*Quick A/N: Re-Publishing just to fix Michael's part, seeing as I didn't like the whole 'homeless letting in' plot-line*

Michael Myers:
"Oh come on (Y/n), if you don't try and hook up with someone, you'll never get a boyfriend!" Annie exclaimed, walking out of school with you.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm just trying to finish my studies, get a job and be able to support myself." You answered honestly, your sensible thinking causing her to groan.

"I can see why you scare boys off. Just like Laurie." Lynda joined in and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I do not scare boys off!" Laurie protested in amusement as you all giggled.

"You two need to join the cheerleading team; I can hook you two up. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I've got Bob, Annie's got Paul - you two need some hotties in your life." Lynda persisted lightly, making you suppress a sigh.

"I just don't see the appeal of having a boyfriend who just wants to get into my pants. I'm waiting for someone who likes my interests, and likes me for who I am." You dismissed her reply.

"What, a nerdy, quiet girl with no sense of fun? Let me guess, you're still a virgin." Annie poked fun at you and your cheeks reddened.

"Hey Annie, that wasn't funny. So what if (Y/n) has different opinions?" Laurie sided with you, holding her pile of books close to her chest.

"Laurie, she has a point. (Y/n) never tries, so it's no wonder no one approaches her. This isn't a fucking fairytale." Lynda snorted sarcastically, as she flicked her hair back.

"Can we just switch topic? Who cares about my love life? Worry about your own relationship for once - like Bob Simms, who only hooked up with you because he got dumped." You sassily retaliated; tired of her pestering.

"No, he hooked up with me because I'm a hot, attractive, party girl - with big tits and a nice ass. I'm sorry that you have none of those." Lynda was offended and bit back with force.

"Guys, c'mon-" Laurie tried to stop the argument, but you were too irritated - even stopping in the middle of the pavement. Now you'd just finished several difficult tests, along with looking for a job and quite frankly, you'd had enough of Lynda's bitchy persona.

"I am sooooo sick and tired of your I'm-So-Fucking-Great attitude! Get your big fucking nose out of my life and focus on your failing grades, you blonde bimbo bitch!" You exploded bitterly as you flounced off.

"(Y/n) come back!" Annie called, feeling a tad guilty.

"Yeah you'd better piss off, you fucking stiff!" Lynda yelled after you, even going as far as to throw her empty can of beer at you.

"Lynda!" Laurie gasped and bit her lip when it hit you.

"Oh real pleasant of you Lynda! This is probably why your parents divorced!" You bursted out savagely, kicking the can back in her direction.

You knew talking about the touchy divorce was a low strike, but at this point you were sweating hot, angry, and hurt by her childish responses. She gave you the middle finger and took off the other way, talking shit to Annie on her route home. Laurie hesitated but then came to your side, holding her books as she joined you.

"I'm sorry about Lynda and Annie. They...They really like boys. I don't know why they're so hot and bothered about it to be honest. But we've been friends for a long time, so I put up with it." She explains ruefully and you huffed.

"And I'm the weird transfer that no one likes, I know I know." You muttered, realising how different you were.

"Hey, I like you. You enjoy reading like I do and you're not a hormone-driven slut." Laurie tried cheering you up; her attempt calming you down slightly.

"Thanks Laurie. You're like, my only friend here." You chuckled dryly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"One is lonely, two is company and three is a crowd." She quoted smoothly, grinning.

"Couldn't say it better myself." You agreed and took a sip of your water to properly cool off. As you put your water bottle back in your bag, you spotted a man staring at you from across the street. He wore a pale mask and a cobalt boiler suit, his attire slightly intimidating.

"Hey Laurie...do you see that guy? Why is he just...staring at us?" You were creeped out, nudging the blonde-haired girl.

"I...I have no idea. Maybe he's your new boyfriend." Laurie slyly joked, and you shoved her.

"Laurie!" You moaned in defeat, never getting away from the boyfriend-talk.

You two tried to ignore the strange male and walked home, giggling and engaging in different subjects. Unbeknownst to you, the stalker was the notorious Michael Myers; ready to kill his last remaining sibling. Cynthia Myers. But he was interested by you, especially after seeing the mini fight erupt with the other girl. He wanted to stalk you as well as his younger sister, devising a plan to come after you also; being intrigued by your seemingly unique personality.

Michael kept watching you both, his eyes flickering to your body more often than Cynthia. Your sweet-looking orbs, your kind expression and relaxed posture gave you a tender-like vibe; your hasty temper amusing to him. He started learning more about you; where you lived, how you lived with your older brother, what books you enjoyed, etc etc. He made a quick note of this - his stalkerish personality capturing it automatically.

"See you tomorrow Laurie." He heard you say in a light voice, watching you embrace her. A weird feeling was trapped inside of him, almost like the intense rage he sometimes felt in his empty void of a heart.

This feeling was tugging at him to keep following you, to abandon his urge to kill Cynthia and instead stalk you. "Bye (Y/n)." His sister waved and hurried off, obviously being late for something.

Although he wanted to follow this new instinct, Michael brushed it off; knowing he had to kill Cynthia first. After that, then he would pursue you. But to wipe out or to keep, now that was the question. Back at home, you entered the house and saw your brother slouched on the sofa; half-drunk. Cans and takeaway boxes littered the floor, causing you to let out a frustrated sound.

"Miles, can't you clean up at least once? I live here too! We can't rely on dad's income forever, and I can't get a job until next month!" You vented irritably, making your way through the mess.

"Welcome...home...sis." He slurred tipsily.

"Jesus Christ, Miles! We're running low on money you ass, so lay off the fucking alcohol, okay!?" You demanded as you dumped your bag by the stairs.

You went into the kitchen to grab an apple and jumped when the phone on the wall rang loudly. "Turn that...thing...off..." Miles mumbled, turning over.

"Hello?" You snapped into the phone rather rudely as your temper rose.

"It's Annie, is this a bad time?" Annie's voice floated out, apologetic.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry, family shit. Hey Annie." You responded awkwardly, and threw a scornful look towards your half-asleep sibling.

"I just wanted to say sorry. I started the whole boyfriend thing and it's not bad that you're waiting for the right guy. Forgive me?" She apologised nicely.

You felt like Laurie had talked to her but you forced your pride down and decided to forgive her, wanting to be a chill person. "Yeah, sure. Don't worry about it. Things got out of hand. I don't blame you for it." You kindly told her, not wanting to really talk.

"Thanks (Y/n). Hey, I have to go meet up with Paul, talk to you tomorrow?" Annie reverted back to her gushy, boyfriend-absorbed self and so you held back a sarcastic retort.

