Post by piggsy on Aug 19, 2007 17:45:13 GMT -5
Halloween: Evil Comes Home
Dr. Sam Loomis awoke abruptly from his unexpected nap at his desk. Breathing heavily, he walked to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He reached in and pulled out one of the many bottles of pills within. He swallowed two of the blue pills and sighed. He splashed some water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror.
After a few minutes, he returned to his desk. Numerous documents were piled and strewn about it. It was unusual for him to be so unorganized, being how he is a famous psychiatrist. Loomis grabbed a file out of a stack of papers and browsed through it. As he turned a page, some photographs fell out. He picked them up and looked through them. One was of a small boy sitting in a grey room, looking out of the window. His eyes were startlingly black, like the eyes of Satan himself.
The phone rang, echoing through the dark appartment. Loomis grabbed the receiver and picked it up. "Dr. Sam Loomis speaking", he said. "Hello, Sam. We need you to come down to Haddonfield", the policeman on the other line replied. Sam's eyes widened as he responded, with a slight tremble in his voice, "You should know not to play Halloween pranks on me". The policeman grumbled, "Sam, there's been a double homocide. There's strong evidence that your patient, Michael Myers, has some kind of connection to it. Loomis glanced at the photo of the small boy and slammed the receiver down.
Haddonfield was unusually quiet that late October afternoon. The houses that lined the streets seemed barren. Since Halloween had been banned there for over ten years, there were no decorations up. Not even a lone Jack-O-Lantern. a black car sped down the hot, gravel road toward the crime scene. There were about three police cars surrounding a ditch. Dr. Loomis stepped out of the black car and hobbled toward the grisly sight. A tall policeman guided him to the bodies.
"Dear God", Loomis remarked. Two corpses lay close to eachother in the ditch. One had a deeply slashed throat, and the other had been stabbed in the chest multiple times. Camping gear was peppered about the scene. "What do you make of it, Loomis?", the policeman said as he chewed on a piece of gum. Sam looked up at him gravely. Then, he looked at the surrounding forest filled with dead trees. "He came home".
Meanwhile, a man stood outside of the Myers house. The house that provided nightmares for local children for decades. The house where a young Michael Myers stabbed his older sister to death in the early 1960's. The man smiled and walked down the cracked sidewalk toward Strode Realty Incorporated. He opened the front door and stepped into the lobby. "What's your name, sir?", the female receptionist asked. "Jeffrey Harris", the man replied. The receptionist looked through her book of appointments. "Yes, you're here to discuss purchasing the Myers residence". Jeff nodded.
John, the manager, stepped out from another door in the room and quickly spotted Jeff. "Hello, Mr. Harris", he said while motioning for him to go to his office. Jeff sat down near a desk in the elegant-looking office. Mr. Strode sat down at the desk opposite him. "Now, let's get down to business", said Strode. "Before we can make this agreement, I'm going to need you to sign this paper", as he pulled a document out of a drawer on his desk. Jeff took it and began to look it over. Strode laughed casually. "As you know, the Myers residence has had a bad history". Jeff nodded. Strode continued, "Signing this paper insures that if something unfortunate were to happen there to you, it won't be held against us". Suddenly, Jeff noticed a figure move swiftly past the window outside. "Sir?", Strode asked. Jeff focused his attention back on the paper and signed it.
Dr. Loomis stood in the coroner's office, along with a few policemen, and the two corpses. The coroner came in and shook hands with them. "I don't get it", one of the officers remarked. "There hasn't been a trace of Michael Myers around here for years!". Loomis glared at him. "When Michael was a boy, he was a model patient. He never spoke, never acknowledged I was there. He was always watching, waiting". The coroner looked at the bodies, then back at Loomis. "Perhaps there's some kind of copycat killer on the loose", he thought out loud.
