#maybe I’m writing a lil drabble where you find him deep under ground

[ghostchems]

hi. we aren’t talking about THIS enough

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Having the kid of a Slasher. These have vastly different blurbs though so they have lil’ titles! 

Includes: Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers 

Warnings: Freddy’s one includes the kidnapping of a child by their father (A child killer, to boot). Other then that, what can I say? This is Slasher fanfiction, Freddy is himself. Michael’s is pretty humorous though... :D

Notes: 

I really wanna build on these some more! I plans to write a oneshot where Michael and reader eventually get ‘back together’ sort of? And a prequal to Freddy’s where Maggie visits her half brother and Luke questions her and reader about their father. 

Note: Freddy is going to call you mummy if you are woman, man, or gender neutral. And I’m going to spell it the American way because it just seems more fetishized that way and more like the wrapped up Egyptian dead people the English way. I am not sure how you would accidentally have his child if you have a penis, but who knows in this universe. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

~~~

Freddy Krueger: Luke // ‘Protecting your child from his father’

“Hey! How are you?” I call, breathless to the receptionist -Judy, - sitting in school office. She looks up and a haze of confusions crosses her pretty green eyes, and I try not to worry. There could be any reasin this woman is confused to see me that is unrelated to my son’s whereabouts. Deciding not to wait for her to tell me how she is because the anxiety in me clenches around my heart like a boa constrictor, I paste on a bigger smile ask. “Where’s Luke? He didn’t come out when the bell went.”

Maybe he’s in the sick bay, or… I don’t know. What other acceptable reason could there be that my son is not here with me?

Don’t think like that.

My smile must look stiff and sharp at this point, because Judy starts very slowly. Cautious. “… Hi-His Dad picked him up, Miss L/N.”

Dad? My nose scrunches up in utter confusion. I’m absolutely certain that I had Bradley taken off the register as Luke’s secondary emergency contact- I stood right here with this woman for half an hour figuring out how to do that. And besides, why would my ex-husband pick up my son from school and not tell me? Luke doesn’t have a-

His… his Dad? Freddy couldn’t have. I’ve been giving Luke Hypnocil pills since he could take them, crushing them every night and stirring the dust into his dinner. I haven’t heard any signs of Freddy for 8 years and a couple months. Let’s set aside that crazy, ridiculous theory for now. Because its impossible! Even if he did want to do something with Luke, he would try to get to him through his dreams, yes? It would be too risky to come on out here and take him from school. That’s crazy.

“What?” Where is my goddamn son? Who took him?

“U-um, uh. A uh, ‘Fredrick Krueger’ took him about an hour ago. His name was in the system, and they looked a bit alike in the eyes, s-so I-we just assumed it was okay.”

For a moment I think I’m going to die on the spot. Then I spit out. “Is this a joke?!”

Its too horrible, too unthinkable to be true. I’ll say it again; I haven’t heard from Freddy in nearly a fucking decade, and that’s the way I was hoping it would stay. What is this.

“N-No, Miss L/N.”

“Did he say where they were going? Did Luke say anything?” My baby. Starting to breathe heavily now from the effort of staying calm and thinking too fast for a clue as to where my son is and what the hell is going on. Did this chick even look at Freddy’s face?! This school is just handing babies over to suspicious men who look like they should be in the burn ward of the intensive care unit?!

“Miss L/N- “This woman is scared, I know, and anxious as she looks with wide eyes all around me instead of at my eyes but she’s really grating on my nerves. A maniac has my son and she is going to give me all the information she has.

“Do you remember your dreams last night? Or the last couple nights?” That’s how assume Freddy got in the system, manipulated Judith here to do it for him. Maybe he left a clue.

“My- my dreams? Um-mm, well I… “My hand slams down on the bench between us so hard the pen attached to a string attached to the early leavers clipboard jumps up a little. My hand shakes, and as she quickly recalls her dream I read through the most recent entries on the board for the early leavers. Right at the bottom, in tiny handwriting that does not belong to Luke is the name Luke Krueger under student and ‘Doctors appointment’ under ‘Reason for leaving’, and a smiley face. I take a deep breath and turn back to Judy with eyes of molten lava. She fumbles with her glasses, on a string around her neck. “I-I remember a junk yard in a couple… “That’s it.

Already flying to the door, I call back. “Have some child’s school exit forms ready for me tomorrow Judy; Goodbye.” And promptly, I fling the door open and run for hell and leather for my car.