"Yeah. Cya Annie." You said goodbye before hanging up, sighing when you saw the mess still. "Miles, I'm going upstairs to study. There's some sandwiches in the fridge if you're hungry." You were generous towards your brother; even if he slightly drunk.

"Cool...beans..." He sleepily replied, almost completely out-of-it.

You rolled your eyes; grabbing the apple and your bag before going to your room. Sitting at your desk, you took out your textbooks and switched some music on, taking a bite out of the apple. You plugged your earphones into the music so you wouldn't have your brother yelling at you and started to study, focused on getting good grades.

Michael had finished stalking Cynthia, unable to keep himself away from you any longer as he made his way to your house, ready to see you. Forcing his way through the backdoor, he saw your brother draped on the couch; drunkenly unconscious. Michael's tall frame loomed over the sleeping male, his trusty kitchen knife in his grasp. He could kill this man. Right now. But he wasn't here to take out this sorry excuse for a human; he was here to see you.

He crept expertly up the stairs and found your room, pushing the door open a crack. His heart glowed as he saw you sitting there; completely unaware of his presence. For some reason, watching you was very calming to Michael - even making him forget his rage. Seeing you hum to the music and work, it made him want to wrap his arms around you and forget what his plan was completely. He shook his head - getting too distracted by you - and left, picking up a photograph of you before he went.

You stifled a yawn as you finished up studying, throwing the now-finished apple core into the bin and shutting your books. It was 11pm, and if you didn't go to sleep now, you wouldn't be able to get up in the morning. Stopping in your tracks, you did a double take at your bedside table; where was the picture of you and your mother? Had it fallen down? You checked around the floor, praying it hadn't broken.

"Miles? Have you seen the photo of me and mom?" You called down the stairs, and tried not to grow pissed-off at his lack of reply. So. Freaking. Helpful! Going back into your room, you went to close your curtains and froze when you saw someone staring at you from below, their expression emotionless.

It was the same guy from earlier! You opened your window and leant on your hands, gazing down at him curiously. "Can I uh, help you?" You questioned in amusement, your voice reaching the stalking male. "Or is stalking girls from beneath their windows a new strategy you're working on?"

After receiving no response, you casually carried on the conversation - wanting to know why he was standing there. "Because I mean, if so, it's turning out to be a terrible strategy."

Confusion filled your thoughts when he merely tilted his head - his behaviour throwing you off completely. "Okay, well, this has been an extremely entertaining chat, but I'm going to have to call it a night. Studying until late isn't exactly my cup of tea, y'know." You raised your hand as a soft wave and then closed your window; pulling your curtains shut afterwards.

Trying to forget about your new stalker, you slipped into your pyjamas and got ready for bed - brushing your teeth before climbing into bed. "I hope that pale-faced stalker doesn't try anything." You murmured sleepily, flicking off the lamp on your bedside table and then comfortably snuggling down.

Your eyelashes fluttered shut whilst you slowly descended into the depths of sleep; reality fading away as the dreamworld took control of your thoughts and mind instead. The real world...it wasn't as great as people made it out to be. It took away your mother. You hardly saw your father. It made your brother turn to drugs. And it forced you to take on the housework - not to mention keep up with your studies. Clutching the bedsheets, you released a sigh of tiredness; glad you could finally rest in peace. Unfortunately, you weren't allowed that luxury.

Why? Because a rough hand slowly ran through your hair and ended up cradling the side of your right cheek; the strangely intimate actions causing your eyes to shoot open with shock. The-The white-masked man-! How...How did he get into your house— No, into your bedroom, without any noise whatsoever!? A gasp slipped through your lips before you could stop it - your body moving on its own as you attempted to climb out of bed and planned to bolt towards the door. This guy was ridiculously more intimidating up close, after all.

"How...How did you...?" The volume of your voice was barely above a whisper; your casual attitude from earlier dying out completely. "How did you get in here...?"

After you stood up straight, he held up a gleaming knife and stunned you into total silence - freaking you out further as you decided to just make a run for it. But you weren't quick enough and so he pinned you against your bedroom wall; his hand tightly curled around your neck. Fuck.

Jason Voorhees:
"You're not going!" Your mother harshly denied, and you rolled your eyes at her.

"Why not? Vanessa, Tiff and Debbie are going!" You responded irritably, holding back your temper.

"Wherever tragedies happen-"

"-they always spell trouble further on in the future, blah blah, I know, I know." You finished her stupid quote as you wanted to convince her.

Your other friends; Vanessa, Deborah and Tiffany were going to Camp Crystal Lake to train to be Counsellors - and you wanted to as well! Your mother of course wanted you to stay, but what does she know?

"Look, Kenny Riedell is coming too - hell he can keep an eye on us if we get out of hand. He's even the Head Counsellor. Come on mother." You pleaded and begged with all of your might, making her sigh.

"Fine. But if anything goes wrong text me - don't make me regret agreeing to this." She protectively agreed, her face set into a stern look.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You squealed happily and hugged her before running to pack.

Shoving random clothes and other necessities into your bag, you grabbed your phone and dialled in Tiffany's number; wanting to tell her the news.

"Yo, what's up ma girl?" Her voice came from the speaker, pleased to hear from you.

"My mother just gave me permission to go! When's Chad picking us up?" You told her excitedly, almost squeeing in delight.

"That's hella dope! His jeep is meant to pick me up in around twenty minutes, I'll tell him to come to yours after he gets me." She bubbly replied and you messed with the phone wire whilst talking.

"Woohoo! Talk to you later Tiff! I gotta finish packing, freshen up a little bit and stuff."

"See you in thirty minutes tops, boo!" You giggled at her reply, hanging up a second later.

You finished packing soon after and then zipped your bag, slipping it over your shoulder as you looked around. Nope, you'd gotten everything you needed. You tried to entertain yourself, and then raced down the stairs when a knock at the door sounded.

"Tiff!"

"(Y/n)!"

You both hugged each other, very excited for this weekend's camp trip. Your mother stood to the side, her arms folded as she gave you a serious look.

"Don't worry Mrs (L/n), there's going to be no alcohol, no drugs, no illegal substances - we're just going to train and have fun!" Tiffany played along brightly, making your mother smile.

"Oh I see. Have fun girls." Your mother perked up, partly happy for you now.

"Bye mother! I love you." You pecked her on the cheek before leaving with Tiffany, waving as you climbed into the car.

"Nice lie. Whose car is the beer cooler in?" You remarked dryly; knowing about Tiff's drinking habits.

