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Object of Obsession	By : Demona_Andariel Category: G through L > Halloween (All) > Halloween (All) Views: 1807 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halloween movie series, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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How had he gotten there?
Michael slowly examined Gretchen’s very quiet apartment. The curtains had been left open, allowing the midday sun to brighten the place. He meant to avoid anything to do with her, and yet there he was, in her apartment.
He shook his head in annoyance at himself. Her apartment might as well be in the middle of town, it was at the edge of the main street that had most of the local shops. He was begging to get caught.
He strode over to her windows and closed the curtains, darkening the place and assuring more of his own safety. What a silly thing for him to worry about. But he had to think and he didn’t want to get interrupted.
Michael took off his mask and set it on the kitchen counter along with his knife. There was no reason to keep it on. It wasn’t as if she were coming home. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. The place still smelled like her, and she’d been gone for about a week he roughly calculated. Time had little meaning to him there was no reason to be exact. His heart picked up its beat, making him open his eyes.
There was a battle waging inside of him.
Something had happened mere hours ago. Something that forced him to leave the house early. Very early. Sleep should have hit him quickly. It had ever since he brought her to his old family home, every time he fucked her. But instead, he ended up tossing and turning. His mind, his emotions a twisted mess. Emotions? Twisted? Him?
He clenched one hand into a fist and slammed it down on the counter, eyes focusing on his mask. It wasn’t supposed to end like that. Killer, cold, rough Michael, that’s who he was. He always thought about himself and his own needs, only bringing her into the mix because he wanted her and he needed her to be alive. He wasn’t nice, he wasn’t a lover.
Liar.
Michael’s eyes narrowed. When had things turned on him? When had his resolve to show her that he wasn’t nice, that she was nothing more than a means to his own satisfied end shifted?
Things had been different from the start. She always fought him. Always resisted. It should have been easy. He enjoyed watching her fight back, knowing, in the end, she’d relent. Was it because she didn’t fight him? There was a bit of defiance in her eyes, but overall, she was quite willing. Eager, even.
Michael loosened his fist and then tapped the countertop with his fingers.
That had caught him off-guard, but it didn’t change things. Since she always came around anyway, only this time she made things easier for him. When she yelled at him to stop, he figured she changed her mind, that she was going to resist after all. And, in the back of his mind, he approved. Resist me so I can force you. He didn’t mean to catch her when she started to fall. It had been instinctual, automatic. Letting her go as quickly as he caught her was for his own sake.
That glare she shot him helped restore the balance between them. Good. She was going to be defiant. But then, she got shy and nervous. An attitude he’d never seen before. And she had to make a request. She didn’t demand. She asked that he not be rough all the time. Not only that, she made it quite clear to him that the rough sex hadn’t bothered her as much as he assumed it had. It gave him pause. Enough of a pause to notice that single erect nipple again.
Michael brought his hand up to rub his chin.
That nipple. Seeing her eyes half close and hearing her let out a small set of grunts as he barely stroked one nipple set his mind down a new path. He wanted to kiss her, deep and long. Maybe get her to moan while doing that. He wanted to explore every aspect of her being with his hands and his mouth before fucking her. Just, truly see what kinda of woman she was. He hadn’t stopped to get a real good look at her fully naked body.
Michael stepped away from the counter.
He needed to be rough and uncaring and she had to say please? His own heavy breathing amplified by his mask then reminded him of what was important. He wasn’t nice. She had forgotten that and so had he.
It should have worked. The look on her face when he pushed her against the wall and gave her a small nick should have allowed his colder side to take control. But instead, he found her more attractive. He wanted to hoist her up, take off his mask and plant his mouth between her breasts to lick and suck the tiny wound before attacking her breasts. He wanted to feel her lose control.
Mask stays on!
His pleasure, not hers! All about him. He had to remind himself. His toy. A blowjob. Yes. That would work. It was all about him. He wasn’t nice. He didn’t need to worry about taking off his mask. He could see her perfectly. She shouldn’t expect him to be nice. The flash of defiance was back. He needed that. He needed to make her do things she didn’t want to do. Hell, he half hoped she’d tried to spit out his cum just to force her to swallow. He needed to latch onto something else other than his sudden intense need to hear those sweet words that started to echo in his head.
Please. I need to come. Michael felt his heart rate pick up as his breathing deepened. What he wanted to do to her was not what he needed to do. They both had their place in the world.
She understood. At least, he thought she did. Her mood and body language changed, resigning herself to sucking his cock how he wanted. And then she had to get cute again, forgetting her place.
He didn’t care what lube she was interested in using. Why would he? He just wanted his cock sucked. Feel her warm wet mouth and plump lips wrapped around his cock, while her tongue pressed and licked around him. He was committed to taking more control, choke her with his cock if he had to to get his message across. He wasn’t nice. Yet for whatever reason, that resigned attitude vanished before she even reached him, and was replaced with a more lustful look. Those eyes held a hunger, a need. And that walk. Suggestively swinging her hips. Even having her panties on didn’t change his sudden mesmerization. He couldn’t move.
