NIGHTMARE SEQUENCE—Scream for Slash!

Pairing: JasonxMichael

It all began as the group of notorious murderers gathered at an old, trashed apartment complex. Number 3113 of Wimbleton Apartments, that's where they'd been told to go. Now they stood in the living room area, a small and cramped place, staring at each other, their luggage in hand. Pinhead and his minions wasted no time in reserving most of the apartment for themselves; of course this made Freddy get mad and start yelling his obnoxiously loud voice. Jason narrowed his eyes at his longtime nemeses. Out of every other killer, why had he had to live here, with these idiots?

He grumbled as he took out his toothbrush and toothpaste and went to put them in the bathroom. Of course, with everyone running around crazily trying to leave their mark, this was impossible to do without bumping into the youngest killer of the bunch. Jason had heart rumors of Michael Myers. Other killers said he was an idiot, a total child that had made most of his infamous career by going into one murderous temper tantrum after another. Although he was reportedly one of the youngest slashers—at only 21, of course—he still towered just below Jason's nose, which was considerably quite tall.

You're in my way, idiot. He thought, trying to push the younger killer aside. Michael just stood there awkwardly, itching his messy brown hair.

Sorry. I'm not good at remembering names, he wrote. Who are you again? I know that guy right there- he stopped scribbling on his notepad and pointed to Freddy with his pencil, -he's Freddy Krueger. The creepy guy whose glued to his cell phone is Ghostface, but you-

I'm Jason Voorhees, kid, Jason wrote, pushing past Michael and into the bathroom. To his surprise the younger killer followed him, his eyes shining with curiosity. He hurriedly wrote something down in his notebook and passed it to Jason.

It read: Hey, hey, so I've heard from everyone else that you're supposed to be really ugly, so can I see you without your mask?

This infuriated Jason enough to reach around and grab the younger killer by his hair. Michael let out a near-silent squeak of pain and surprise, and resisted as he was flung hard onto the tiled floor. Jason wrote something down then threw it at Michael as he threw down his toothbrush on the bathroom sink then stalked out of the tiny room.

If first impressions really were the most important ones, Michael hadn't made a very good one. Yet although Jason hated to admit it there was something about the kid that was like a hook; it had dug into him and kept making him want to stop and talk to the other killer. That's what caused Jason to hesitate at the door of the bathroom and turn around. Michael was busy studying his mask in the mirror, looking at it from different angles, probably making absurd, exaggerated expressions under the rubber. Jason rolled his eyes.

Never mind, he hated the kid.

Needless to say that months passed where Jason couldn't stand to be in the same room as any of the other four killers, much less Michael. Still, the more he tried to stay away from the kid, the more he was pulled to him. It was disgusting. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and it made him angry. He wanted to kill everything when Michael entered the room. He didn't know what it was—friendly competition? No. It was something that Jason's mind couldn't handle, so he transferred it into the emotion he was most familiar with. Anger.

What made it even worse was that after a mere few weeks with the other silent killer, they'd been able to begin reading each other's thoughts. Jason hated to admit it, but he'd never bonded with someone so quickly. Still, they kept this a secret well until the other two killers could understand their thoughts as well. Voorhees figured—and correctly so—that it was easier that way. Nobody asked questions, nobody knew how close he'd grown to Myers. Time passed slowly after that.

There came a day when he sat on the couch reading a newspaper. Around him sat Ghostface, Freddy, and Myers, all mindlessly watching some T.V. Show. Needless to say, now notes had become obsolete and meaningless work, so Myers thought dully, I wish there was something to do today.

"Why don't we go someplace like the movies?" Ghostface suggested, taking out his cell phone and answering a text. Freddy glared over at him.

"Don't be stupid. Usin public isn't a good fucking idea, dipshit."

"We could go out for dinner."

"With whose money?"

Ghostface glared over at Freddy. "It was just a suggestion. Hell, at least we're trying to think of stuff to do! All you and Voorhees wanna do is sit around here all day and brood over stupid shit!"