"Oh come on, she totally bought it! I'm a pretty good actress when I want to be." She nudged you mischievously.

"Tonight's gonna be one hell of a night. I heard Bugzy's even got a horror story to tell around the campfire." Chad said from the front seat, grinning.

"Dude, when I texted him telling him that your mother said you could come, Brandon grew so excited - I shit you not." Tiff spoke to you slyly, and you raised your eyebrows.

"Seriously? He's a jock, I have my own types and no offence, but I don't like him. Vanessa likes him though - we could hook them up." You suggested as you gently rebuffed the jovial jock.

"We totally should. Anyway, I have my eyes set on Kenny." Tiffany told you guys with a happy gleam in her eyes.

"So we got you and Kenny, Vanessa and Bugzy, we should pair everyone up." You planned deviously.

"Hells to the yes!" Tiff agreed, hyped.

You two kept chattering - with Chad chiming in occasionally - whilst you picked up two others; Vanessa Jones and Adam Palomino. Time passed and eventually you all made it. To Camp Crystal Lake.

"Hey everyone!" You bounded out of the car and towards the rest of the group, smiling.

"Hi."
"Hey (Y/n)!"
"Nice to see ya."
"Good to see you!"
"You finally arrived."

"U-Uh hey (Y/n). How's it going?" Bugzy, aka Brandon, greeted you with a warm smile.

"Hi Bugzy. It's going good, how are you?" You awkwardly replied, forcing a smile back.

"Great! Y'know, it's just really cool you could come. Tonight's gonna be much more fun now that you're here." He, sweetly, said as you sent your friends a look.

Brandon was a sweetheart even if he was a typical jock; but you just didn't feel anything for him. However, you still appreciated how hard he tried, so you couldn't be mean or hurtful towards him.

"That's so sweet, aww." You felt happy at the compliment and then Tiff grabbed your arm.

"Let's go find our cabin!" She pulled you away, letting you breathe.

"Thanks Tiff. He's so nice, but I can't reject him. It's like an evil reality." You complained to her.

"I know - you're too kind. Come on." Tiffany tugged you towards the furthest cabin.

It was closest to the lake, and you were literally taken away by it's beauty. The water was glimmering from the sun, causing the lake to be tinted a glowing gold and creating a beautiful view.

"Wow...you really don't get a view like this very often." You breathed out softly, and she snorted.

"Dude it's a lake, get over it. Focus your attention on the hella cute boys." Tiff winked as you both entered the cabin.

A good few yards away stood a male; dressed up in raggedy clothes and a dirty hockey mask. He gripped a machete, intensely watching the you two. The man heard your compliment towards the lake and cocked his head, almost confused. Not many people praised this place - but it didn't matter, because once people enter Camp Crystal Lake, they don't leave. All who trespass here must die. Mother told him so.

That's right my special, special boy. You must kill every last one of them.

He nodded, his mother's voice echoing around his twisted, child-like mind as he went to stalk the others. The weapon-wielding male began to watch the rest of teenagers, whom were setting up a campfire. This killer decided to attack whilst they were by the fire; wanting to use the feisty flames as a unique killing method.

"Hurry up (Y/n)! They've probably decided to start partying without us!" Tiffany groaned, waiting for you by the door.

It had taken around three or four hours to arrive at Camp Crystal Lake and you wanted to change, the heat giving you even more incentive to do so. You skipped to the door wearing a black blouse, faded red shorts and black vans, wanting to be casual yet classy.

"You look...awesome." Tiff was more into the revealing side of clothes, so she was trying her best to compliment your safe choice.

She was wearing a one-shoulder, pink crop top with denim shorts and blue trainers; going for a flirty look. You smiled at her as a thanks and opened the door, motioning her to go first. Making your way over to the others, you saw dusk approaching - the early night stars twinkling whilst the sun was setting.

"We thought you guys were never coming!" Kenny mocked lightheartedly, sitting on a log.

"Believe me, I didn't know if (Y/n) was ever coming out of her room." Tiff sided with him, giving a smirk.

"Haha, so funny." You rolled your eyes and went to sit on a camping chair.

"Gather round everyone!" Chad commanded charmingly as he waited for everyone to sit.

"Can we like, begin with the spooky story please?" A. J. messed with her dark locks, which had purple-pink streaks in.

"Everyone else agree with that?" Chad looked around for any disagreement, and then nodded.

"Bugzy? Wanna start?" He grinned at the jock who nodded enthusiastically.

"Hell yeah. This story starts at this camp, where a disfigured boy named Jason Voorhees drowned here." Bugzy began, purposely putting on a spooky voice.

Tiff, Adam, Eric, Vanessa and Kenny all grabbed cans of beer from the cooler, whilst the rest of you remained alcohol-free. Chad, Debbie and A.J were drinking soda, and Jenny was eating some crisps. You and Bugzy were the only people not eating or drinking, Bugzy too excited to tell the story.

"Wait you're saying no one helped him?" You asked in disbelief, actually feeling a flare of anger.

Your empathy expands towards everyone, so to hear that a young boy had died here due to some reason pulled at your tender heartstrings, your face contorting into a frown.

"Well the two counsellors that were watching the kids at the time were having sex and screwing around. So when the kids bullied Jason and forced him into the lake, no one came to his aid when he was drowning." Bugzy responded darkly.

"That's awful." You mumbled and hugged your knees up against your chest.

"They were fucking on the job?" Tiff snickered, finding it partly funny.

"Tiff!" Jenny snapped as you glared at the party girl.

Just because she'd already had some drinks and was a lightweight didn't mean she could poke fun at this tragic tale. What was she thinking?!

"So anyway," Bugzy coughed, trying to break up the small squabble, "-his mother, Pamela Voorhees, started to kill anyone who came here. The last counsellor, Alice Hardy, grabbed a machete and decapitated the psychotic woman. Jason - who turned out to still be alive - tracked Alice down and murdered her, before returning to Camp Crystal Lake."

"This is like, so tragic. I love it." A. J. quietly spoke, her rocker-chick personality causing her to enjoy dark stories.

"Legend has it that Jason Voorhees continues to patrol the camp, ready to kill any trespassers that come here." Bugzy finished dramatically, and started to make creepy sounds.

"That's a load of bullshit." Eric rejected the story at once, gulping down his beer.

"Well duh, it's a story." Jenny shot back smartly.

"Why does Jason think we're trespassers? The authorities have declared this camp as open, so we're not trespassing." You asked Bugzy as your curiosity bubbled.

"You're talking about him like he's alive..." Debbie piped up lightly, sipping her lemonade.

