of him. He knew that smirk on her face was because she knew this wasn't how things were going to go, at least not for long. He grabbed hold of her thighs and stopped her from taking him. She could do as she pleased other than that. That was something he would give to her when he felt she deserved it. She met his lips again, sloppily this time as she kissed down his body and let her nails drag on his skin above her head as she got lower and lower. He stifled the groans that we're building within him as he felt her cold lips press against the lowest possible part of his naval. She was careful not to give him what he wanted, that was her leash to hold, at least that's what she thought. As if he'd read her mind, he put a stop to that right away. He wasn't one to be teased. He sat up and grabbed her by her throat to put her on the ground. He not only loved that he could hear the sound of the house being utterly destroyed each time he threw her, but that she could take it. He pinned her underneath him where she belonged and threw her legs around his waist so he could align himself with her. He didn't waste another second to drive himself into her. He felt her nails dig into his back as he took what he wanted. He was surprised to find it came naturally to him, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and how he was going to do it. His hand returned to her throat to bring her up to him so she could take what she wanted. He needed her to now, he wanted that rush from before combined with the feeling of how tight she was around him. He wanted her to drink from him and as much as she wanted. He knew she understood, he watched her tongue glide over her sharp fangs before she latched onto his neck. That rush washed over him instantly and he picked up his pace while he held her head in place. He was unable to control the moans that fell from his lips as she drank from him and deeply. She was glad he held her in place because she could barely hold herself up. Each time he pushed into her he hit a spot that made her head spin. He may have been inexperienced, but he was bringing her closer and closer to her climax with every move he made. Her fingers reached down in desperation, she was almost there, she just needed friction on that other sweet spot he had yet to discover. He caught her hand and quickly replaced it with his own, but allowed her to show him what she wanted. He caught on fast and soon enough she could barely focus on drinking him anymore. Though he tasted so good, what he was doing to her was somehow even better. She unlatched her teeth from him and her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. He watched her face contort in an almost pained expression as her body grew tighter around him. Though he wanted her to continue feeding off of him, watching her face was equally as intoxicating. Watching what he was doing to her, what he was making her feel, it was enough to send him spiraling. Pleasure more intense than any he had ever felt took over, but he didn't stop. She held onto him tight enough to draw blood with her finger nails as he spilled into her. He buried his face in her neck as he rode out his orgasm, letting himself be more vocal than he ever had been in all his life. The sound of him falling apart brought her to the edge once again, which only made him continue. He felt her go limp in his arms as her body reveled in the pleasure he had brought her once again. He removed his face from her neck to look at her. She had her eyes closed and her neck was still craned back as she whispered his name to herself. He wondered if maybe that was all she could take, if maybe he had found her breaking point after all. He started to slow his pace, which only made a smile spread across her face again.

"Did you think we were finished?" She asked cockily.

When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, he smirked. He hadn't broken her yet, so he'd just have to keep trying.