Myers

by Zepphora

For the spooky bitches who always thought Michael Myers was swinging a horse cock and would fuck like a demon. He knows you can be a good girl and a dirty slut at the same time.

Pain in the body quiets pain in the mind. PENELOPE DOUGLAS, KILLSWITCH

Reading this book too right now lol

I want a man who will stop at nothing to have me. I want a man who’s toxicity knows no bounds. He’d not only die for me. No, that’s too minimal. I want a man who would kill for me and take the life sentence with a smile on his face.

Hell, I have my own sexual desires but you don’t hear me screaming about how I want to play dead and be fucked into the mud by a man covered in blood while holding a knife to my throat. They might run for the hills if they heard about that or how horror movies really get me going during the gore-filled kill scenes.

“Dear, sometimes bad people do bad things and there’s no explanation that can make it better.” “I’m not trying to make it better,” I grit the words through my teeth. “And, he was twelve. Do I really need to mention that again? That’s a little kid. Kids don’t just hurt people.”

She doesn’t need to darken herself to meet what I am. She can be the angel to my demented nature. She can balance it out with her good. I can carry this burden on my own. All I need is her.

still need to finish the book with the skull and roses on the cover. It’s been really popular on BookTok and I know it’s very much up my alley, but I just haven’t had time to read.

Damien King doesn’t fuck around. If he wants you dead, you might as well start digging your grave. He gets what he wants and from his calling card, what he wants is Bellatrix Rothchild.

This is what happens to those who look at what belongs to me. You have been warned. -Damien King P.S. Happy Halloween

I can’t stay in Chippewa Falls and, by now, you should know why. I want you to come with me when I leave. I’ve waited so long to have you, my pretty little dead girl. I won’t leave you behind in this shithole. Yours, Damien King

I gave my virginity to the infamous Halloween killer and I’d do it again. Maybe I’m just as fucked up as he is.

However, rape fantasies are a thing. It’s about dominance, being so desired that the other person can’t control themselves. It’s also a form of trauma release for women who have been raped.

One day, I’m going to let her read her dark, dirty book while I fuck her tight cunt.

No matter how dark and twisted it is, I want him to want me. I want him to crave me like I’ve always wanted to be desired. I want to be the final girl, the one in horror movies that make it out alive and become an obsession for the killer to finally get. However, in my head, the horror movie ends differently. It ends with him taking me away from this town and being content just having me.

I didn’t think this level of devotion existed. I thought it was only possible in my fantasies, but he’s right here, staring at me like I hung the moon and created the stars.

I’m just as dedicated and obsessed with him as he is with me. It’s not love. It’s better than that. It’s everything.

He releases my lips for a moment to smirk at me. “My pretty little dead girl has some dirty deeds of her own.” I smile up at him. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”