"Wherever tragedies happen, they always spell trouble further on in the future." You echoed your mother solemnly.

"That's a...unique perspective." Chad tried to calm the situation down and you shot him a scornful look.

He didn't need to be some kind of saint and to be honest, it was really fucking irritating.

"It's a story - who knows why he protects the camp from everyone? He's presumably a complete psychopath." Bugzy answered you.

"I think it's sad. He drowned, then lost his mother, and now he's roaming the lake looking for trespassers - which he doesn't know are innocent people." You seriously summed up, stating your opinion.

"You're taking this way too seriously (Y/n), he's not even real!" Tiffany slurred, sarcasm flowing from her tone as she finished her drink.

As if on cue, someone yanked her up by her hair and flung her towards the ground, dangerously close to the fire.

"Hey! How dare you-" Chad's voice died out when he saw who he was talking to.

"If this is a joke it's not funny!" Kenny shouted, assuming it was someone pretending.

Pretending to be who, you ask? Jason Voorhees. He seized Tiff by the neck and shoved her head straight into the fire; burning her alive. You were in a shocked state; not being able to believe it. This was him. This was the real Jason Voorhees. And he was going to kill you all.

Freddy Krueger:
"(Y/n)! (Y/n)!" Someone shook you awake in alarm and you made a sleepy sound back at them.

"What is it Sara?" You responded tiredly, replying to your little sister.

"It's Brittany! She's having another nightmare!" Sara nervously exclaimed, as you sat up.

Brittany was your older sister, whilst Sara was only seven years old. You were the middle sibling; (Y/a). Brittany worked as a model for daily income whilst you looked after Sara and went to high school at the same time. It wasn't exactly a normal, happy family, but the three of you made it work.

"I'll see what I can do." You tried to console your younger sister, getting up and going straight to Brittany's room.

The blonde-haired girl was thrashing around wildly, her expression a state of panic as she screamed. Your eyes widened and you went straight to her side, starting to shake her.

"Brit, Brit! Wake up! It's not real, it's not real!" You called tensely.

Your efforts were in vain - as usual, for this was the fourth time this week - so you tried your second tactic; Brittany's favourite lullaby from when she was a kid.

"From your head down to your toes
You're not much, goodness knows.
But you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be,
Baby of mine." You sung sweetly, soothing Sara a little - who was still by your side.

In the dream realm, Brittany was being terrorised by spiders and attacked by the nightmare King himself; Freddy Krueger.

"NOOOOO! Get them off me, get them off me!" Brittany sobbed in distress, feeling the arachnids crawl all over her.

Thick, slimy webs were holding her down to the floor and she was absolutely beside herself, her fear level over 9000. This gave the demon huge power over her as he sliced at her skin, smug.

Out of nowhere came the lullaby, causing Brittany to be distracted from the spider danger and her sobs to be quietened. Freddy was in disbelief - listening to the lullaby with angry confusion. Where the fuck was it coming from?

You switched song - worried that it wasn't working - and started stroking her hair, trying to be comforting.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, Brown paper packages tied up with strings, These are a few of my favorite things." You hummed softly, your beautiful voice making Brittany pay more and more attention to it.

You gave her skin a gentle pinch and her eyes flew open, her breathing jagged as she started to cry again.

"Brit! Shh, shh, it's okay." You brought the hysterical girl into a hug, rocking her back and forth slightly.

"I'll make some hot chocolate, just like you showed me sis." Sara told you helpfully before running out of the room.

"It was him, it was him again! I'm telling you, he's not just my imagination!" Brit wept, her eyes brimmed with exhausted tears.

"Oh my god, your arms." You gasped - seeing the long slashes from her shoulders to her wrists.

Blood was slithering down her skin, the scarlet substance staining the covers as you took in the worrying display. You half-supported, half-dragged her to the bathroom and snatched up the medkit; panicking about her condition. If you didn't clean her wounds she could get a serious infection.

"Brit I got your-" Sara came running with the hot drink and screamed at all the blood, dropping the hot chocolate.

"Oh Sara!" You sighed in exasperation, seeing the shattered pieces of the mug scattered across the floor.

"Don't come any closer!" You snapped, feeling bad as she flinched from your tone.

"I don't want you to get hurt from the shards. Why don't you get into bed and when I'm done with Brittany I'll read you a bedtime story?" You offered, stifling a yawn when you saw the time.

2am. A rather late bedtime story then.

"Okay!" Sara beamed and took off back to her bedroom.

"I'm sorry (Y/n), I'm the oldest but you're having to take care of both of us. I'm a failure." Brittany whimpered, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Brit, don't say that! You bring in money for us since mother and father died, and you do an excellent job. It's hard to raise two siblings by yourself - I don't mind helping out." You kindly replied, washing out her wounds.

"I love you (Y/n)." Brittany smiled weakly.

"I love you too." You told her in return as you continued to care for her injuries.

After cleaning her wounds out, you wrapped them in gauze and then rewrapped them with bandages; making sure it was firm but not too tight. You helped Brittany around the broken shards of porcelain and put her back to bed, not expecting her to sleep now.

You swept up the broken mug, wiped the floor dry and then went to Sara's room, tired out from the dramatic series of events that had taken place tonight. She was waiting for you impatiently, holding out a book of fairytales.

"Alright Sara, what are we reading?" You stifled a yawn as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"The little mermaid, please oh please, read the little mermaid!" She begged childishly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

"Fine. Only a little though - it's terribly late." You reminded her and opened the book.

It took half an hour for Sara to actually fall asleep, and you shut the book in relief. Fairytales were really sappy and slightly irritating about their morals, thank god you can just go to sleep now...right?

The malicious dream demon watched you go to your room, a smirk spreading across his burnt features. You were the little bitch who saved his victim, huh? He certainly hadn't expected that. He didn't like how you could wake people up with that angelic voice of yours though, that needed to fucking stop. Right now.

You slipped back into bed, flicking your lampshade off and snuggling under the covers comfortably, ready to finally get some shuteye. But you couldn't have been more wrong.

Shivering, you woke up to see yourself on the ground, light rain drenching your nightgown and hair considerably. You frowned in confusion and picked yourself off the ground, bewildered as to where you were. Hadn't you just fallen asleep?

Two figures were ahead of you, but you couldn't quite make them out - the shadows covering their bodies. However, when they called out to you, you knew exactly who they were.

"Brittany! Sara! Hold on, I'm coming!" You shouted back, panicking as you raced towards them.

"You weren't there for us. You left us to die." They chanted, causing you to skid to a stop.

"What? I would never do that! You're the only family I have!" You exclaimed sincerely.

