Sister Penelope is an OC that I made up. I do not own the Halloween franchise.

NOTE: There will probably be grammar mistakes which I will fix later.

"I met him fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding and even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, of good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six year old child with this blank, pale, emotionless face, and the blackest eyes, the Devil's eyes."

Smith's Grove Sanitarium

1963

"He's only six? My God."

"God has long abandoned him, Sister."

Sister Penelope, who was twenty-seven years old at the time, followed Dr. Loomis down the halls of the asylum to the room of Michael Myers. When they told her how Michael brutally murdered his own sister Judith Myers with a kitchen knife, she couldn't believe that a child so young could do such a horrible thing. Based on what she read in his files, he came from a fairly decent family. His parents weren't neglectful or abusive toward him, and they went to church every Sunday. Those who knew Mr. and Mrs. Myers confirmed that they were good parents to both Michael and Judith. So what could've possibly driven this boy to do what he did on Halloween night?

They were now standing at Michael's door, and as Loomis reached for the handle, he gave Penelope a grim look. "He may be a boy, but if he's capable of taking someone else's life without remorse, then we must be extremely cautious."

She nodded and held her breath as the door slowly opened. The first thing she saw in that room was the small frame of a boy sitting in a chair and staring out the large window. Even as they both walked in and their footsteps echoed, Michael didn't turn around to look at them. He didn't even move a muscle. He just sat there in his chair, completely still like a doll.

"Michael, someone is here to see you," Loomis said, then nodded at Penelope, who slowly approached the boy with caution.

"Hello, Michael," she said softly. "I'm Sister Penelope. I'm a nun who works here." As she got closer, she could see blonde curly hair. "I'll be taking care of you until you are well again."

She stood at his left side and got a better look at him. He had a face that seemed angelic and innocent, and with his curly blonde hair, he looked like a cherub. A sweet, little cherub. She quickly forgot why he was sent here in the first place and reached to stroke his soft hair.

But before she could touch him, Michael slowly turned his head in a way that seemed mechanical and locked eyes with her. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she looked into the dark abyss that bore no soul. Just emptiness. And something else. Something that sent chills down her spine and into her heart.

For what seemed like an eternity, he stared at her without any emotion, and eventually, Penelope got a hold of herself and hurried over to the door, slamming it behind her.

Loomis was already waiting for her in the halls and gently touched the nun on the shoulder as she pressed her hand against her chest and breathed heavily. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him with eyes full of fear. "His eyes," she gasped softly. "There was nothing in his eyes."

He slowly nodded. "I know. The nurses are too frightened to even go near him, and that's why we came to you for help. The Sisterhood claims that you are the best with children. But I understand if you feel that you can't do this-"

"No!" she snapped as she whirled around to face him. Then she said calmly, "No. No, Dr. Loomis. I have a duty to God and to this boy. It's obvious that he's a troubled soul and I won't turn away from this. I was just...caught off guard." She glanced over at the door and clasped the crucifix that hung from her necklace. "He's only a child. How are his parents taking this?"

"Well, they have disowned him," Loomis said with a bit of sadness. "They dropped him off here with no intention of letting him back into their house, or their lives, even after he is cured. They are afraid of their own child. Now how often do you hear that from parents?"

Penelope felt her break for Michael. "So he has no one. Poor thing."

"While I'm grateful to you for taking this job, Sister, I must also warn you to be careful around Michael. I will try to reach him, but I can't guarantee that I will succeed. Only time will tell."

The nun nodded and reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it. Michael was still sitting in his chair with his back to her, staring out the window. She quietly closed the door behind her and walked up to him. He completely ignored her even as she lovingly put her hand on his shoulder.

Through the door window, Loomis watched the two for a while before he headed down the halls, silently wishing Penelope luck.

...

"You have to eat, Michael."

Penelope pushed the plate of mashed potatoes, meatloaf, and green peas further toward Michael, who just sat at the other end of the table and stared at his dinner. He hadn't eaten since the night he murdered Judith and was committed, yet he refused to take a bite out of anything they offered him.

