Disclaimer: I don't own Halloween or anything from the books, movies or anything else really... though the characters I bring to life are my own

Black, White & Gray

Prologue

Fall - 1983

It was raining cats and dogs this morning, at least that's what it looked like from the windshield of her old beat up hunk of junk someone might have once called a car. The engine rumbled like an asthmatic old smoker, the radio had been dead probably long before she was even born nineteen years ago, the wheels screeched at every turn and the drive shaft groaned every time there was even a slightest bump or tremor. The driver hoped it would at least get her to her destination in one piece. It was almost completely dark outside because of the storm clouds and mist. She could barely make out her own headlights, much less anything else. Gripping the steering wheel and leaning forward to try and see the road better, Christine groaned as the engine sputtered and smoke billowed out in front of her. "You've got to be kidding me…"

She barely managed to ease her lemon colored nightmare off the road before the car died completely. Gritting her teeth, she fought the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. God she hated this piece of crap. Grabbing the huge bag sitting beside her, she almost climbed into it to find her watch. She already knew she was behind schedule, but the important question was how much? Pushing the wisps of hair escaping her bun out of her eyes, she flipped the antique gentlemen's watch open and stifled a growl – it read three thirty - the battery was dead. "Perfect, just fleeting perfect!" Throwing the useless hunk of metal back into the bag, she grabbed the map from the dash, her coat from the back seat, and then just sat there dejectedly staring out the driver's side window at the downpour "I seriously don't want to…" but she had to. She was already late for her first day as an intern at the Sanitarium, and from what she could tell over the phone, her new boss would definitely give her a hard time about it. Shrugging on her coat, she took a deep breath, clutched her oversized bag and jumped out of the car into almost freezing rain.

She was shivering and soaked before she could make it more than thirty feet down the road. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to envision a sunny beach to keep her teeth from their violent chattering. It didn't help. After what seemed like endless hours of walking, but were in fact fifteen or so minutes, Christine could make out a large building in the distance. A wave of relief washed through her when she got nearer. She stopped beside a plaque in front of the building, reading "Ridgemont Sanitarium" She'd made it. Looking at the structure for a moment, she winced slightly at how depressing it looked, especially on a day like this. Though to be honest, she didn't think it would improve in sunlight. Nothing could really improve a mental institution.

Catching sight of her appearance in the glass door, Christine silently hoped they wouldn't mistake her for a patient. She looked a mess; mud was splattered up to her knees like she'd been trudging through a muddy field instead of a roadside, she was dripping more water than a leaky faucet and her once tight professional bun was completely nonexistent. Giving a loud sneeze and pushing the hair out face, she jammed a shaking finger into the button next to the door. After a few moments a short and balding security guard sauntered to the portal and stopped in his tracks for a split second at the sight of her, before hurriedly unlocking and pushing the door open. "Jesus missy! Yer soaked! Get in here before you freeze to yer bones out there!" before she could move two steps on her own, the security guard grabbed her hand and pulled her in.

Stumbling for a second, Christine caught herself and sighed as the warmth from the heated building seeped into her chilled bones. Turning to the guard, she smiled shakily "Thanks. My car died down the road and I had to walk a bit to get here." pushing her hand out, she grinned "I'm Christine Fields, one of the new intern nurses." The guard eyed her for a moment before shaking her hand "I'm Jed. I work mornin' shifts here at Ridgemont." giving her a half smile, he continued "Yer a bit late missy, the other two interns are already taking the tour of the facility with Doc. Wilde." That didn't surprise her, the Doc.- her boss, didn't seem like an understanding or patient man from what she'd heard. What he was doing working in a mental institution, she had no clue. The guard cleared his throat "I'm thinkin' you need a hot shower and a change of clothes. Mavis will have my hide in a splint if I let you drip all over this place. Follow me."

Giving the guard a gratefully smile, she silently followed him through the halls wondering who Mavis was. All thoughts were dismissed as soon as they neared a door with "Locker Room" written on it. A shower was just what she needed right now. Christine was thankful she remembered to stuff her uniform into her bag before leaving her apartment this morning. Opening the door for her, the guard motioned for her to get in "I'll be goin' on my rounds now and I'll send someone to escort you to the group later." he pointed to the other side of the room before stepping out "The showers are through that door." Giving him a polite nod, Christine muttered a quiet "Thanks Jed." and waited for the door to close behind him before moving through the one he indicted.

Looking around the sterile white tiles, she was a bit unnerved by the eerie silence of the place, though on the other hand it was probably better then hearing people scream. Peeling off her sopping garments, she moved quickly and methodically through her shower, for some reason wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. After about twenty minutes, she found herself outside the locker room door again, wondering where her promised escort was. Being sometimes a bit impatient by nature, she shrugged and started walking down the halls; sure she'd bump into one of the nurses or doctors on the way.