"You told us to sleep. We're dead because of YOU!" They yelled in union and you froze.

"I-I don't understand." You numbly said, shocked by their vicious outburst.

They stepped into view and you yelled in terror when you saw them. Sara's face was melting right off, whilst Brittany's was a mere skull; maggots crawling around the empty eye sockets.

"Oh my fucking god... What happened to you two? Brit, Sara..." You whispered, grieving for your poor sisters.

"YOU LET THEM FUCKING DIE!" A new voice hissed around the dark area, making you jump.

"I-I didn't mean to! How did you die? What caused this?" You asked in a strangled tone.

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you." Sara started to sing faintly, and you grew even more puzzled.

"Sara...? Who's Freddy?" You questioned as Brittany joined in.

"Three, four, Better lock your door." She chorused, her voice sending literal chills down your spine.

"Guys I don't understand!"

"Five, six, grab a crucifix."

"When did this even happen?"

"Seven, eight, Gonna stay up late."

"Who killed you?!"

"Nine, ten, Never sleep again...."

"No!" You let out a sob and backed away from them; shaken.

The floor fell from beneath you, the darkness sending you into more fits of hysteria. You cried out in pain when you slammed into the concrete ground, light flashing in your eyes as your vision blurred.

"What do we have here, hmm?" A sinister voice came from the shadows, seeing your sluggish form lying across the floor.

"Who...are...you...?" You mumbled unhappily.

"We have a little BITCH, who stole my kill before." The mysterious person ignored you as he half-snapped.

Stole his kill? What on Earth were they talking about? You sat up, rubbing the side of your head whilst trying to gather yourself.

"But that's alright, because we have a new volunteer for a victim~" He chuckled cruelly and eventually stepped out from the shadows.

Your mouth opened in complete awe after seeing his tattered appearance, his singed face striking you as very surprising. This sadistic stranger wore a red-and-green striped sweater, along with dark pants and a faded fedora, his attire oddly fashionable in a sense. On his right hand, he wielded a deadly-looking glove, with curved knives on each finger. Just what kind of person were you dealing with here?

Thorny vines broke through the stone floor, wrapping themselves around your wrists and ankles; digging into your skin darkly. An agonised cry left your lips as you got pricked painfully, all over. The unidentified male grinned greedily at your pain, scratching his knives against a metal pipe in content.

"Your cries are music to my ears. It's almost as heavenly as your pathetic little lullaby earlier." The guy actually praised your singing; although be it mockingly.

"You...heard that...?" You feebly wondered, wincing at the pain whilst you grew a little embarrassed.

You were shy to sing in front of others, so you kept your singing to a minimum - only singing in front of your sisters. Even though this man was clearly trying to hurt you, you were partly humiliated by yourself. Meanwhile, the demonic male was enjoying this time for you; but in a different way than usual.

Usually he would gain enjoyment from torturing his victims and taking their souls for himself. But with you, he seemed to be content with chatting and messing around, so he decided not to kill you yet. With a snap of his fingers the vicious vines uncoiled from your body and you fell back to the floor, shaking and twitching from the jolting waves of agony.

"Why are you doing this? What the fuck did I ever do to you?" You spat at him, shaken as you staggered to your feet.

"Hey I just released you, you should be grateful." He cooed in amusement, liking your sudden feisty attitude.

"Grateful? Grateful?!" You repeated fiercely, stumbling a little as you tried to back away.

"You just attacked me, you tried to kill me, I don't even know you, and you expect me to be grateful?" Your panic had made way for anger, and now you just wanted to escape this guy.

You wanted to get back to your sisters, make sure they were 100% okay because this nightmare had twisted your sense of reality to the point where you didn't know what was going on anymore. In fact, you spun around and ran away, limping slightly due to your injuries. If you can get distance on this fucker then you can go find help, and you'd accept any at the moment.

He couldn't help but laugh at your thoughts, his amusement growing at your sorry excuse for escaping. But at the same time, your weakened state was very, very arousing, so he watched for a few moments before chasing.

A frightened squeak escaped your lips as an arm snaked around your waist, yanking you to a sudden stop and preventing you from moving. His blades traced your collarbone, creating minor cuts and scarring your neck with ease.

"The name's Freddy Krueger, doll." The dream demon introduced himself to you seductively, his face extremely close to yours.

He ran his tongue up your cheek - licking you - and you yelped loudly; waking yourself up and leaving the demonic male behind.

Pennywise:
Rain hammered down from the clouded sky, the wind angrily slamming against trees or whatever it could find. You didn't even have an umbrella, but you were sitting on the curb; softly crying.

Ever since your papa had died, your mama had grown more and more angry, turning to alcohol and lashing out at you. At the present time, she had forced you outside to get drenched in the pouring rain - a dark punishment for something you don't even remember doing. And yet you endured it, not telling anyone about her abusive parenting.

So that's how you ended up on the curb, clutching nothing but a small teddy bear. No one was outside, so your day had been a very lonely and quiet one so far. At least it couldn't get much worse.

"Hi there." A child-like voice caught your attention, and you looked up to see a very peculiar looking person.

He was dressed up in a dirty, cream-coloured clown outfit, with three faded, red pom-poms attached to the front of his garment. His face was pale white and he had tufts of bright orange hair, along with a scarlet nose. No doubt about it, this was a clown. And you were intensely afraid of clowns.

You kept quiet, avoiding his gaze as you tightened your grip on your teddy bear, not wanting to talk to this stranger.

"Don't ya know it's rude to ignore someone girlie?" The creepy clown asked deviously, amused by your silent state.

"Mama told me not to talk to strangers. A-And clowns scare me." You mumbled and still didn't look at him.

"Do you listen to mama all the time? What are you even doing on the curb?" His taunting tone became curious as he noticed how soaked you were.

"Mama told me to sit out here until I catch a cold. So here I am." You answered unhappily.

The clown was sent into a spiral of confusion; what parent sends their child into the heavy rain as a punishment? But he supposed it didn't matter to him, he only wanted your soul.

"Do you want a lollipop, little girl?" He brought out a swirly lollipop, hoping you'd take the bait.

"No thank you. Mama told me I wasn't allowed candy, ever." You politely replied.

"Perhaps a balloon then?" The clown switched bait, now holding a bright blue balloon.

"No, I-I'm okay. Thanks anyway." You stood up and backed away, stuttering due to your shyness.

It was a relief to have something being kind and offering you things for a change, rather than constantly punishing you, but you wanted to be left alone. The sooner you got the punishment over, the better.