Jason didn't even look up from the paper he was reading; he just turned the page and thought, Don't bring my name into this.

Well it's hard not to, Michael chimed in. You are kind of boring.

Jason glanced over the top of the paper to the youngest killer. Oh, y

ou think that I'm boring?

Yeah!

"You sure are." Ghostface agreed.

"Just sitting there and fucking reading." Freddy added. "Like an asshole."

Jason sighed. He threw down his paper and thought, Well fine. You want interesting? Here. He got up and went over to a small shelf that stood to the left of the T.V. After a moment of rooting around, he came back and sat on the couch, handing each one of the killers a book. They all just stared at it puzzledly.

At last Ghostface asked, "What the fuck is this?"

A book, Jason thought. You read it.

Freddy laughed and began cutting the paper with his clawed hand. Jason saw this and his eyes grew wide. He lunged at the talking killer, trying to save the poor book before it was totally butchered. This lead to he and Freddy rolling around trying to kill each other, knocking over the table, chairs, and everything else in their way. At last Jason, panting, stood up and thought, That's it, Krueger! That's the last straw!

"Oh yeah, retard?" Freddy challenged, laughing. "What the fuck are you gonna do about it?"

In response to this, Jason went over, unlatched the balcony doors, and sent Krueger flying over the metal rails and into the alley below. Ghostface saw this and jumped up, panicked. "What the fuck did you do that for?! So what, he tore your stupid ass book? Who gives a fu-"

He shut his mouth as Jason stomped over to him and picked him up into the air by his shirt. You want to go next? When no response came, Voorhees went out and tossed Ghostface into the alley, anyway. That just left Michael. The young killer stared at Jason. It wasn't fear that shined out of his young eyes, but admiration.

As Jason went over and locked the apartment door, Myers thought, That was sweet.

Whatever. Voorhees thought, trying not to let his pride show. He loved impressing the younger killer. It was just something about the way his eyes shined with adoration that made his day. Jason wandered back over to the couch and plopped down, switching off the T.V.

Hey, I was watching that!

No, now we're reading.

But-

Just read, kid. Jason thought, picking up his newspaper and glancing it over. Michael quieted down and fingered his book. After a moment he opened it to the first page. He stared at it blankly for a long while before finally signing and throwing it to the side. Voorhees barley glanced up at him. Problem, Myers?

Yeah, I have a problem! He thought, ripping Jason's paper away from him and tearing it up. Voorhees sighed tiredly.

Great, so now I have to throw you off the balcony too. Come here, kid. With a labored breath he rose up to his full height and grabbed Michael by his hair. The younger killer twisted out of his grasp, and backed into a corner, breathing hard.

It's not fair! He thought.

Jason arched a brow under his mask. What's not fair? That I keep having literature torn up in front of my face? Yeah, that's pretty unfair if you ask m-

I can't even read, you idiot!

There was a long, awkward moment of silence that followed before Jason repeated Myers' thought slowly. You...you can't read? Ashamed, Michael turned away and slumped his shoulders. Jason sighed and went over to him, holding out another book. He nudged the young killer's shoulder. That's nothing to be embarrassed about. Here, I'll teach you.

Are you serious...?

Yeah, now get your ass over here before I change my damn mind. Jason thought firmly, wandering over into the kitchen and switching on the dim light. He sat down on the floor and Michael slowly did the same, never taking his gaze off of the bigger, wiser killer.

Alright, Jason thought, flipping the book to page one, start here. How do you think you say that word? He pointed a finger at it. Michael stared at the hulking killer's black, deadened nails as they indicated the word.

At last he sighed and thought, I-F...if. He ran a nervous hand through his unruly brown hair and thought cautiously, I-If yuh...you?

Yep. Keep going.

If you re—rea...lly?

Really. Jason thought, pointing to the next word. When Michael hesitated, Voorhees took a deep breath and began reading for him. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is-

Jason?

