Their Possession - Slashers x Reader

Strangely enough, Michael simply stared at you before holding your other hand; giving it a comforting squeeze and then calmly pulling you in the direction of the bathroom. "Thank you." You thanked the quiet killer awkwardly - appreciating his assistance. "For your help earlier, and for your help now. It...It means a lot to me."

Michael didn't reply, the silent slasher only throwing you a soft shake of the head and instead guiding you towards the bathroom. Then, once you were both inside the room, he sat you down on top of the toilet seat and started dabbing at your arm; making sure to clean the droplets of blood from your skin with a lukewarm washcloth. It stung a little bit, but the pain was necessary - because what else could you've done? There wasn't any other way to escape the dream demon without thinking outside the box, and you were too tired to deal with his wicked antics right now. So you bit your tongue and let him wrap a bandage around the sharply-cut slash.

After that, you merely thanked the stalker for helping you and headed towards your bedroom - planning on getting dressed. "ᗯᕼY ᗩᖇE YOᑌ GETTIᑎG ᗪᖇEᔕᔕEᗪ? IT'ᔕ TᕼE ᗰIᗪᗪᒪE Oᖴ TᕼE ᑎIGᕼT." [A/N: "WHY ARE YOU GETTING DRESSED? IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT."] Michael shoved the notepad in your direction before forcing you to stop grabbing clothes; his fingers curling around your wrist and gripping you tightly.

"Well after that encounter with Freddy, I figured I could really use a breather. So...I'm going to go and visit Camp Crystal Lake. Y'know, to see Jason...?" You took a deep breath in and explained your intentions with slight exhaustion, taking your clothes out of his grasp and carrying on with what you were doing. "So please don't do this—"

But obviously, Michael shook his head and scribbled down his silent jealousy; clearly resenting the fact that you were even considering going to go and see the Crystal Lake killer. "ᑎO. YOᑌ'ᖇE ᑎOT GOIᑎG. YOᑌ'ᖇE ᑎOT ᗩᒪᒪOᗯEᗪ TO. GIᐯE ᗰE TᕼOᔕE ᑕᒪOTᕼEᔕ ᗩᑎᗪ GO ᗷᗩᑕK TO ᗷEᗪ. ᑎOᗯ." [A/N: "NO. YOU'RE NOT GOING. YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO. GIVE ME THOSE CLOTHES AND GO BACK TO BED. NOW."]

"No." You threw Michael an icy glare and shook your head, placing them on your bed to get ready. "Let's get one thing right. You're NOT my father. I agreed to live here on the condition that I get to maintain my freedom. And that's final. So stop treating me like I'm nothing but a little kid, Michael."

The quiet male begrudgingly shook his head and backed away, leaving your bedroom to let you get dressed. Feeling lowkey proud, you quickly put on your clothes and hurriedly brushed your hair; cleaning the sleep out of your eyes before leaving the room yourself. Unsurprisingly, the stalker was patiently waiting for you - obviously wanting to stick right by your side whilst you left for Camp Crystal Lake. Holding in a sigh, you allowed him to join your side; Michael cradling either side of your face with his hands and caressing your cheeks for a moment before pulling away.

"(Y/n)! W-Where are you going-?" Norman's voice called from his own bedroom, the dark-haired teenager standing in the doorway and watching you with worried eyes. "Y-You're not leaving us...a-are you-?"

"I never said I was leaving." You huffed in frustration, feeling more and more on-edge. "So can you please stop thinking that? Please?"