"Now, now, I'm not gonna hurt you, little lollipop. Why don't you just come with me?" The clown cooed cleverly, and you took another step back.

"I don't want to." You whispered, frightened.

"But you smell so good. Ah, children do taste the best when scared~" He grinned as he showed his yellow, sharp teeth.

Your eyes widened, fear flowing within your veins whilst you flew around and took off, panicking. His amused laughter rang in your ears as you raced down the street, your breathing uneven and alarmed. You ran to your favourite hiding place; down in the woods, by a stream.

By this point, you were hyperventilating and you tried to calm down, wiping your eyes weakly. Crossing over the wide stream via stepping stones, you cried out in terror when a hand wrapped around your ankle. It tugged you towards the icy waters and you fell, choking on the flowing substance.

Thinking quick, you snatched up a sharp rock and struck at the hand - causing it to uncoil from your foot and retreat. You felt fresh tears rise to your eyes as you pulled yourself out of the small river; traumatised.

A muffled sneeze erupted from you - meaning your punishment was over - so you hurried back home, your clothes sodden and wet. You opened the front door to your home and saw your mother at the kitchen table, drinking again.

"I'm back mama. I did my punishment." You tearfully greeted, shivering.

"Good. Now go to your room, I can't...I can't stand to look at you." She slurred spitefully, downing the rest of her wine.

Once you got to your room, you realised with even more misery that you'd dropped your teddy bear, adding to your darkening despair. You changed out of your dripping-wet clothes and into pyjamas, burying your face into the bed's pillow mournfully.

"Oh papa, I miss you so. Everyone used to be so happy." You pitifully murmured, closing your eyes as you tried to fall into slumber.

That night was full of twisting and turning, unable to fall asleep due to your new cold and your unhappiness. Images of that scary clown kept popping to mind, making you whimper and hug the thin cover closer to your chest. Who was he? What was his name? And what did he want from you? It wasn't like you had any valuable possessions or anything.

You sneaked out of your bedroom - seeing your mother snoring on the sofa - and went into papa's old study, dust settled on his desk. Reaching for the shelf, several things fell down and you tensed up; hoping your mother hadn't heard. She hadn't, thank goodness.

Your fingers tightened on a particular album and you plucked the book out, going towards the desk and sitting down. This was a family album, going back to the time when you were happy. Going through it, you saw a picture where the trio of you were smiling - having been to the beach that day.

Out of nowhere the picture was splattered with blood, everyone's expression turning to one of shock and horror. Every time you flicked the page, the blood followed; drowning everything in red. The last picture in the album had the clown in, and you screamed as he ran up to the front of the photo.

"We all float down here, and you will, too. In fact, they ALL FLOAT! THEY ALL FLOAT!" The demonic clown screeched at you in glee, his face showing nothing but evil.

"What do you want from me?" You sobbed.

"I want your soul, and I want to gobble you up, yum yum yum~" He even mimed it out and you gave a shaky sigh.

"So you want to kill me? Then just do it, my life is terrible anyway. Ever since papa died and mama drinks, I've been lonely and miserable." You said defeatedly, talking to him from the photo.

"I too, am the only one of my kind on your planet." The clown thoughtfully remarked, sympathising with the loneliness.

"Kind on my planet? Wait, are you an alien?" You questioned in surprise.

"Such a childish name. Yes, I am not from Earth. I waited until you all had colonised the area, woke up and then began to feed. I have a cycle you see, wake up, feed and then hibernate for three solid decades." He explained smugly, as you looked into his glowing eyes.

"Then you...eat people...?" You anxiously asked, resulting in him nodding.

"To feed on my prey, I transform into whatever the victim fears most. Instilling this fear is the equivalent of salting meat. It makes you all much juicier; tastier even." He spilled the truth to you and then questioned himself.

Why was he telling you - a mere mortal girl - everything there was to know about him? What was it about you that made him want to continue talking and not hurt you in the slightest? Since when had he not wanted to feed?

"You're not a clown...you just transformed into one to scare me. That makes sense." You mused to yourself, letting this information sink in.

"Do you have a name? I mean, I can't just keep calling you The Clown, or It or anything." You inquired timidly.

"I had no need for names, but you may call me Pennywise." He introduced, mischief colouring his voice.

"That's a...unique name. My name's (Y/n). Plain, I know." You quietly responded as you wished you didn't have to be such a simple person.

"I think it's cute~" Pennywise disagreed, sweetening his tone considerably.

"Y-You do...?" You were bewildered; why would anyone compliment you?

No one complimented you. Not since papa was alive. You didn't have anyone to anyway.

"In fact, I-" The study door slammed open, startling you and making you drop the book.

"(Y/n), are you alright?" A female cop had burst into the room, her face concerned for your wellbeing.

"I'm fine. Who are you? Did mama let you into the house?" You were confused and a little nervous, bending to pick up the album.

"We just got a phone call about your mother abusing you. Is this true? Does mother hurt you, Hun?" She interrogated you gently, putting away her pistol for there was no danger.

"Well, mama just made me do a punishment earlier. "Go outside in the rain and catch the flu so you've learnt your lesson." " You honestly answered.

"Oh you poor thing. Can you pack your essentials please, sweetie? This home is unsuitable for a young girl like yourself." The woman straightened up, her face kind.

You nodded bashfully and went to do it, holding the album close to your chest. Who had called the authorities? Who had saved you from this mess of a home?

Carefully propping up the book, you went back to the same photo; patiently waiting for Pennywise to appear again.

"Was it you who called them?" You quietly quizzed whilst packing.

"I might've done." He popped up, a smug smile spread across his features.

"But why? I thought you were going to kill me. Why would you help me?" You were utterly bemused as you gave the clown your full attention.

"Because you needed me to." Pennywise replied sweetly, and you smiled back at him.

"Thank you." You were full of gratitude, blinking your eyes so you wouldn't burst out crying or something embarrassing like that.

"Are you almost finished, lamb?" The policewoman called from the hall lightly.

"Almost, one second!" You exclaimed, zipping up your bag.

"Hey Pennywise?" You shyly addressed him, and his golden eyes twinkled.

"Mm?" He waited for you to ask what you needed, making you feel shyer.

"Will you...be my friend? I have trouble making them and since I'm not scared of you anymore I'd like to be friends." You rushed over your words as your cheeks grew a cherry colour.

Pennywise mused over it, watching you through the portrait whilst he thought about it. Being friends with his food? Why would he even consider the possibility? But your pleading face and heavenly beauty jolted something within him.

"Very well, little lollipop, we shall try this friendship thing. Here, have some candy~" He agreed tenderly, passing a wrapped buttermint through the photo.