Huh? He glanced up from the book. Michael was leaning in, very close to his face, his dark eyes shining bright with something. Jason instantly felt the feeling in his fingers disappear, and he dropped the book clumsily, trying not to meet Myers' intensely affectionate gaze. What was wrong with this kid? The second someone did anything nice for him he was...

He's desperate...

Jason's mind reeled at this new realization. He nervously flipped through the pages of the book, back and forth, back and forth as he thought to himself. Michael had only known Jason for a few months, yet here they were sitting together, reading. Voorhees had never had a companion like this. Something inside of him screamed for murder. It was the part of him that was eternally confused when it came to human emotion. Kill, kill, kill and it'll all be worked out...

Jason?

Yeah, Michael?

What's this book called?

Jason's breath caught in his throat as Michael scooted closer to him and tried to read the title over his shoulder. Voorhees thought, The Catcher in the Rye.

Why do you have it?

Because it's about a boy who-

You like reading about little boys?

Jason became flustered and pushed Michael away. N-No! It's about a boy who doesn't understand the world. He's too childish to really grow up. When he saw Michael's eyes look down, he kept going. Maybe he was getting somewhere with this Holden Caulfield business. Everyone around him is trying to give him direction, but he doesn't want to hear it. The world's too confusing for him, so he spends the whole book trying to get away from the fact that he'll have to face life and grow up one day. He-

Shut up. Michael cut him off. Just shut the fuck up.

Jason watched as the other killer got up and went to sit on the couch. In a second he could hear the sound of the T.V. Playing.

After that incident, Jason decided to permanently pack away his books. He hid them under the couch, because he couldn't read The Catcher in the Rye without Myers' face coming to his mind.

Jason entered the apartment. It was late, one in the morning, and it didn't seem like anyone was home. The group had decided to split up that night, to go out and do their own thing. In other words, to satisfy their own murderous instincts. This hand meant that Freddy went into his dream-world to kill teenagers, Ghostface had left to make stalker-like phone calls, and presumably Myers had ran off to do whatever it was he did for fun. Jason grinned to himself as he closed the apartment door behind him.

He probably does something stupid, like carves pumpkins.

With this thought, he prepared himself for bed. This included nothing more than kicking off his shoes and socks, and throwing his old, musty shirt into the building pile of dirty clothes that sat on the floor next to the door. He should really make Ghostface wash all that tomorrow. Smiling to himself Jason switched on the T.V., found a nature program, and wandered over to the bathroom. He had to piss.

As soon as he opened the door he realized that he'd made a mistake. There, standing in front of the mirror was Myers. He was staring at himself in a mirror, maskless and shirtless, sobbing. When he realized that someone was watching him, he quickly gasped and made a crude attempt to cover his face with his hands.

What the fuck?! Voorhees, don't you ever knock?!

I-I'm sorry! He thought, shutting the door quickly. He was panting hard, though he didn't know why. His heart was beating impossibly fast as he shook himself and slid onto the cold floor. I didn't think anyone was here.

Didn't you see the light on under the door?

I'm sorry...

It was all he could think as he sat with his back against the door. After a moment of silence a question came. J-Jason...?

Yeah?

Did you...see my face?

Um...should he lie? Before he could think of what to do, the answer had already slipped out. Yeah.

Oh.

In an instant the door had unlocked and Michael had stepped out of the bathroom. His mask was back on and he was still shirtless, but Jason barley noticed. His mind couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen. Why the hell did Myers even wear a mask? Voorhees had thought it was because after so many movies with abuse and torture, Michael's face was a wreck, but it was the exact opposite. He was...

Jason swallowed and stood up, his hands behind his back. He approached Michael and tentatively placed a hand on his skinny shoulder. Listen, I'm sorr-

You already said that, and I get it. You're sorry you saw my face, and now you're going to go and tell Krueger and Ghostface how ugly I am and-

What the hell are you talking about? Ugly? Jason began making a gurgling noise, one which we all associate now with him laughing. Michael crossed his arms over his bare, thin chest.

So now you're laughing at me? Great, thanks.