Back at Strode Realty, Jeff had just left with the key to the Myers house. The receptionist in the lobby began to laugh to herself. "Why would he want to own that place anyway?", she thought. She yelled back to Mr. Strode, "I'm going to get out and get some coffee, you want any?". "No thanks", he replied. She shrugged, grabbed her purse, and approached the door. As she was walking across the parking lot, she couldn't help but think she was being watched. She opened the door to her car and got inside. Much to her surprise, there was some kind of red liquid on the steering wheel. "Is that...blood!?", she shrieked. A figure sprang from the back seat and grabbed her by the throat. She saw the face of her attacker in the rear-view mirror. A man in a dirty, white mask. A blade penetrated her stomache, spurting blood onto the dashboard. She screamed, but was silenced by his hand. The life faded out of her. The last thing she heard was heavy breathing.
Jeff Harris looked over his new purchase. He opened the door with the key, and the hinges squeaked loudly. The smell that emitted from the home was horrible. He was surprised by the amount of mold on the walls, and how many decaying animals were strewn about the floor. "I'm gonna have to do a lot of cleaning", he said to himself while inspecting the rooms. He began to walk up the stairs, when his foot broke through the decrepit wood. He immediately backed away, and a rat scurried out of the hole and into another room. He made his way up the stairs again, this time without fault. Ahead of him was a hallway, which he reluctantly approached.
To the left of him was the infamous room that once belonged to Judith Myers. There were still pieces of police tape on the floor surrounding it. It was October 31st, 1963. Judith sat next to the window, brushing her hair. Her brother, Michael, wearing a clown mask and wielding a butcher knife, snuck into the room without her noticing. He plunged the knife into her again and again, despite her cries of pain. That was the night that began the terror that would haunt Haddonfield forever.
Jeff felt a chill go up and down his spine as he imagined what happened in the now-barren room. He thought that if he was going to turn this place into a tourist attraction, he had better clean it thoroughly and make sure that there was nobody hiding in the house. Some fright, however, was a small price to pay considering how many people would be willing take a tour through the house of Michael Myers. The house of the Boogeyman.
Dr. Loomis burst into the lobby of Strode Realty. "Hello?!", he yelled. He hadn't noticed the receptionist was missing, as John Strode came out of his office. "What? What's going on here?", he asked in confusion. Loomis holstered his pistol and grabbed him by the arm and said, "He's here". "Who's here?", John asked. Loomis looked out the windows of the lobby and around the room. "Michael Myers ", he gasped. John laughed heartily. Loomis glared at him, and he stopped laughing. "Are you crazy? Myers has been dead for years!", he replied with a smirk.
"I've seen two bodies in this town, Mr. Strode", Loomis growled. "I know Michael better than anyone, and I'm telling you he's back to finish what he's started!". John put his hand on Loomis's shoulder and explained, "Even in the chance that he's alive, there's no reason for him to kill again. Laurie's dead. Jamie Lloyd's dead. There's no one else!". Loomis began to think back to 1996. There was a baby. Tommy Doyle brought it in to him in that hospital. That was the last of Michael's family. That child was the last target.
Darkness washed over Haddonfield like a blanket of death. A mysterious car pulled up to the Myers house, and a silent man dressed in a black jumpsuit stepped out to admire the building. He cocked his head to the side, then walked towards the front door. He almost seemed to float, his movements so agile and premeditated. He noticed the door had been previously left open, and turned back to look at the houses lined up across the street. His face was void of any emotion or humanity. Almost as if it was a mask.
Jeff Harris was at his home, lying in bed, watching the black-and-white television that sat on the dresser on the other side of the room. The anchorman announced that three bodies were discovered in the local area, and that authorities are investigating whether this is an imitation of the slayings that occured throughout the last twenty years. Jeff looked concerned as he turned up the volume with his remote control. "Michael Audrey Myers, the infamous serial killer, has left an undying mark on this small town". "Ever since the holiday on which he would appear, Halloween, has been banned, there hasn't been a single murder", the anchorman said.