Hesitantly, you took it from him; surprised by how it was real. This felt like a bizarre dream - a nice one at that - and you never wanted to wake up.

"Come on (Y/n)!" The female officer chided you calmly, coming into the room.

"Coming!" You quickly said, snatching up your bag and taking the album.

You followed the woman to a police car, seeing your mother being dragged; kicking and screaming towards another one. Sliding into the backseat, you waited for the car to start and hugged the book.

"Thank you, Pennywise. I think we're going to be best friends." You whispered to the album cutely, your heart glowing with happiness.

Even though the book was closed, Pennywise could still hear you and he smiled to himself; not wanting to eat you. Instead, he was delighted to no longer be alone. For the first time, he had gained a friend, and he liked it.

Norman Bates:
Lightning flashed across the landscape, the dark clouds colliding with the night sky as the stormy evening continued, making you nervous. You were driving quite late - 2am to be precise - and you were completely exhausted. In fact, you were meant to be at your mother's by now, but heavy traffic had slowed you down.

You sped up on the gas pedal and lurched the car forwards, switching the headlights on as you did so. The raging wind along with the fierce lightning struck a tree; the humongous tree plummeting into the road. Shrieking, you swerved wildly and ended up in a dirty ditch, your car definitely broken. Shit.

You pulled out your phone and tried to dial your mother's number, but coincidentally there was no signal. What were you meant to do now? The answer that came to mind was to keep walking and find a place with a phone; so you could tell your mother what happened. Then find a place to stay.

Getting your luggage out of the car, you dragged your suitcase behind you as you walked beside the lonely road. Not many people were driving at this time of night, so you weren't going to get hitch hiked anytime soon. You sighed and kept moving, opening your umbrella up just before it began to rain.

Raindrops danced on the top of your umbrella as you searched for any open buildings; a bar, a hotel, a bed-and-breakfast, anything. Eventually, you spotted a cozy, little motel at the end of the road and your expression brightened. B a t e s M o t e l. Huh.

Hopefully they'd let you use the phone there, and maybe let you stay for the night if you were lucky enough. Quickening your pace, you reached the front doors and breathed a sigh of relief when they were still open, letting yourself in a second later.

"Hello...?" You tentatively called, looking around the pleasant lobby area.

A small while passed before a teenage boy appeared, his neat brown hair and big teal eyes making him seem kind and natural. Pink spread across his cheeks like wildfire as he saw you, his personality shy.

"W-Welcome to B-Bates Motel." He stuttered whilst you came closer to the counter, and you smiled.

"Hey there. My car broke down a few miles down and I was wondering if you had a phone I could use to call my mother?" You inquired politely.

"I-I'm dreadfully s-sorry, but o-our phone l-lines are down a-at the m-moment. W-Would y-you like a r-room?" The boy sounded really regretful, his face nervous.

"Seems as though I don't have any other options. How much for one night?" You laughed a little as you tried to laugh it off.

Because as disappointed as you were, you felt bad for the timid male, so you pretended like it didn't bother you in the slightest. How odd that their phone lines seemed to be down though...

"$45 f-for one n-night. Oh, b-but I couldn't c-charge you." He grew even shier, which you found utterly adorable.

"And why ever not? I am a customer, aren't I?" You innocently teased, and he gave a shaky smile.

"B-Because you're o-only here b-by accident; i-it wouldn't b-be fair." He responded anxiously.

"That's just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes. Besides, this place seems very pleasant, so I don't mind paying to stay. Please don't give me any favoritism over this." You said gently, opening your purse.

"What's your name? Mine's (Y/n), it's very nice to meet you." You added, smiling as you handed over the correct cash.

"N-Norman. Norman B-Bates." Norman introduced himself bashfully.

"Norman, what a cute name." You cheerily complimented, causing his cheeks to darken further.

"O-Oh no, (Y-Y/n) is w-way cuter." He denied, flustered.

"Is not."

"I-Is too."

"Is not!"

"I-Is too!"

"I give up. I can't compete with a cute boy like you." You cheekily winked and he was stunned.

"Y-You...You t-think I'm...c-cute...?" Norman stammered, flattered by your praise.

"Most definitely. I mean I'd go on about it but I think I'm embarrassing you." You giggled as you signed into the check-in book.

"I-I'm n-not embarrassed...just s-surprised." He remarked awkwardly.

"Don't many people compliment you Norman?" You quizzed, curious.

"N-Not really. I-I don't know i-if you've n-noticed, b-but I'm kind of s-shy." Norman quietly admitted, taking the pen back from you.

"I noticed, and that's quite alright. Everyone gets nervous." You said warmly, and he nodded.

"Mhmm." He dipped his head, still smiling.

Although Norman had just met you, he already liked how kind and respectful you were; immediately getting attached. He usually got mocked for his stuttering, along with his unmanly-like appearance - but here you were, complimenting and talking to him like he was normal.

"Now that we know each other, would you mind showing me to my room? I'd go by myself but I've just driven six hours and I'd really enjoy the company." You hoped he would come with you, because Norman seemed like a really sweet boy.

"I-I'd love t-to. This w-way." He brightened up and exited the counter, going to stand by you.

"How old are you Norman? You look like you still go to high school." You joked around a little, letting him take your luggage.

"I-I'm 22. I-I finished c-college a y-year ago." Norman replied hesitantly, motioning for you to follow him.

"Oh I see. I'm (Y/a), and I was just heading up to my mother's flower shop. She's a florist and she offered me a job there." You told him a bit about your plans happily.

"T-That sounds r-really lovely. I-I'm sorry y-your c-car broke down." He earnestly listened as you both walked down a silent hallway.

"Hey no worries. It gives me the excuse to stay in an awesome motel." You grinned playfully, gazing around whilst you walked.

"Y-You're too k-kind." Norman was blushing again.

Your smile widened at that and you began to hum under your breath; not realising that you were doing so. Norman stopped outside a room, fumbling in his pockets for something as you patiently waited.

"H-Here you go. R-Room 13." He passed you a small, silver key; the room number printed on the label.

"Thank you very much Norman." You thanked him gratefully, going inside.

The room was quite large; he had given you the biggest one in the hotel without charging you any extra for it. The walls were a light periwinkle and the carpet a soft grey, whilst the curtains were a darkened yellow.

There was a double bed with two fluffy pillows and a white duvet, the end of the bed concealed by a leaf-patterned cover. Opposite the bed was a mahogany set of drawers with a small tv on top, and a lamp. Towards the back of the room was a small table, complete with two wooden chairs; both having cushions attached to them.