~~~

“LUKE!” I scream into the old junk yard, hands shaking but courage as strong as an ox. Nothing, not even death itself will stop me from saving my kid. Looking around every corner and trying to listen to any sound over the loud beating of my heart in my ears, I speed walk around, heading towards the burnt down old shed, yelling for Luke every 2 seconds because I’m deluded into thinking any second he might hear e, and come running out safe to me. When the horrible thing, the shed, comes into view, I feel sick. Its still burnt up, and rust litters the ground around its four walls but its standing.

They’ll be in there.

Forcing myself ahead, because I never wanted to see this, the place Freddy was killed -Because it’s something so terrible. Not because I give a fuck about what happened to Freddy, - I open the door and immediately there they are. It takes me a second to catch my bearing’s, because this place has such an awful feeling and I’ve never been in a situation like this and I don’t know what to do, and because theirs a child killer with his filthy hand on my 7 year old son’s shoulder.

“Luke?” My eyes soften as soon as they find his. Glancing from him to Freddy’s other hand to see if he has a weapon, especially that glove to find nothing, and back to him, I gesture for my him to come here. “Come over here, baby. Its okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, just frowns and whimpers, looking wearily up at the man who’s holding onto him and for an awful second I think Freddy’s going to pull a fast one on us and pull out a razor or something… but then one finger at a time he lets go of Luke and Luke rushes to me so fast that the force pushes me back a little when he reaches me, wrapping his little arms around my waist and digging his face, shaking so I’m well aware that he’s crying now, into my stomach. I drop to my knees and look him over thoroughly, searching for any indications that this ‘doctors’ appointment’ that he was taken for occurred, but theirs nothing.

A sick taste wells up in my throat as I realise this, and as Luke burrows into me again for more hugs and I wrap my arms around him I look back to the problem. “What-What’s this doctor’s appointment I read about? Just a cover?”

“Not in the slightest! But I thought we should probably wait for you before starting… Mommy. I got us a good deal- family pack!” With that, Freddy takes out a scalpel and grins madly. I tighten my grip on Luke. “Who should go first, eh?”

“Stay the fuck back.”

“Oh, I think not!” I gently tug Luke back as Freddy advances, wondering if it would be smart to make any sudden moves right now.

“I called the police!” God, I wish I had now. But I was too focused on getting here before something awful happened that I…

Forgot.

Oh my god.

He stops coming towards us, but then an evil, knowing smile creeps across his mouth. He tilts his head, calling my bluff. “No, you didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah I did!” So, I’m buying for time. Main objective: Save Luke. Leverage: Me. Freddy’s a being made completely up on vengefulness and anger at this point, and I escaped him. He hates that.

Stroking the back of Lukes head with my thumb in thought, I know what I have to do and make like him giving him a little, worried head kiss- but really whisper to him that our car’s in the carpark and my phone is in the passenger seat. He clutches me tighter. Oh, baby… I wish I could come with you.

“You called nobody. Don’t try to bullshit Daddy. Now, I think our little bundle of joy should go first, more fun for me! Little blast from the past, ey?” He takes another step towards us, causing me to jolt back violently from fear, because I’m so close to saving Luke and if Freddy makes any sudden movements, we both might be done for, and tats just unacceptable. That scalpel is unnecessarily big. Where the hell did he get a scalpel that big?! What is it for? Crocodile surgery?!

Luckily, we’re closer to the door then Freddy is -oopsie made on his part,- so when I let go of Luke he goes straight out the door and before Freddy can reach the door and slip out after him, and push myself hard against the door, slamming it closed. For a second everything is still, which is a scary thing when it comes to this killer, and I just sit there on the ground and watch his scary face just be still.

His eyes, though, expressive as they are, reveal how utterly furious he is.

Then slowly he looks down his chest at me, aiming that mad anger at me as his shaking hand grips the weapon so tightly that his knuckles go absolutely white. “You bitch.”

Michael Myers (RZ): Rachael // ‘Visitation’

“Morning Rache!” I exclaim, setting down cheerily on my 12-year-old’s bed as golden early morning light slips through her purple curtains and leaves stripes on my thighs. “It’s Sunday!”

“Why does it always have to be so early with him? Its not church.” She informs me, sleep thick in her voice as she pulls the doona up over her head and rolls over so her back is to me.

“He thinks very highly of himself.” That or this is when visiting hours are.

“I see that.”

“So… “Like I always do on Sunday, I put pluck the blanket away from her face to see her eyes are open and she’s already fully awake. She always is on Sunday morning, it’s because of what she knows is coming. I tuck some of her hair behind her early, and speak gently now, like always. “You wanna go see your Dad?” It always, always, always needs to be her choice. She always says yes, though.