A knock on the door interrupted Jeff from the announcment. He sighed and sat up. More knocks. He yelled, "alright, alright, I'm coming!" and approached the door. When he opened it, Dr. Sam Loomis came in, gun in hand. "Who are you?", Jeff asked, rather surprised. "Don't you know what you've done?", Loomis bellowed. Jeff began to say something, but he interrupted him. "You've put the citizens of this town, especially a young child, in great danger!". Jeff thought this man was senile, or a drunk trying to cause trouble. Loomis warned, "I believe I need to tell you about Michael's past, his way of thinking, I may be able to save you".
Steven Lloyd just got off school. He was eleven-years-old. As he walked down the sidewalk, away from his 5th grade class, he met with a friend of his. They talked about their plans for the weekend, and other such things. They never noticed the man that watched quietly from behind the bushes. "I'll see you later", Steven's friend said as he walked away, toward his house. Unfortunately for him, to get to his house, he had to go near the bushes. The man grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face him. The boy shrieked in terror, until he realized it was the sherriff. "Eric, I don't want you to go near Steven anymore, okay?", the sherriff said bluntly. "Why?", the boy, Eric, asked. "Don't ask why, but if you hang around with him, you might get hurt", replied the sheriff.
Back at Jeff Harris's home, Dr. Loomis got done explaining the horrific situation they may face. "So, by buying his house, I brought Michael back?", Jeff asked. Loomis nodded, "That home is sacred to him. It holds his impulses, his rage". Jeff took a drink of the bottle of water he had near him. "Who's this boy you were talking about? This...Steven?". Loomis reached into the pocket of his trench coat and produced a photograph. A photograph of a baby. "He's the last of Michael's family. He carries the mark of the Thorn! Don't you see what this means? Michael will stop at nothing to get to this child, and he'll kill anyone in his way". Then, he looked gravely at Jeff.
Mr. Strode backed out of the parking lot at Strode Realty. He was extremely tired from all of the questioning from the police, after the body of the receptionist was found. He couldn't wait to go to his home and sleep. As he passed the Myers house, he was suspicious of the car parked in front of it. "That's not Jeffrey's car", he whispered to himself. He parked in the driveway next to the mysterious automobile. "Hello? Mr. Harris, are you here?", he said as he knocked on the door. Cautiously, he used a key he had to go inside. The interior was completely black. Black like Michael's eyes. Black like the devil's eyes. As he entered the home, an unexplainable fear came over him. The door slammed behind him, and a bloodied hand grabbed his throat. Strode gasped as he strained to see his attacker. Two thumbs plunged into his eye sockets with an inhuman ferocity. Strode cried out in pain and horror as his half-dead body was thrown to the ground. He was left there to bleed to death.
Dr. Sam Loomis sat in his car, with Jeff in the passenger's seat. "What are we going to do once we find Steven?", Jeff asked him. Loomis shifted his eyes from the windshield to his face. "We're going to take him to Michael's house. By now, Michael is most likely out looking for him". Jeff looked surprised. "What?! That's exactly what Michael wants!". Loomis explained, "We lure Michael home. In the meantime, a few policeman will be silently patrolling the house. As Michael goes for the boy, I call in the police, and they take Michael down....at least for now". "For now?", Jeff asked. "Evil never dies. Michael Myers is no longer a human. That part died of him when he killed his sister years ago", Loomis said. They pulled up to Steven's home, on the far side of town. The young boy answered. They had awoken him from his sleep. "Who are you?", Steven asked. Jeff was about to say something, but Loomis stopped him, as he said, "If you don't want to die, you should come with us".
Two policeman sat in a car behind the Myers house, in the dark, harsh forests. The officers were playing cards, as they awaited the psychiatrist to return. "Hey, what was that?", one of them asked as a shadow quickly passed over their car. "Probably some animal", the other said dismissively. A pitchfork slammed through the windshield and impaled one of the officer's throat. "Agh!", the other screamed as blood splashed onto his face. He didn't have a chance to fire his gun. Michael was to quick to stab him in the chest. He wiped the blood spatter from his mask, stuck the pitchfork into the ground, and walked away, almost casually.