While on her own private tour, she was more than a little surprised that most of the main doors to certain levels opened easily, she would have expected there to be more security then this. Reading the tags on the locked doors of different patients and perusing a few of the files that hung next to the secured metal plates. She paused a few feet from a door that read "Michael Myers" and almost dropped the folder she was holding in surprise -there was a key in the lock. Replacing the forgotten file, she carefully moved forward. Christine's heart pounded in her chest as she touched the cold handle. A part of her mind screamed at her not to open the door. God only knew what kind of unstable person was behind it! Doors after all, were locked for a reason, especially in a place like this.

Staring at the lock, she whispered "If it's locked, you leave it alone Chris…" Silently cursing her newfound curiosity, she slowly lowered the handle, tugged lightly and stopped breathing as the door opened a fraction. Christine hesitated, looking around as she debated whether to go in or not "No one's here to see me. Just a peek can't hurt…right?" taking a deep breath she slipped into the room.

There wasn't much light coming through the tiny barred window even though it was still morning. Looking around the small cell, she absently noted there was no furniture in it at all, only a bed in the middle of the room and an IV stand next to it. Keeping the door ajar in case she needed to escape quickly, Christine slowly stepped to the bed and the huge man lying there sleeping. The first thing she noticed was the fact that he was restrained, his hands and feet tied to the iron bed with leather and chain strips. She wondered why. Only now realizing she hadn't checked his file before entering, for all she knew he was dangerous or a psychopath. Her brows furrowed, she usually wasn't this impulsive or reckless, there was just… a pull. She almost snorted out loud at that thought.

She stood there in indecision for a few moments, not sure if she dared to step closer and see his face. Something in the back of her mind urged her to move forward, just two more steps…she chalked it up to stupidity. From where she stood she could see he was very tall, probably more than six feet, with light brown hair to his shoulders and the shadow of a beard. It was obvious he was well taken care of by the staff. She wasn't sure when she moved exactly, but she suddenly found herself giving a surprised gasp. The left side of his face was burned, from his cheek to his temple, half of his eyebrow missing. The flesh was slightly puckered and red in a few small patches but otherwise healed. He had a lot of scars all over, thin white slashes everywhere, even down his neck. She'd bet he had them all over his body too. But even with all those imperfections, she could tell he was handsome. She stared at high and defined cheekbones, a firm jaw line, broad brow, and a straight nose with only a slight bump from being broken. What really fascinated her though were his lips - thin, firm and tempting.

Christine's whole body jolted back at the last though. Was she nuts? She couldn't think like that of a patient! Turning to the door to leave, she made the mistake of looking back at him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was leaning over him again. Reaching her hand out tentatively, Christine ran her fingers over his smooth cheek and through his hair, whispering "Who are you Michael? Why do you make me feel so reckless?" Why was he here? What had he done? Was he getting better? Her whole thought process died as her eyes moved to his –he was looking at her. Christine's whole body stilled, her hand still entwined in his hair, only a breath escaped her "Michael?"

Her head snapped to the door, she could hear faint voices. Removing her hand swiftly, she glanced at him and frowned in confusion. His eyes were closed and he was just as she first found him. Had she imagined it? Not having time to ponder this, she ran to the door and through it, locking it hurriedly behind herself before scrambling behind a corner. Her pulse was racing a mile a minute. She sagged against the wall, thankful they didn't catch her. They probably would have fired her on the spot for being here without an escort or authorization for that matter.

She could hear the voice of Doctor Wilde speaking to the interns "Well now, we've come to the third level. Here we keep all patients under lock and key at all times. They are one of the most disturbed and dangerous." Christine barely breathed as she listened in rapt attention. "One of our more notorious patients is the mass murderer Michael Myers, also known as the Boogeyman." Her heart almost stopped at that. She couldn't believe it, he looked so…normal. "Michael has been here for five years now in a comatose state. The patient has no response from stimuli, therefore there is a very good chance he will never wake up." Christine couldn't help the slight sadness that pulsed through her. But in the end it was for the best, right? Michael was what he was… "Before being brought here, he was the patient of Doctor Samuel Loomis at Smith's Grove Sanitarium in Warren County. If you have any questions about Myers read Loomis's little fiction novel." she didn't understand or like the snicker in his voice.

Hearing the shuffling of feet, Christine quickly moved from the wall and walked around the corner in their direction, plastering a relieved yet embarrassed look on her face, sighing "Oh, I found you! Dr. Wilde, my name is Christine Fields. Please forgive my being late. I had some trouble getting here." The relatively young doctor looked her over in what she could only describe as an insulting perusal before speaking "I see. Well, Miss Fields, I expect this will not be a reoccurring theme with you?" Christine glanced at her feet for a moment before meeting his smirking gaze "Of course not Dr. Wilde. This was only a onetime thing sir." Lowering her head, she moved to the back of the group of interns standing behind him, missing the flash of interest that ignited for a split second in the good doctors gaze before his usual know-it-all-and-bored-with-it look replaced it. As the group moved forward down the hall, Christine glanced back at a particular door with a sad smile. How she wished life could be different sometimes…