"P-Please get s-some rest (Y-Y/n), you l-look e-exhausted." Norman was worried for you, his shy face creased with concern.

"I'm planning on it. Night Norman, see you in the morning." You gave a mischievous smile as you kissed his cheek - showing your appreciation.

"G-Goodnight." It took him several times to say it coherently, because he was so nervous.

You waved at him before he left, shutting the door behind himself and leaving you to it. Or was he? Without you knowing, Norman had booked you into the room adjacent to his office; which had a peeping hole. The timid guy only wanted to watch you a little, you were so beautiful and sweet - just like a graceful goddess.

With sleepy eyes, you changed into your pyjamas, flicked the light off and climbed into bed; wiped out from tonight. Hopefully you can get to your mother's in the morning, although it had been real nice to meet Norman. It did strike you as weird how a 22yr old, bashful boy such as him worked alone at a motel. And in the middle of the night too? Strange...

Hannibal Lecter:
"I don't want to. I don't want to go!" You argued with the members of staff coldly, shaking your head.

"Ms (L/n), you must - it's for your treatment. It'll improve your mental health by up to 30%-"

"No! I'm fine! I don't want some doctor giving me pills that don't even work!" You were worked up, tears streaming down your face.

"Come with us miss." Two men appeared; both dressed in white lab coats.

"NO!" You yelled and tried to run, but they both grabbed an arm.

"Please try to relax, Ms (L/n). You're only going to talk to another doctor - he's not going to hurt you." The first, female member of staff consoled you gently.

You shook with nerves as they half-guided, half-dragged you to a room, with a plaque reading Dr. Lecter on it. Tensing up, you watched them knock on the door and writhed in their tough grasp, panicking.

"We've brought her Dr. Lecter." The woman said quietly, pushing open the door.

"Excellent." A smooth voice replied, causing you to freeze.

The two men used this opportunity to shove you into the room before shutting the door; rather abruptly too. You stared at the door, wanting nothing more than to leave immediately.

"Good afternoon Ms (L/n). Please, take a seat." The polite male gestured to the seat opposite him, a pen placed between his thumb and index finger.

"N...No thank you..." You whispered, deeply distrusting.

You didn't trust anyone; paranoia eating away at you like some sort of parasite. You grew way too attached to people and were terrified of rejection. Your whole world was broken, and you didn't see a way out of your situation.

"Now I would consider that to be quite rude, but looking at your psychological state I can understand." He murmured intently, and began writing in a file.

"Immediate mistrust, lack of self-esteem, your sudden fear of interacting with me...definitely paranoia. Judging by your tense muscles and faster breathing I assume you have anxiety too...along with your diagnosed borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder and depression. Quite a lot of issues there, I'd say." The man talked respectfully, his dark eyes scanning your body for any other symptoms or signs.

"Due to your symptoms I know you're afraid, but you have no reason to be. You're afraid of being judged; of being shut away like an outcast. This does not happen here. So please, take a seat." He softened his tone purposely, trying to get you to trust him; at least a little.

You edged your way towards him, slowly sitting down but not relaxing your tense posture in any way, shape or form.

"My name is Dr. Hannibal Lecter and I've been assigned to be your personal psychiatrist. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, (Y/n)." Hannibal introduced sincerely.

"Nice to...meet you." You replied, distrust flowing from your voice as you took in his appearance.

He was dressed in a smart suit, his coffee-coloured hair neatly combed back and his sienna eyes always trained to your face; his lips pulled into a charming smile. He seemed to be civil, but your paranoia was begging to not trust him.

"Now do be a dear and tell me a bit about yourself, so I can gather your exact symptoms. That way I can see how I need to help." Hannibal leaned back a bit in his leather chair and you took a minute to breathe.

"I-I...I'm (Y/n) (L/n), I'm (Y/a), and I've been admitted to this mental institution since I was six. I've always found it hard to make friends and my life has always been difficult. The will to live is slowly fading away and I always feel so helpless - to the point where I don't even want to accept help, because then I feel-"

"Weak? Cowardly? Too dependant on others?" He quietly quizzed, making you nod.

"Tell me about your past. What do you think caused these disorders of yours?" Hannibal twirled his pen in his hand, awaiting your answer.

"Well I used to get bullied a lot. Girls would insult my looks while boys would insult everything, and both would constantly harass me. My mother and father fought a lot, so my childhood wasn't ideal." You honestly confessed.

"A traumatising childhood can lead up to serious disorders, especially in your case. This is very common; thousands have been and are in your place." Hannibal hummed thoughtfully, and you thawed towards him a bit.

"Perhaps your past is the reason why..." You accidentally zoned him out, a symptom of your bipolar disorder being that you were too easily distracted.

"(Y/n). (Y/n)?" The second time Hannibal called your name he placed a comforting hand on your knee; causing you to leap to your feet and back away.

"Easy. I understand, being unable to concentrate is a symptom of bipolar disorder - but there's no need to feel jumpy around me." He patiently said, standing up with you.

"I only just met you, how can you prove that? You could be...You could be anybody." You nervous attitude made you snap a little, but you didn't mean it.

"My dear, that may be true, but how can you get to know someone if you shut them out at every given opportunity? You see? Your thinking is too negative due to extreme stress from your disorders." Hannibal talked in a superior way and to be honest, his truthful words stunned you.

He was...He was right. How were you meant to connect with anyone if you kept blocking them out? In fact, now that you thought about it, Hannibal was the first one to take you seriously and prove you wrong.

"-Trust in me, and no one but me. I can help you, if only you let me." He took both of your hands in his, his brown eyes staring into yours with such conviction that you found yourself agreeing.

"I...I...Okay." You felt like you were giving into something as you let him lead you back to the chair, your mind unable to focus.

"Good. We're making progress already." Hannibal smiled, but his smile looked slightly predatory.

In his eyes, you were just another victim of his; one to manipulate and twist against themselves. He wanted your complete trust, so you'd do anything he'd say. Whether it be to murder someone with no regret or turn into a cannibal like him. Hannibal mused over that; that wasn't a bad idea. You were a pretty little thing, and he had been lonely for a while - what with him being such a superior intellectual.

Yes...this will work out nicely~

Hope you guys enjoyed the first part! The schedule for this book is whenever I get a part ready. Stay awesome guys~😘

**UPDATE** I realised that Hannibal's hair colour isn't blonde, like I've written in my parts, (as confirmed by HealthyCeleb.com = Mads Mikkelsen's Height/Weight/Weight/Body Statistics) So now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back and rectify my mistake/s in every part. My apologies💙