Dr. Loomis parked in front of the house. He and Jeff got out, dragging Steven along. "What are you doing with me?!", Steven screeched as they pulled him along to the door. "Sssh, we don't want him to hear you yet", Loomis whispered angrily into his ear. They entered the house cautiously. Their feet hit against many dead animals and pieces of rotting wood on the floor as they walked. "Michael!", Loomis yelled. "We've got him! Come on Michael! You want him! You want the boy!", he continued to scream. Jeff flipped on a light switch, but it only slightly illuminated the room. It gave the room an even creepier aura, something Jeff thought impossible.
A figure stood at the top of the flight of the stairs. "It's him!", Jeff cried with fear. Dr. Loomis smiled. Steven trembled at the sight of murderer, who watched him with evil intent. Loomis took out a walkie talkie from his pocket and gave the signal for the police to arrive. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. Michael began to ascend down the stairs, butcher knife in hand. "No", Loomis said in frustration. He removed his pistol from the holster and began to fire at Michael. The bullets only seemed to anger the masked man. Steven ran off into another room, and Jeff grabbed a board from from the ground. He ran at Michael and brought it down fiercly at his head. The board broke in half, as it was rotting severely. Michael stuck his knife into his stomache. Jeff yelped, and Michael threw him down the stairs.
Jeff landed onto the wooden floor, half of his body sinking into the decaying boards. Dr. Loomis reloaded his pistol and fired three shots into Michael's eyes. The seemingly invincible killer had stopped in his tracks, trails of blood streaming from the holes in his mask. He began to breathe heavily, and dropped his knife. Loomis then ran to Jeff, who was badly injured, with a few teeth knocked out, and blood pouring out of his nose and mouth.
Meanwhile, Steven was hiding in a closet, shaking with fear. He had a hammer in his hand, which he found on the floor on the way there. A silence washed over the house. Steven, ever so slowly, opened the door. He approached the living room, and noticed there was nobody there. Just a few spatters of blood on the walls, and a large hole in the floor. He gasped and ran for the front door. He flung the door open, and to his horror, propped against the door, was the corpse of Dr. Loomis. The body fell to the ground, and behind it appeared Michael Myers. Steven screamed and backed away in shock. He held up his hammer and threw it at the evil that stood before him. Michael stopped, and cocked his head at the boy. Steven ran up the stairs in fear.
He ran to a bedroom, the bedroom that once belonged to Judith Myers, and hid inside. The lone window in the room was boarded up tightly. A boy as young as him wouldn't get the planks off in time. Footsteps sounded from the staircase. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Closer. Closer. Closer. Steven locked the door, even though he knew it would do no good. Michael grabbed at the doorknob and turned it. Silence. Suddenly, a blade penetrated through the door. Steven trembled and sat in a corner. The blade stabbed through the wood again and again. Then, a fist burst through, which grabbed the doorknob. The hand unlocked the door, and Michael stepped into the room, knife in hand.
"No!", Steven cried. The brooding mass of darkness with a white face came closer and closer. A yell rang forth from outside the room. "Get away from him!". Michael paused, staring at the frightened boy that sat ten feet away from him. Jeff stumbled into the room, bleeding profusely. Many of his teeth were missing, and his nose was twisted grotesquely. One of his legs was broken, the bone horrifically protruding from the flesh. Michael turned around, and raised his knife. Jeff ran as fast as he could at Michael, pushing them both out of the window, breaking the planks of wood on it. Jeff fought as much as he could at the assassin as they flew through the air. In an instant, they were both impaled on a thick, sharp, tree branch. Jeff mustered up enough energy to look into Michael's bleak eyes and screech, "Die!". Michael began to raise his weapon, but fell into unconsciousness, and dropped it onto the grass below. Blood dripped from the two bodies onto the knife, which gleamed in the moonlight.