"Come on, Michael," Penelope tried again, picking up her own fork and digging it into her mashed potatoes. She kept her eyes on him as she took a bite and chewed slowly with a smile on her face. "Mmmmm...it's very good." She scooped up some more and pushed it to Michael's lips. "Try it."

But Michael kept his mouth shut, even as the warm mushy food touched his lips and the tempting aroma filled his nostrils.

Penelope sighed softly as she lowered the fork and put it down next to her plate. "Michael, please. If you don't eat something, you'll die. What good would that do?"

Suddenly, without saying a word, Michael picked up his fork and held it over his meatloaf. Penelope held her breath, hoping that he would finally eat his meal, but to her dismay, he just started to lightly stab at it.

"Michael, don't play with your food," she scolded, though she kept her tone soft.

Michael started to stab the meat a little harder, then to Penelope's horror, he became aggressive and the table began to shake as he attacked his food with no mercy and with so much rage.

"Michael!" Penelope ran to the other end of the table and grabbed a hold of his arms, but for a six year old, Michael was surprisingly strong and she struggled to keep him still. "Michael, stop! Michael! Mi-AAH!" She cried out in pain as Michael suddenly stabbed her in the arm with the fork and let go of him. He had stabbed hard enough to draw a bit of blood, but it wasn't life-threatening.

She quickly grabbed a napkin and pressed it over her wound, and when she looked back down at Michael, the boy was looking at her with the same emotionless expression, but he tilted his head a bit in a curious manner. She sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Michael," she said through gritted teeth. "You hurt me."

Very slowly, Michael got up from his chair and pulled the napkin away, studying the wound he inflicted upon her. He seemed very intrigued with the blood that was seeping through her neckerchief and lifted his finger to touch it, but Penelope stepped back and continued to put pressure on it with napkin.

"No, no, no, don't touch it, Michael," she said softly. "Just...eat your supper." She hurried to the door and shut it behind her. She stood in the hall and closed her eyes as she let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. "God, give me strength," she mumbled. "Or else I'll stab him with a fork."

About thirty minutes later, afte she cleaned the wound and changed her neckerchief, she returned to Michael's room and he was still in his seat. But to her surprise and delight, his plate had been licked clean. "Oh, you've finished. Good." She smiled warmly at him and patted him on the back before picking up his plate and hers. "That makes me happy, Michael. Very happy."

...

"Has your sister ever done anything to make you angry, Michael? Enough to make you want to hurt her?"

Dr. Loomis and Michael sat at the table the very next morning, and the psychiatrist asked his young patient several questions with a tape recorder. But Michael remained silent and merely stared at him with cold eyes. Penelope stood at the other side of the room and watched the entire session, and in her hands was a plain paper bag.

"Michael, please," Loomis implored. "I can't help you unless you let me in." When he got no response, he looked over at Penelope and shook his head with a soft sigh. "I suppose we'll try again tomorrow," he said to Michael as he stood up and headed to the door with his recorder and notepad.

Once he was gone, Penelope walked over to the table and placed the bag in front of Michael. "I have a surprise for you, Michael." She reached into the bag and pulled out a light brown teddy bear with blue button eyes. She held it out to him to take, but he didn't move a muscle so she placed it in his lap. "His name is Thomas, and he needs a friend, too."

Michael looked down at the bear and picked it up, studying its features and running his fingers through its fluffy fur.

"He's soft, isn't he?" Penelope asked. "Do you like him, Michael?"

But then the boy grabbed a hold of the bear's head and with one tug, he completely ripped it off. He then pulled out all the stuffing and dropped it onto the floor, leaving nothing but a rag that hung limp in his hands.

Penelope rubbed her temples and shook her head. In all her years, she had never met a child so destructive and stubborn. "Alright, I'll go get the broom."

So what do you think so far...? :/