For a moment this time, she pauses. Then deeply rolls her eyes and flicks the blanket back up over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright. We’ll head off in half an hour, then. Oh- maybe you can tell him about the awkward you got!” I exclaim, brightening immediately because my baby is so smart! Captain of her class, and she just got an award for doing well in maths! Her teacher even told me at parent-teacher interviews that she’s getting the work so much easier than any of the other students. This has been the same since she started Elementary school. Dunno where she got those brains from, but I like to believe if it’s me and not Michael. And I am so proud of her.

“Yeah, I will. Can you get out now so I can get changed, parent?”

“Whatever!” I exclaim cheerfully, like the immature one between us two that I am as I leave the room and shit the door behind me, heading to make her toast. She is more like Michael, in that regard. So focused and serious- I, on the other hand, have Goldfish brain.

Which makes a lot of sense when I ask myself ‘What made you think fucking the Shape of Haddonfield was okay?’ because then I remember ‘Big man, strong hands, big dick’ and I remember.

I’m a moron. Was, a horny moron. But no more! I am a mother now, and mothers don’t get horny! No, no. Ahahaha.

… But that doesn’t mean I regret having Rachael. No fucking way. She’s the mother-fucking light of my life, and I’ll have sex with Michael a thousand more times if that’s what it would take to keep her.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

… Ah, oh well. Toast!

~~~

When we get to Michael’s cell, Rachael goes straight over to the door and uses her foot to move the little stepping stool they keep right there, specially for her -well, I bought it and made them keep it there, but that’s just semantics,- and hops on so she can peer through the window to her father. I stay back a few feet with Dr Loomis, my jacket hung over my crossed arms. Because I don’t have anything in common with Sam Loomis at all, as we have previously discovered on these visits, I turn bluntly to him and ask, shamelessly. “So, how’s he going Doc?” Even though Michael’s condition hasn’t changed since he was six, that is what I ask.

Loomis offers me a crooked, humourless grin and explains that nothing has changed, but he did make Rachael a new mask. “Oh, that’s nice.” I say, although really, don’t think that’s nice. Does Michael think I have endless wall space for these things? I don’t want my home to look like his sanatorium cell. I have taste!

Hey, don’t judge me. The only way I can get through these visits is by being sarcastic and making jokes to myself.

And to Loomis, but he doesn’t really like me.

Probably because I make sarcastic jokes about his most dangerous patient.

Eh, oh well.

I turn back to Rachael to see her holding up her award to the window so Michael can read it, and after I lean to the left a bit to see inside the cell I see that he is doing so. He’s just sitting in his dressing gown on a desk chair at the other side of his cell- no wonder Rachael has to talk loudly!

He communicates through head shakes and nods, and sometimes even writes on a white board he always has set on his big -big mannnnnn. Oh jeez, the thirst is still strong, despite him now being an irritating part of my life… I have to get up at the ungodly hour of nine on a Sunday for this. Just to get a new stupid mask and stand back here with Doctor humourless, - lap, which I do concede, is pretty sweet. He doesn’t communicate that way to anyone else, as Loomis told me, except for with her.

Visitation usually lasts an hour and half, if Michael’s feeling ‘chatty’, And he definitely is today, so our visit bleeds into breakfast time so we join him -without a door between us and him,- for breakfast in the cafeteria. Rachael and I sit on one side and Michael and Loomis sit on the other. Mostly Rachael and I chat during this time, but Rachael looks to her father every now and then for his reaction.

“Hey mum, do you want the last pancake?” Rachael asks, eyeing the last fluffy breakfast food just as hungrily as Michael just after Dr Loomis gets up to go check quickly on another patient, leaving us as a ‘family’ for a little bit.

I pat my tummy. “Naw, I’m stuffed! Why don’t you and your dad share it.”

A little smile breaks across her little face, making me grin too. She’s so cute! She’ll always be cute, I don’t know if she’s 37, a pasty scientist and mildly mangled from experiments gone wrong, she’ll still be adorable. I’m sure Michael agrees. “Okay!”

As she goes off to get the pancake, I leap to take the chance alone to have a chat with Michael myself.

Or attack him.

Placing my elbow securely on the table between us, pointing at him, I squint. “Stop making her masks, Michael! Anything else, really!- We’ve had this talk before, multiple times. You know I have no wall space!”

He shoulders jump, like he silently chuckled at me, and my squint-greasy, just enhances.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

After a moment, he veeeeery purposefully shrugs those huge shoulders of his. He does know, he does. I knew it!

“Ooooooooh… “I nearly shake with annoyance, returning to my seat properly and glaring I hope subtly from my side of the table as Rachael returns and carefully tears the pancake in half for them. As she does, I watch and just sit and take great pleasure in the fact that they wont even trust plastic knives around Michael. Ha!

He see’s the too-happy glint in my eye and drinks all my juice.

Damn him.