Dr. Sam Loomis awoke abruptly from his unexpected nap at his desk. Breathing heavily, he walked to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He reached in and pulled out one of the many bottles of pills within. He swallowed two of the blue pills and sighed. He splashed some water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror.
After a few minutes, he returned to his desk. Numerous documents were piled and strewn about it. It was unusual for him to be so unorganized, being how he is a famous psychiatrist. Loomis grabbed a file out of a stack of papers and browsed through it. As he turned a page, some photographs fell out. He picked them up and looked through them. One was of a small boy sitting in a grey room, looking out of the window. His eyes were startlingly black, like the eyes of Satan himself.
The phone rang, echoing through the dark appartment. Loomis grabbed the receiver and picked it up. "Dr. Sam Loomis speaking", he said. "Hello, Sam. We need you to come down to Haddonfield", the policeman on the other line replied. Sam's eyes widened as he responded, with a slight tremble in his voice, "You should know not to play Halloween pranks on me". The policeman grumbled, "Sam, there's been a double homocide. There's strong evidence that your patient, Michael Myers, has some kind of connection to it. Loomis glanced at the photo of the small boy and slammed the receiver down.
Haddonfield was unusually quiet that late October afternoon. The houses that lined the streets seemed barren. Since Halloween had been banned there for over ten years, there were no decorations up. Not even a lone Jack-O-Lantern. a black car sped down the hot, gravel road toward the crime scene. There were about three police cars surrounding a ditch. Dr. Loomis stepped out of the black car and hobbled toward the grisly sight. A tall policeman guided him to the bodies.
"Dear God", Loomis remarked. Two corpses lay close to eachother in the ditch. One had a deeply slashed throat, and the other had been stabbed in the chest multiple times. Camping gear was peppered about the scene. "What do you make of it, Loomis?", the policeman said as he chewed on a piece of gum. Sam looked up at him gravely. Then, he looked at the surrounding forest filled with dead trees. "He came home".
Meanwhile, a man stood outside of the Myers house. The house that provided nightmares for local children for decades. The house where a young Michael Myers stabbed his older sister to death in the early 1960's. The man smiled and walked down the cracked sidewalk toward Strode Realty Incorporated. He opened the front door and stepped into the lobby. "What's your name, sir?", the female receptionist asked. "Jeffrey Harris", the man replied. The receptionist looked through her book of appointments. "Yes, you're here to discuss purchasing the Myers residence". Jeff nodded.
John, the manager, stepped out from another door in the room and quickly spotted Jeff. "Hello, Mr. Harris", he said while motioning for him to go to his office. Jeff sat down near a desk in the elegant-looking office. Mr. Strode sat down at the desk opposite him. "Now, let's get down to business", said Strode. "Before we can make this agreement, I'm going to need you to sign this paper", as he pulled a document out of a drawer on his desk. Jeff took it and began to look it over. Strode laughed casually. "As you know, the Myers residence has had a bad history". Jeff nodded. Strode continued, "Signing this paper insures that if something unfortunate were to happen there to you, it won't be held against us". Suddenly, Jeff noticed a figure move swiftly past the window outside. "Sir?", Strode asked. Jeff focused his attention back on the paper and signed it.
Dr. Loomis stood in the coroner's office, along with a few policemen, and the two corpses. The coroner came in and shook hands with them. "I don't get it", one of the officers remarked. "There hasn't been a trace of Michael Myers around here for years!". Loomis glared at him. "When Michael was a boy, he was a model patient. He never spoke, never acknowledged I was there. He was always watching, waiting". The coroner looked at the bodies, then back at Loomis. "Perhaps there's some kind of copycat killer on the loose", he thought out loud.
