[ Dear Diary,

The Micheal Myers is definitely strange. I've only been living with him for two hours now and he has no regard for personal space. He has stood right behind me, with barely an inch of breathing space, and no privacy.

Perhaps he only left to do the necessities of living, but this seems like it'll be the only privacy I truly have. I wonder how sleeping arrangements and my personal moments will be affected.

Of course there's the side of me that doesn't particularly care, though another side that does. I don't mind in the sense that he doesn't seem sex driven (not to mention was 10 when put in the sanitarium so he hasn't had any experience), but he's still another being that might insist on viewing me so... indecently.

A part of me was also curious though... he'd have to take the mask off if he got in the shower with me (though he might just watch me) then I'd see his face. He's overly built so it would be nice to put a face to body and not just some store bought mask.

Anyways, it sounds like he's coming back, goodbye for now diary!

~ (Y/n)"

(Y/n) raised her head to find the shape slowly stalking back toward her. She gave him a gentle smile before getting back onto her feet to continue working. He tilted his head at her in confusion. Though disappointed by her lack of fear, another feeling scorched his mind.

'She's not afraid... my possession is not afraid which means I could do what I want without scaring her, right?' Micheal thought to himself, following the woman slowly. He watched as she cleaned off the island that she had slightly dirtied a while ago with her breakfast.

Slowly, his hand reached out to grab her, his strong grip adjusting itself onto her shoulder. A small smirk crawled onto his lips when she flinched and turned abruptly. He stared down at her, watching as those wild eyes calmed. She took a deep breath and relaxed, trying not to overreact. Though a short cry left her when Micheal abruptly picked her up and brought her down the stairs.

"H-hey! What are you doing?!" She called softly to the large man carrying her. Micheal (as expected) didn't respond, just made his way to the basement before setting her down. In the basement was a pillow, a blanket, and rope.

Before (Y/n) could figure out her reaction, Micheal tied her wrists to a strong pillar holding up the house above. (Y/n) looked toward him with fear in her eyes, that is till he abruptly walked away. She called after him, confusion and fear running through her.

Micheal didn't return in, what seemed to be, the span of 30 minutes. Unfortunately, (Y/n) was getting tired and sleep carried her away from the real world.

Micheal, however, was on the starting of his killing spree. Joy and slight disappointment fueling his kill drive. He was glad to have a possession who seemed so willing, though disappointingly, she wasn't entirely scared and her scares are short lived. He needed to think of something, something that wouldn't destroy his new possession, but not something that will keep her entirely from being so calm and casual around him.

The only thing that worried him was her running off to tell, that's why he locked her up. Whether she was trying to escape or just sitting there was beyond him. In the moment though, he didn't quite care, he just wanted to kill.

He returned to his home drenched is blood, he now felt calm or rather: satisfied. When he returned the bottom floor was empty and the basement remained closed. Perhaps she hadn't left?

Slowly, he made his way down the basement paranoia building up inside of him. He wasn't particularly afraid she had escaped, just worried about the backlash it would cause him. Fortunately, when he arrived at the bottom step, he found (Y/n) lying there, asleep from the boredom, still in her ropes.

Micheal tilted his head before going up to the woman and releasing her from the rope. Gently, he picked her up off the ground and brought her upstairs and to the second floor where her bedroom was. He laid her down on the bed she had for herself and stood in the corner, watching her sleep.

When (Y/n) awoke in her room, she was confused. There was no way that was a dream, was it? She shook her head and got out of bed, figuring a shower would help her relax.

The now cleaned bathroom made her feel content with herself as she began to strip of her clothing after closing the door. (Y/n) turned on the shower and began brushing her hair as she waited for it to heat up. She frowned at the bruises and cuts on her skin and rubbed her arm.

"Thanks for the reminder dad..." (Y/n) muttered with a frown. Micheal was curious, listening to (Y/n) speak to herself. Slowly, he approached. Perhaps he could join her? He hadn't showered in a while and she was too scared to tell him no.

Besides, he's never seen a nude woman before. Slowly, he approached the door. He shoved it open, scaring the woman, making her drop to the ground with a cry. Micheal looked down at the woman, tilting his head. She was hurt. Why was she hurt?

(Y/n)'s breathing was heavy as her palms rest on the ground before quickly realizing she was naked and this serial killer was staring down at her VERY naked body. Covering herself, finally, (Y/n) rose to her feet, trembling from the chill and fear.

"M-Micheal! What are you doing in here?!" She asked quickly. Micheal tilted his head once more, confused. This is his house after all, isn't he allowed in here?

Micheal stared at the woman before remembering the two janitors that broke into his cell before he left. They had brought in a girl... Micheal looked between his hand and below (Y/n)'s waist. But with the shift of her coverage, Micheal could automatically tell that maybe he shouldn't be getting communication advice from two (dead) assholes.

"D-Did you want to join me?" (Y/n)'s trembling voice asked the man. Slowly, Micheal nodded. "Ok... well I guess I'll get in and look away."

(Y/n) entered the shower and closed her eyes, cringing slightly at the sound of discarded clothes and the creak of the tub they stood in when he entered. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on cleaning herself before two massive hands placed themselves on her hips. Slowly, she was turned around.

(Y/n) had no choice but to look up. Long brown hair draped in front of the killers face. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she tried to figure out what he wanted. Perhaps just to look at her. (Y/n) was scared to even take a glance down, just wanting to get out.

A grunt left Micheal's lips as he pointed to the bottles, clearly confused. (Y/n) blinked, taking a moment before finally understanding.

"Oh, those are the soap bottles. The white one is body wash, the red one is shampoo and the blue one is conditioner. Just make sure to use all three. But only the red and blue ones go in your hair." She explained with a soft chuckle.

(Y/n) was soon able to turn back around and continue washing herself. That was, until she felt something cool against her scalp and two large hands begin to scrub, but mostly play with, her hair. She let out a squeak and took in deep breaths, trying to stay calm.

Soon, the hands stopped, but then there was more cool liquid on her head and the hands returned. (Y/n) then began to realize something: he was at a sanitarium, he's probably used to others doing the work for him. So... he's going to expect her to.

Finally, the soap was getting rinsed out and slowly she was turned around once more. She stared up at the man who stood there staring at her expectantly.

"M-Micheal you're a little too tall..." she murmured nervously, rubbing her arm. The man slowly tilted his head before grabbing her by the hips and lifting her up, putting (Y/n) at eye level. "Gah!"

Micheal waited, she was just scared, and she was short. Everyone was short really... (Y/n) inhaled deeply before washing his hair, thankfully he hadn't tried to wash her body so maybe he had some knowledge of what was appropriate and not.

The shower didn't last much longer, Micheal only tolerated the shampoo until it got in his eyes, then he kicked (Y/n) out so he could fight the soap. (Y/n) took the time to calm down and go downstairs to cook.