*Child abuse is in this story, along with suicide*

This is inspired by Todd and Alice from Detroit: Become Human
By the way, you're seven in the story.

Hi, future Grass/Author here. I just had to come back to appreciate the art.

Ugh...Author about a year into the future here- damn this story is edgy lol. I'm prolly gonna a publish a remastered version either by 7/11 or 7/12, by the way. It's gonna be less uh-- this-

Word Count: 2133
Length: Medium
Time Taken: 1 Day
Rating: 2/5

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No POV

Y/N sung as she played with her stuffed F/A, [Stuffed Animal Name]. She was happy for once. Indeed, for once. Her father was the one and only Boogeyman, also known Michael Myers. Now you might be thinking, How does this child exist? Did Michael find her and raise her? Did some insane women fall in love with him? Did he, eh. . .r. . .

Well, one day, Michael found himself shot and wounded badly. The one who shot him was killed by some women, then she cane to his aid after he passed out. After a while, they fell in love and had a child. Though, Y/N's Mom died after giving birth to their daughter. Michael hated his daughter, as he only wanted M/N in life. His daughter meant nothing to him, and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

Due to this hatred, he would hit Y/N. Kick her, throw her, choke her, etc. But he would never kill her, as she is only thing left of his dead lover. Though, he would always go near killing her. It hurt him to know that his lover would've hated him if she was there to see all he had done to Y/N. He would watch her report him, and he would be locked away again as she and their daughter stayed away forever, never to turn to him.

Fear hit Y/N like a brick as she heard the front door to the one abandoned cabin slammed open and close. Her father was home, and he was pissed. She turned to her bedroom door, running to it and closing it. She was on the verge of crying, as her father would almost kill her. All the pain and blood would scare her. The thought of being thrown against the wall and being told painful things. . .

Like how she was a mistake. How she is the reason her mother is dead. How she didn't deserve to live. All these things while being cut deeply by his blade. A tear ran down her face as she heard footsteps quickly come up the stairs, and to her room. She wished there was a lock on the door. . .

Y/N ran to her bed, which was furthest from the door, and laid in it. Dhe closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. Though, she knew her father wasn't that stupid. Her father knew everything, including weather or not she was asleep. She cried quietly as her door opened, making that annoying creak sound.

Her chest rose up and down at an unstable pace as she sobbed. She didn't want to feel the pain again. . . She just couldn't. She can't. . . Not again. . .

She didn't hear any footsteps, but knew he was looming over her. His shadow and furious aura made it clear. Y/N felt eyes stab her back as she chocked on her sobbed, coughing once.

"Get up," her father ordered quietly. Y/N couldn't move. Her heart stopped as her eyes opened. She knew she would almost die again, not to mention that she wasn't moving.

Michael grabbed her arm, throwing her off the bed forcefully. She whined in pain as she hit the floor, creating a load thud. She continued crying as blood dripped from a new open wound on her arm. Michael grabbed Y/N by her long H/C hair. ((You never got your hair cut before.))

Michael yanked her up, making her scream out in pain. He slapped her to shut her up, to which she tried to. Her cries weren't silenced, though her screams were. He growled, cutting her arm quickly. Blood splashed against

The pain lasted for a long time. A few hours, which is only a little but longer than what the pain usually lasts. He continues hurting her until he feels she got what she deserved. And what she deserves in his mind was pain. Constant pain. He knew that, like him, she could bare a lot and live threw things the normal can't. Such as blood loss and fire.

Y/N cowarded in a corner, crying her heart out as Michael only stood there, watching. He was still pissed, but refused to continue, as it would kill her. Y/N knew how to fix herself, so he didn't bother helping her. He scoffed silently bedore turning around, facing the door. He started walking towards it.

"Why don't you love me. . .?" Y/N chocked out threw sobs. Michael stopped dead in his tracks, then faced his daughter.

"You already know why, you parasitic bitch," he insulted. Rather than feeling a lot more suicidal and hated, Y/N grew angry. She slowly stood up.

"It wasn't my fault. . ." She sobbed quietly. Michael rolled his eyes walking towards the exit again.

"And she would've left you anyway. . ." She said, though without emotion. Just like Michael spoke... Michael snapped his head towards Y/N, taking a threatening step towards her.

". . . What?" He asked darkly. Y/N knew would be hurt after this, though she refused to continue playing the damsel in distress.

"Wasn't she the motherly kind? She would have left you. She probably hates you now. After all you have said done to me," Y/N replied, still emotionless. Michael growled, walking up to his daughter. He grabbed her by the throat tightly, sufficating Y/N.

He tried to ignore what Y/N said, but just couldn't. He felt as if his soul shattered. She was right. . . wasn't she?

Y/N had another dry tear steamed down her face. This time, it felt like she really was going to die. He throat felt like it was being smashed together. She couldn't swallow or breath at all, and her eyes widened. She thrashed around, trying to break free. Her heart was pounding and he face was burning.

She tried to screamed, but it only came out as a muffled noise. Suddenly, Y/N fell limp. Her eyes closed.