Back at Strode Realty, Jeff had just left with the key to the Myers house. The receptionist in the lobby began to laugh to herself. "Why would he want to own that place anyway?", she thought. She yelled back to Mr. Strode, "I'm going to get out and get some coffee, you want any?". "No thanks", he replied. She shrugged, grabbed her purse, and approached the door. As she was walking across the parking lot, she couldn't help but think she was being watched. She opened the door to her car and got inside. Much to her surprise, there was some kind of red liquid on the steering wheel. "Is that...blood!?", she shrieked. A figure sprang from the back seat and grabbed her by the throat. She saw the face of her attacker in the rear-view mirror. A man in a dirty, white mask. A blade penetrated her stomache, spurting blood onto the dashboard. She screamed, but was silenced by his hand. The life faded out of her. The last thing she heard was heavy breathing.
Jeff Harris looked over his new purchase. He opened the door with the key, and the hinges squeaked loudly. The smell that emitted from the home was horrible. He was surprised by the amount of mold on the walls, and how many decaying animals were strewn about the floor. "I'm gonna have to do a lot of cleaning", he said to himself while inspecting the rooms. He began to walk up the stairs, when his foot broke through the decrepit wood. He immediately backed away, and a rat scurried out of the hole and into another room. He made his way up the stairs again, this time without fault. Ahead of him was a hallway, which he reluctantly approached.
To the left of him was the infamous room that once belonged to Judith Myers. There were still pieces of police tape on the floor surrounding it. It was October 31st, 1963. Judith sat next to the window, brushing her hair. Her brother, Michael, wearing a clown mask and wielding a butcher knife, snuck into the room without her noticing. He plunged the knife into her again and again, despite her cries of pain. That was the night that began the terror that would haunt Haddonfield forever.
Jeff felt a chill go up and down his spine as he imagined what happened in the now-barren room. He thought that if he was going to turn this place into a tourist attraction, he had better clean it thoroughly and make sure that there was nobody hiding in the house. Some fright, however, was a small price to pay considering how many people would be willing take a tour through the house of Michael Myers. The house of the Boogeyman.
Dr. Loomis burst into the lobby of Strode Realty. "Hello?!", he yelled. He hadn't noticed the receptionist was missing, as John Strode came out of his office. "What? What's going on here?", he asked in confusion. Loomis holstered his pistol and grabbed him by the arm and said, "He's here". "Who's here?", John asked. Loomis looked out the windows of the lobby and around the room. "Michael Myers ", he gasped. John laughed heartily. Loomis glared at him, and he stopped laughing. "Are you crazy? Myers has been dead for years!", he replied with a smirk.
"I've seen two bodies in this town, Mr. Strode", Loomis growled. "I know Michael better than anyone, and I'm telling you he's back to finish what he's started!". John put his hand on Loomis's shoulder and explained, "Even in the chance that he's alive, there's no reason for him to kill again. Laurie's dead. Jamie Lloyd's dead. There's no one else!". Loomis began to think back to 1996. There was a baby. Tommy Doyle brought it in to him in that hospital. That was the last of Michael's family. That child was the last target.
Darkness washed over Haddonfield like a blanket of death. A mysterious car pulled up to the Myers house, and a silent man dressed in a black jumpsuit stepped out to admire the building. He cocked his head to the side, then walked towards the front door. He almost seemed to float, his movements so agile and premeditated. He noticed the door had been previously left open, and turned back to look at the houses lined up across the street. His face was void of any emotion or humanity. Almost as if it was a mask.
Jeff Harris was at his home, lying in bed, watching the black-and-white television that sat on the dresser on the other side of the room. The anchorman announced that three bodies were discovered in the local area, and that authorities are investigating whether this is an imitation of the slayings that occured throughout the last twenty years. Jeff looked concerned as he turned up the volume with his remote control. "Michael Audrey Myers, the infamous serial killer, has left an undying mark on this small town". "Ever since the holiday on which he would appear, Halloween, has been banned, there hasn't been a single murder", the anchorman said.