No, you don't get it! Jason thought, shaking his head. You're not ugly, Myers! You're face, it's fucking perfect! I'm ugly! This—he motioned to his face—is ugly, but you...you're damn perfect.

Michael glared at him like he was making a joke and tried to push him angrily. This only earned him a pat on the head; Jason smiled to himself as he went and sat on the couch. Ugly? Who did the younger killer think he was fooling with that crap? There was no way that Myers could really think of himself like that.

Show me your face. Michael thought suddenly, jumping on the couch next to Jason and reaching for the other killer's mask. This made Voorhees jump back and slap away Myers' hand.

Don't you dare touch my mask!

Well you saw my face, now you're laughing at it, so I get to see yours! Here, I'll help you! Michael's fingers found their way to the straps on Jason's mask and tried in vain to undo them. This made the bigger killer tackle him to the ground. The two rolled around, biting and kicking for a while before Michael broke away, tears leaking from the corners of his white mask. He shook his head at Voorhees.

You're such an asshole!

Hey, I said I was sorry! There's no reason to show you my face just because-

Fine, you know what?! Here, you win! Michael's thin fingers unclasped his rubber mask. It fell from his young face, and he threw it angrily over at Jason. Even more tears flowed down the killer's cheeks as he flung himself on the ground and thought, more to himself than to anyone else, I'm a fucking monster...everyone knows it...

Jason carefully crawled over to him and put his large hand on Michael's small shoulder. Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry, okay. Look, maybe one day when you really, really need it, I'll let you wear my mask, okay?

Please just let me see. Michael thought. Jason shook his head stubbornly, and suddenly he found that the young killer was nearly in his lap, pressing his hands against the crude hockey mask that shielded his face from the world. Jason swallowed hard and looked deep into Michael's eyes, seeing him in a way that nobody had in years.

Myers, his twenty-one year-old face which should've been so bright and happy like usual, was tear-stained. It also looked like he had skipped shaving for a few days, much to Jason's disapproval. He roughly passed a finger along Michael's jawline and thought softly, You should shave.

Suddenly Michael began smiling, then laughing. Really? You see my face for the first time in ever, and you tell me to shave?! You're so dumb!

They both began laughing nervously, then honestly. Jason pulled Michael closer and passed a quick hand along his shadowed cheek. Seriously, it doesn't fit you. You look too adult.

Michael shrugged his bony shoulders, letting some of his naturally wavy, brown hair fall into his face. He looked utterly shaggy. Jason had to bite his tongue not to say anything else that might make the young killer self-conscious again. He just withdrew his hand from Michael's face and sat back awkwardly. What to do now? Those weird, mushy feelings were coming back to him, and he didn't get it. What could he do? Part of him wanted to hold Myers close, but another part of him rejected that idea. It was sick and unrefined. No serial killer had ever truly loved another like that. He went to playfully push Michael away, but instead his hand found its way into the other slasher's wild, soft hair. Jason sat there like that for a while, unsure, letting his hand feel Myers' unkempt hair for a while before he gave up.

I'm sorry, Myers. You'll probably hate me for this... with that thought, he pulled the other killer closer to him and pressed his face into his hair. He smelled it gently, smiling under his mask.

Suddenly Michael thought, Now take off your mask.

Jason's eyes grew wide. N-No...I can't...

But...

Please don't ask me to do that, damn it! Jason began hugging Myers bone-crushingly tight and buried his face in his hair. I just can't, okay? He closed his eyes and smelled the other slasher's hair; why did it smell so flowery? He made a mental note to notice what shampoo the other killer used tomorrow.

That's fine. You don't have to take yours off, but you should at least look at me. Damn, you're making me feel like shit.