Michael finally snapped out of his thoughts, and let go of Y/N, taking steps back. She fell to the floor lifelessly. Michael was frozen, unable to believe what he had done. His eyes widened as he crouched down to her body. His heart stopped.

For once, tears were near falling. The only thing left he had of his lover was now gone. Gone forever. He wiped away tears as he turned Y/N's body over.

He did CPR, though it didn't work. Y/N was now died permanently. And it was all his fault. All his fault. . .

Michael's entire world shattered as he cried over his daughter's death. His dead lover would've hated him, and he knew it. He leaned against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, silently crying now.

He started thinking of all he could've done with Y/N. All the good times they could have had with each other.

He imaged himself giving Y/N a knife when she was 5. He broke into a house with her, making some women scream. He would tell Y/N to stab her, and she would brutally. He would praise her, then go on a killing spree.

He imaged himself playing with stuffer animals with Y/N. He was playing an evil character that killed all the good characters. Y/N would giggle cutely when random, childish things would happen in their pretend. Then, he would get bored and tag her. They would start playing happily.

He Imagined himself bringing Y/N her baby favorite animal for her birthday, a F/A. She would smile brightly and hug the animal, then hug him. And the thoughts of how on Christmas, they would spend time together on the rundown couch, watching stolen movies.

But now, it can never happen. He had never considered having happy times with her, and never had have one with her. All because he blinded by hated and the past. There wasn't anything to live for now, was there? He never felt this suicidal before, and believed now was the right time.

He grabbed his knife from his pocket, taking in deep breaths. At least he would meet them again in the afterlife, right? He hoped he would be able to apologize, at least. Or go to Hell and suffer forever. Anyway, he engraved deep cuts into his wrists, watching coldly as the blood fell. It would take a long time until the pain goes away and for him to die, but he felt he deserved it. Unlike Y/N did.

Why do you...
Seem disappointed?
Or, too happy?
I can't tell.
Perhaps. . .
You don't like the ending.
You want to live.
You want them to make up.
Well. . .
It would be difficult. . .
But...
I can bend this world that these characters live in.
I can change their mind snd change their time.
After all, I am the creator.
Writing should not be too hard.
Allow me to change the story.
Or, keep the original.
It is your choice.
To not get confused, know this.
Michael left the room rather than stop when you said that your mother would have left him.
Him walking to you and killing you was only a dream.
Enjoy, children.

Michael awoke with a jolt. His heart, for once, was racing. He had a nightmare for once. And he. . .felt bad. He thought what it would be like if. . . But it felt too real. Did he really. . .

He looked around his room quickly. He then checked his wrists. Did it really happen? Did he really kill his daughter? The fear of it possibly happened. . .scared him. His racing heart slowed down when he Imagined his daughter lifeless. His dead lover sending him a look of disappointment as she held a fearful little girl known as Y/N in her hands. And his lover walking away.

Tears filled his eyes as his breathing gor heavy. He ran out of his room, stumbling in the process. He ran to his daughter's room, almost breaking the door down in the process. Y/N gasped, jumping. She ran her bed, her eyes filling with tears.

Michael POV

"I'm sorry I'm not asleep and it's past my bed time! Please don't hurt me!" She begged fearfully. I was silent, and my heart raced slowed down. I walked towards my daughter. Somehow. . .I was crying. The sudden strong guilt of how I treated Y/N heart deeply. Like deep cuts engraved in your skin.

He whimpered, crawling to the wall to get away from me. She was on the verge of crying.

I sat on the bed, reaching for Y/N. I could tell she was confused, as she saw my tears. She scooted away from mez but came in contact with the way.

I grabbed her arm and brought her close to me, bringing her into a hug. She was taken aback, and didn't react at first. Though. . .she hugged back. I began crying crying into her shoulder. I heard her sob as well.

"Y/N. . .," I whispered. She continued crying, but hummed in response.

"Not again. . .will I hurt you. . ." I whispered as I let go, moving back. I stared into her E/C eyes. Just like her mother's. . .

A sad, small smile appeared on her face.

"R-Really...?" She asked, crying more. I wiped away her tears, nodding.

After some time, half of my dream came true. I was able to find a pup/kit ((Kits and pups are newborns. Puppies and kitties are older,)) lying on the side of the room, and alive. On Y/N's birthday, Halloween, I gave it to her.

That was the happiest I've ever seen Y/N be. She hugged me, and I hugged back. At dark, I took Y/N's hand and we went to a random house. I broke the back window and unlocked the door, allowing both me and my daughter to get in. I gave her a knife, telling her to stab and cut whoever was in the house.

She nodded, walking into the kitchen and saw a teenager. Y/N giggled darkly, surprising me at first. It seems I didn't know much about Y/N, after all. It hurt me but I brushed it off. I watched with a smile as Y/N killed the teen.

Once Christmas rolled around, we watched horror movies, stole gifts, cookies and other foods/drinks, and had fun together.

It was....the best thing I could've asked for. Something tells me that M/N was the one who sent it to me. I'll thank once I'm dead. . .