A knock on the door interrupted Jeff from the announcment. He sighed and sat up. More knocks. He yelled, "alright, alright, I'm coming!" and approached the door. When he opened it, Dr. Sam Loomis came in, gun in hand. "Who are you?", Jeff asked, rather surprised. "Don't you know what you've done?", Loomis bellowed. Jeff began to say something, but he interrupted him. "You've put the citizens of this town, especially a young child, in great danger!". Jeff thought this man was senile, or a drunk trying to cause trouble. Loomis warned, "I believe I need to tell you about Michael's past, his way of thinking, I may be able to save you".
Steven Lloyd just got off school. He was eleven-years-old. As he walked down the sidewalk, away from his 5th grade class, he met with a friend of his. They talked about their plans for the weekend, and other such things. They never noticed the man that watched quietly from behind the bushes. "I'll see you later", Steven's friend said as he walked away, toward his house. Unfortunately for him, to get to his house, he had to go near the bushes. The man grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face him. The boy shrieked in terror, until he realized it was the sherriff. "Eric, I don't want you to go near Steven anymore, okay?", the sherriff said bluntly. "Why?", the boy, Eric, asked. "Don't ask why, but if you hang around with him, you might get hurt", replied the sheriff.
Back at Jeff Harris's home, Dr. Loomis got done explaining the horrific situation they may face. "So, by buying his house, I brought Michael back?", Jeff asked. Loomis nodded, "That home is sacred to him. It holds his impulses, his rage". Jeff took a drink of the bottle of water he had near him. "Who's this boy you were talking about? This...Steven?". Loomis reached into the pocket of his trench coat and produced a photograph. A photograph of a baby. "He's the last of Michael's family. He carries the mark of the Thorn! Don't you see what this means? Michael will stop at nothing to get to this child, and he'll kill anyone in his way". Then, he looked gravely at Jeff.
Mr. Strode backed out of the parking lot at Strode Realty. He was extremely tired from all of the questioning from the police, after the body of the receptionist was found. He couldn't wait to go to his home and sleep. As he passed the Myers house, he was suspicious of the car parked in front of it. "That's not Jeffrey's car", he whispered to himself. He parked in the driveway next to the mysterious automobile. "Hello? Mr. Harris, are you here?", he said as he knocked on the door. Cautiously, he used a key he had to go inside. The interior was completely black. Black like Michael's eyes. Black like the devil's eyes. As he entered the home, an unexplainable fear came over him. The door slammed behind him, and a bloodied hand grabbed his throat. Strode gasped as he strained to see his attacker. Two thumbs plunged into his eye sockets with an inhuman ferocity. Strode cried out in pain and horror as his half-dead body was thrown to the ground. He was left there to bleed to death.
Dr. Sam Loomis sat in his car, with Jeff in the passenger's seat. "What are we going to do once we find Steven?", Jeff asked him. Loomis shifted his eyes from the windshield to his face. "We're going to take him to Michael's house. By now, Michael is most likely out looking for him". Jeff looked surprised. "What?! That's exactly what Michael wants!". Loomis explained, "We lure Michael home. In the meantime, a few policeman will be silently patrolling the house. As Michael goes for the boy, I call in the police, and they take Michael down....at least for now". "For now?", Jeff asked. "Evil never dies. Michael Myers is no longer a human. That part died of him when he killed his sister years ago", Loomis said. They pulled up to Steven's home, on the far side of town. The young boy answered. They had awoken him from his sleep. "Who are you?", Steven asked. Jeff was about to say something, but Loomis stopped him, as he said, "If you don't want to die, you should come with us".
Two policeman sat in a car behind the Myers house, in the dark, harsh forests. The officers were playing cards, as they awaited the psychiatrist to return. "Hey, what was that?", one of them asked as a shadow quickly passed over their car. "Probably some animal", the other said dismissively. A pitchfork slammed through the windshield and impaled one of the officer's throat. "Agh!", the other screamed as blood splashed onto his face. He didn't have a chance to fire his gun. Michael was to quick to stab him in the chest. He wiped the blood spatter from his mask, stuck the pitchfork into the ground, and walked away, almost casually.