Her hands were so soft, gentle, and yet firm when she placed them on his stomach and the feeling of them running down to grasp his cock was something else. Much like the first time, she grasped his cock firmly, not timid or shy. Did she even know how she looked at him in that moment? Her mouth had opened into a big grin at his response.
She had to flip things on him. Suddenly, she had the control over his pleasure. And, for whatever reason, he didn’t want to take it back. He was curious as to what she would do. How could he be cold, uncaring Michael when she turned into this seductive, sensual creature. Her hazel eyes caught his, burning with desire and need. Mask stays on. She started touching herself. She tried to be subtle about it, moving her hand from fondling his balls to her leg. Except it traveled further down. He could see the muscles of that arm move.
Michael rubbed his face as a heat started to stir inside of him. No! He wasn’t trying to turn himself on. He was trying to figure out what had happened. But, that was it, wasn’t it? That was when things truly changed for him. He wanted to know how she could get such joy out of sucking his cock. How could that turn her on?
Michael shifted with unease.
One moment she was happily sucking his cock, making noises, touching herself, and then the next she grew serious. She was still sucking his cock, bringing her slick fingers with her own juices to join her other hand that rubbed his shaft. The passion, the eagerness, the acceptance was gone.
You won’t keep her if you continue to act like this. You will lose her.
Michael frowned. She belonged to him. How could he lose her? It was just about sex and what he wanted. They both knew that. Was that what went through her head when he started to reach his peak?
Michael shut his memory down to focus his attention on the present. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.
Hmm, he mused. Her apartment, yes, why was he there?
It was two a bedroom, one bath single apartment that was over top of a little antique store. And the only one there so she didn’t have neighbors. Despite it being noon, the antique shop was closed. Was it the weekend?
Doesn’t matter, he thought to himself.
The apartment was cozy and immaculate. Nothing seemed to be out of place. So still and lifeless. But, it was her home. He’d used her key to open the front door and a letter in her car had that address.
He strode over to the kitchen and pulled the fridge door open, revealing the semi-fresh produce inside. Yeah. She lived there. He paused by the dining room table and opened her laptop. It was dead. Probably had been for a while.
Her bedroom was clean, the bed nicely made, and her clothes were organized in her closet. He rifled through them, seeing which one looked interesting. Perhaps he’d bring a couple back with him.
Stop, he warned himself, pulling away from her bedroom, and closing the door behind him. He wasn’t quite ready to think about that.
Stepping into the second bedroom, Michael cocked his head to one side. She had converted it into a little art studio. He had noticed her sketchbook and was curious about what was in it, but not enough to go out of his way and look.
He examined the various canvases. Many were partially worked on, most were paintings of various landscapes or the sky. He knew nothing about art, but the paintings didn’t look half bad in his opinion. Setting one of the landscapes back down, he spotted another canvas in the back that intrigued him. With a curious tilt of his head, he pulled it up, carefully examining it.
There wasn’t anything special about it. It was just a meadow with a forest in the background. But he liked it. There was something nice and serene, an odd pleasantness he’d never felt before.
Pleasantness…
He set the painting down, feeling slightly uncomfortable about that feeling. Pleasant?
Michael walked back into the main living area and surveyed the apartment again. Something felt off. Nothing looked out of place, but his senses were telling him something was wrong.
His eyes widened and he quickly searched the place again. That was it. Nothing was out of place. The whole apartment didn’t look as if it had been searched through at all. She said she had family and that they’d be looking for her, but they weren’t. Had she lied to him? Too worried that he’d kill her if he didn’t know people would look for her? Or was it some attempt to garner his compassion?
No. He had no doubt she could lie. But those emotions, that face she made when she told him she rather he didn’t kill her family, that wasn’t the face of a liar. Which meant they, for whatever reason, had yet to check her apartment. Did they even know she was missing? How strange.
He rolled his shoulders in annoyance. There was still something off. Something else was nagging him about the apartment. Yes, it hadn’t been searched through. The fact that her laptop was still on the dining room table was more than enough proof of that.
A small bookshelf next to the TV caught his attention, making him walk over to it. He pulled one out, flipping through the pages, and snorted in amusement. All of them were similar in vein, dealing with the supernatural and occult. He had noticed she opted to say “gods” over “God”. Not that he cared. He wasn’t religious in any manner. He cocked his head to one side and pulled another book out. “The Darkness Among Us” by Dr. Samuel Loomis.
He slid the book back into its spot. Whatever was written in there was not important. But, he did find it interesting that she had a book from his dear old “friend” Dr. Loomis. But of course. She lived in Haddonfield. He had little doubt that his story had become the stuff of legends.
Hmm, he mused, once again surveying the place. That bookshelf was personal, the little art studio she had made was personal. He stared at the bare white wall for a moment.
