Hope you enjoy, cya in the fog! ~ Cammie :D

The darkness crumbled as the scene was set; revealing a long, lonely street.

Where was this you ask?

Haddonfield, Illinois.

More specifically, the street in which the Strode residence was built on.

But the street wasn't actually real.

The Entity had created it, and had taken control of Michael Myers; so the legendary killer could feed him souls.

The killer was very much aware of this, but didn't mind killing people. He felt no emotion, he didn't care.

Or at least that's what he thought.

"Dwight! Stop messing up the generator!" Meg - his ex girlfriend - hissed irritatedly to the bumbling male.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm not doing this on purpose." Dwight apologised nervously, feeling embarrassed.

Why was he such a fuck up?

"Honestly you always do this. I don't know why the others tried so hard to get you off the hook last time." She huffed hurtfully and he hung his head.

"I...I..." Dwight couldn't find any words; he'd always sucked at socialising but he didn't know how to respond.

" 'I-I-I' Jesus, I can't believe I dated a loser like you. I hope the Entity takes your soul." The corners of Meg's mouth curled up triumphantly as she kept bullying him.

His face burnt with embarrassment and he felt a heavy lump in his throat.

Standing a mile away, the infamous Myers watched them intently from the street as they worked on a roof generator.

"Great, the killer's stalking us." Meg rolled her eyes and they both stopped working.

"Say Dwight, why don't you be useful for once?" She asked sweetly, grabbing the dark-haired male by his tie.

"S-Sure, what should I do?" Dwight agreed helpfully.

"Die, because you're not helpful to us at all." Meg said flatly, shoving him off the roof and releasing him from her grip.

"M-Meg-!" He yelled, his head hitting the tough pavement first.

Dwight saw the killer eyeing him emotionlessly and felt blood trickling down his forehead.

He's gotta move or he'll be fresh food for the Entity!

Gathering the last of his strength, Dwight stood up wobbly and started to hobble away.

Why would Meg betray him like that?

He knew he was a wuss and fucked up, but still; he was a person, wasn't he?

His vision blurred and he started to hallucinate - the shock and pain of the fall beginning to affect him.

"I'm sorry I'm so useless, don't kill me guys please!" He pleaded miserably, talking to ghostly figures of his fellow survivors.

"Why would we want a screw up like you?" Quiet Claudette questioned.

"You're only slowing us down Dwhine." Nea mocked.

"Dude we don't need you." Jake pointed out casually.

Michael stood there - slightly bemused as to why this survivor was talking to thin air.

Suddenly Dwight whirled around and saw the white-masked killer looking at him.

"Just kill me okay?! I know I'm a mess up. I know that everyone hates me. Just...kill me already." Dwight sobbed tiredly as he fell to his knees, his eyes glittering with tears behind his thin-rimmed glasses.

Michael took a few steps towards him - to see if he truly meant it - and Dwight didn't move; only gazing at the killer with tearful eyes.

The atmosphere thickened, the two of them alone in the middle of the street.

Pity.

For once in his life, Michael Myers felt pity for the awkward young adult, so he slung Dwight over his shoulder.

"H-Hey! What are you doing?! Kill me! I know you have a Ivory Memento Mori!" Dwight bursted out, actually hoping for death.

His mouth popped open in a huge o when the killer shook his head stubbornly.

Why couldn't the killer kill him?

Was he too pathetic or something?

Michael carried the confused survivor into the Strode house and upstairs into a small room; before setting him down against the wall.

"I don't understand." Dwight said blankly.

Michael just stood there, a grin hidden underneath his mask.

What should he do with his adorable little pet?

Dwight tried to stand up but fell down dizzily in shock as Michael pretended to take a stab at him.

"What do you want from me...?" Dwight whispered, afraid.

Michael didn't say anything, only bending down to get a better look at the shaking male.

As he was inspecting Dwight, he felt something strange whilst looking at him...something he'd never felt before.

Shaking it off, Michael wondered why the shy boy was crying earlier. But he didn't want to talk, and there was no paper around.

So instead he carved his question into the wooden floor.

"Why were you crying?" Dwight read aloud and took a few seconds to answer.

"I always mess up the generators, I'm not good at sabotaging hooks, I can't run away from the killers. I can't do anything right." He decided to confide in the quiet killer, crying a little.

Michael felt more sympathy, and made his knife tilt Dwight's chin up before using his hand to wipe the trail of tears off of his cheeks.

Dwight's cheeks grew pink, causing a throaty chuckle to come from Michael.

"The other survivors want me to get killed, and I agree with them." Dwight continued sorrowfully, hugging his knees.

Then Michael suddenly felt rage, uncontrollable and fierce.

He placed a rough hand on Dwight's face and caressed his cheek, shaking his head.

Dwight was astonished, but rather grateful that someone disagreed, although be it the killer.

"So you...don't want to kill me?" He questioned curiously, wiping off the remaining tears with his dirtied wrist.

Dwight breathed out lightly as Michael shook his head again and ruffled Dwight's neat dark hair playfully.

"H-Hey, you're going to mess up my hair." Dwight smiled shyly as he tried to fix it.

Michael seized ahold of Dwight's tie and pushed his lips against the young man, feeling an odd desire.

Dwight's face burnt but he returned the kiss gently, not feeling useless for once.

Finding solace in a killer, what had life come to?

Mischievously, Michael messed up Dwight's hair again; causing the survivor to break the kiss and laugh.

"Stop being so mean." Dwight chuckled, punching Michael in the side childishly.

Michael gave him a look that said: I'm literally a serial killer.

"I get your point." Dwight said, just happy that someone likes him-no...loves him.

Out of nowhere Michael stole Dwight's glasses away from him, deciding to be even more childish.

"Nooooo, give them back!" Dwight whined cutely, as he realised he couldn't see.

Blinking rapidly; Dwight stood up and tried to reach for them - but Michael held them over his head.

"This...is...obnoxious!" Dwight panted breathlessly.

Michael's smirk grew, seeing how cute his little survivor was.

"Give it back? Pretty please?" Dwight begged, giving Michael the puppy eyes.

The strong killer grabbed Dwight's chin with one hand, and with the other, placed his glasses back on.

"Thank you." Dwight gave another sweet smile and Michael kissed him on the forehead meaning; You're welcome <3 .