Dr. Loomis parked in front of the house. He and Jeff got out, dragging Steven along. "What are you doing with me?!", Steven screeched as they pulled him along to the door. "Sssh, we don't want him to hear you yet", Loomis whispered angrily into his ear. They entered the house cautiously. Their feet hit against many dead animals and pieces of rotting wood on the floor as they walked. "Michael!", Loomis yelled. "We've got him! Come on Michael! You want him! You want the boy!", he continued to scream. Jeff flipped on a light switch, but it only slightly illuminated the room. It gave the room an even creepier aura, something Jeff thought impossible.
A figure stood at the top of the flight of the stairs. "It's him!", Jeff cried with fear. Dr. Loomis smiled. Steven trembled at the sight of murderer, who watched him with evil intent. Loomis took out a walkie talkie from his pocket and gave the signal for the police to arrive. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. Michael began to ascend down the stairs, butcher knife in hand. "No", Loomis said in frustration. He removed his pistol from the holster and began to fire at Michael. The bullets only seemed to anger the masked man. Steven ran off into another room, and Jeff grabbed a board from from the ground. He ran at Michael and brought it down fiercly at his head. The board broke in half, as it was rotting severely. Michael stuck his knife into his stomache. Jeff yelped, and Michael threw him down the stairs.
Jeff landed onto the wooden floor, half of his body sinking into the decaying boards. Dr. Loomis reloaded his pistol and fired three shots into Michael's eyes. The seemingly invincible killer had stopped in his tracks, trails of blood streaming from the holes in his mask. He began to breathe heavily, and dropped his knife. Loomis then ran to Jeff, who was badly injured, with a few teeth knocked out, and blood pouring out of his nose and mouth.
Meanwhile, Steven was hiding in a closet, shaking with fear. He had a hammer in his hand, which he found on the floor on the way there. A silence washed over the house. Steven, ever so slowly, opened the door. He approached the living room, and noticed there was nobody there. Just a few spatters of blood on the walls, and a large hole in the floor. He gasped and ran for the front door. He flung the door open, and to his horror, propped against the door, was the corpse of Dr. Loomis. The body fell to the ground, and behind it appeared Michael Myers. Steven screamed and backed away in shock. He held up his hammer and threw it at the evil that stood before him. Michael stopped, and cocked his head at the boy. Steven ran up the stairs in fear.
He ran to a bedroom, the bedroom that once belonged to Judith Myers, and hid inside. The lone window in the room was boarded up tightly. A boy as young as him wouldn't get the planks off in time. Footsteps sounded from the staircase. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Closer. Closer. Closer. Steven locked the door, even though he knew it would do no good. Michael grabbed at the doorknob and turned it. Silence. Suddenly, a blade penetrated through the door. Steven trembled and sat in a corner. The blade stabbed through the wood again and again. Then, a fist burst through, which grabbed the doorknob. The hand unlocked the door, and Michael stepped into the room, knife in hand.
"No!", Steven cried. The brooding mass of darkness with a white face came closer and closer. A yell rang forth from outside the room. "Get away from him!". Michael paused, staring at the frightened boy that sat ten feet away from him. Jeff stumbled into the room, bleeding profusely. Many of his teeth were missing, and his nose was twisted grotesquely. One of his legs was broken, the bone horrifically protruding from the flesh. Michael turned around, and raised his knife. Jeff ran as fast as he could at Michael, pushing them both out of the window, breaking the planks of wood on it. Jeff fought as much as he could at the assassin as they flew through the air. In an instant, they were both impaled on a thick, sharp, tree branch. Jeff mustered up enough energy to look into Michael's bleak eyes and screech, "Die!". Michael began to raise his weapon, but fell into unconsciousness, and dropped it onto the grass below. Blood dripped from the two bodies onto the knife, which gleamed in the moonlight.