His eyes widened and once again he gave the apartment another once-through. That’s what was missing. Personal photos. In fact, looking around, he realized that her apartment wasn’t very personal at all. It was lived in, but it didn’t have the sense of someone making it their home. Very strange. It made him curious. Which, was a bit of an annoyance since he couldn’t ask her.
Gretchen. That woman. He should have fucked her against the wall instead of on the bed as she had suggested. She wouldn’t have spread her legs like she had, she wouldn’t have looked at him with such a wanton face. Once again, he almost tossed his mask to one side to kiss her. He wanted to see the way her face moved when he filled her up with his cock.
She drove him crazy. He thought flipping her over would have restored the balance in him. All he had to do was fuck her and quickly. Only, his plan backfired on him. He shouldn’t have licked her. He shouldn’t have tasted her. But she was just far too tempting and in the perfect position: ass up in the air, head buried in the bed. She wouldn’t be able to see his face if he took off his mask. And if she tried he had plenty of time to put it back on.
The moment he snuck a taste he knew he was done for. Hearing her mewls, her breathing, seeing her struggle to have him please her, wreaked havoc on him. Was that how she felt when it came to him? It was addicting. He wanted to turn her onto her back, watch her expression as he ate her out, and then fuck her. He hadn’t really seen her face while he fucked her since their first night together. And that wasn’t the most pleasant of memories. At least for her.
What a curious thought to pop into his mind. As if he cared what her memories were.
It took too much self-control to reign himself back. To force himself to fuck her while all he really wanted to do at that moment was just get her to come with his mouth.
He rubbed his face with his hand in frustration.
Why did she have to move? Why did she have to drag her body across the bed so that he could lay over her? He should have pulled her back and positioned her the way she was. That was another mistake.
Even though she was on her stomach, having her underneath him and not up against a wall or counter felt amazing. He enjoyed the other times as well, but this. There was something about feeling her body completely under his that just turned him on more. It felt… he wasn’t sure what word he was looking for. He didn’t know if he wanted to fuck her hard or slow. So, he ended up with a mixture of both.
That’s when he officially got lost. He focused on listening to her, paying attention to the way her body moved. He rubbed her clit because he knew she wasn’t expecting it and received that delightful surprised response from her. He wasn’t sure at what point his mask had come off. Seeing her help herself to her own orgasm while he fucked her, feeling her pussy clench around him, hearing that loud moan of pure pleasure, and her body tremble under him was almost too much. He almost kissed her without his mask, barely remembering it was beside him to hastily put most of it on before he demanded her lips.
No hesitation, no resistance, but on the same page as he was. Her hand pressed his cheek to keep him near as if she were afraid he’d pull away too soon. It was too much. He couldn’t hold back anymore, and then that was it. He was done. They were done.
Idiot, he snapped at himself. He just had to rest his forehead on the back of her head for a moment. Breathing in the smell of her hair. What was that? That connection between them. They weren’t even fucking, just there together in that after moment. And, he liked it. But, he wasn’t allowed to like it. He wasn’t nice. She needed to know that.
He’d fucked up.
Leaving her bed was a lot harder than he thought it would be. He could barely look at her. It was far too dangerous. He knew what would happen if he lingered too long. He’d go back to her, and he’d end up doing things that would only strengthen her ability to ask things of him. But, he found the strength, with his mask back on, putting that barrier between him and her.
That look she gave him before he walked out. He’d never seen it before.
He clapped his hands on his knees and stood up. What was done was done. So, why was he fretting? This wasn’t like him.
You’re a killer, Michael. And she’s your victim, he chided himself. A killer without remorse. He thought of no one but himself and his own needs. Knife, cock, either way, someone was getting stabbed, and they weren’t supposed to like it.
He let out a dramatic sigh. The problem was, he was lying to himself and he knew it. Out in the world, he was Michael Myers, the serial killer. A soulless man without remorse and no care for who his victims were. But there, in that house, he was turning into something else.
Michael walked over to the counter and picked up his mask. Truly, it all came down to his mask in the end. As long as he kept it on, he kept that barrier between him and her. He could still fall back on the colder Michael. The one who was more willing to fuck her and leave her.
A loud playful scream interrupted his musing. He strode over to the window and pulled the curtain to one side, just enough to peak out.
A couple caught his attention. A little boy hopped with joy in front of them before his father shouted something. The man’s words were muffled by his distance. Not that it mattered.
They weren’t the only ones out. A few other people were roaming about. Casually walking along the sidewalk to whatever destination they were headed to. Victims. All of them. Perhaps a killing spree was in order. Straighten out his mind. Get rid of those pesky emotions that he somehow brought with him out of the house. He didn’t need someone else in his life. He didn’t care if he hurt anyone.
Michael slipped his mask back on, making sure it was secure. Yes, a killing spree sounded like a good plan.
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Object of Obsession