Jason met his gaze. Slowly Michael smiled. It made Jason begin to breathe heavily—what was he feeling?! He couldn't handle it...things were going very wrong very fast. Still he sat, spell bound, and watched as Michael shyly ran a hand through his natural, unruly brown hair. His smile was slightly crooked, his brown eyes so full of life. He didn't realize it as the younger killer leaned closer and closer to him—they were so close to each other that Jason could feel the other killer's warm breath against his mask. Michael quickly pressed his lips to the mouth-part of Jason's mask. Though it only lasted a moment, that was all Voorhees needed; he felt Michael's warm, soft lips pressing through the holes of his mask. The shock was enough to make him reel back and push Myers away. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever before Jason jumped to his feet, his eyes wide in panic. Michael frowned at this reaction and went to grab the other killer's hand, but was swatted away.

What the hell is wrong with you? Myers thought edgily, crossing his arms over his chest. His face was pouty and sad.

Jason's eye was twitching, his mind racing. What were these feelings racing through him? He was breathing hard as his mind short-circuited. He looked around for a way out. Gotta kill something...

Wait, what? The younger killer got up and tried to pull Jason into an embrace, but got nothing more than a punch in the gut. He doubled over and thought painfully, Ow...why, Jason?

I'm sorry, but I have to kill you now. Jason thought madly, unsheathing his machete. Michael backed away, frowning in confusion.

What?! Why? All I did was-

I-I'm confused...there are these things...inside me...feelings? He ran a nervous hand over his beaten hockey mask and began to tremble. I have to kill you so everything will be normal—sorry. I just...no other way...too many things inside me...

Things? What things?

F-Feelings...

Suddenly Myers understood. His face adopted a look of understanding and he patted Jason's shoulder. When the older killer backed away shakily, he thought calmly, Okay, Jason, it's perfectly normal. Feelings are normal to have, okay?

N-No, no, no, not for me! I only feel anger and hate and...and...

Michael flashed Jason an adorable smile, and this only made the bigger killer even more confused. He wasn't used to seeing Myers' face like this. It made him feel strange, like the pit of his stomach was on fire, and he tried to stab the other killer in response to these feelings. When Michael dodged the clumsy attack, Jason backed away towards the door of the apartment.

No, Jason! Don't go! Michael thought desperately.

Jason ignored this plea and thought back, I have to go do something—I'm need to kill someone...before I kill you...I'll be back later!

But wait!

It was too late, though. Jason had already slammed the door behind him. Myers sighed and looked down on the floor, to where his mask laid. It stared back up at him, taunting him. You'll have to put me back on soon, and then you'll start hating yourself all over again! It seemed to say to him. Michael frowned and kicked it to the side before making his way over to the fridge and getting himself a beer. He itched his flat stomach and drank the whole thing, then burped loudly.

Had Jason mentioned something about killing him? Michael shook his head and flopped onto the couch lazily. He may not have been the sharpest knife in the serial killer drawer, but at least he could undoubtedly cope with his feelings better than Jason Voorhees could.

Oh well, he thought, flipping on the T.V. and drinking some more beer. So much for that. If I try anything again he probably really will kill me.

It was odd that out of everything in the world Myers could have done, he'd shown his face to Jason Voorhees. In the slasher world, when one masked serial killer exposed his face to another killer, it meant that they became bonded in a very special way, a way that very few had been bonded before. It was sort of like an unyielding destiny-bond that the two became intertwined in. They would always be in each others lives, no matter what. They would become—in most cases resentfully—best friends. This process, one which Michael had initiated without knowing it, was called locking. Although neither Jason Voorhees nor Michael Myers knew it, they were now locked.

**A/N**

It should be noted that, as per the previous nightmare sequence, this is purely for reader enjoyment and NON-CANON to the series at hand. The only part of this little chapter that will be used is the concept of 'locking'. I introduced it here because I felt that it would be a good opportunity to explain it in detail. So, using this theory, this means that Michael is locked with Jason—he took his mask off at Camp Crystal Lake—and yes, Ghostface is indeed locked with Pinhead. Oh, the angst. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. In case you are curious, pictures of Michael's unmasked face in the original Halloween was portrayed by a man by the name of Tony Moran. Take a look here:

.

He was really a cutie.