A/N~ This is my first story so take it easy on me :)
::Amy's P.O.V::
"Are you excited?" my mom asked me as we drove towards our new house. I was pretty excited because when I looked at the picture my mom took of it when she came here earlier to check it out, I could tell it was beautiful. Inside and out.
"Amy, I want you to forget all about what happened. It's in the past. We came here to start a new and better future for ourselves. I don't want you to think about what happened. Okay?"
"I know Mom, but I can't just suddenly erase what happened to me. It's going to take some time." I said.
"I know, I know. " she murmured as she reached over and gave my hand a small squeeze. She took her attention back to driving. I could tell she was still traumatized by the accident as well.
I leaned my head back against the head rest and looked out the window, watching as we passed small houses, gas stations and convenient stores. I put in my ear buds and pressed shuffle on my Ipod Touch. The A Team by Ed Sheeran blasted through the buds and my nervousness settled a little, though I still felt it lurking in the pit of my stomach.
My mom and I moved from our little town in Virginia to a place called Haddonfield in Illinois after my mom and dad got a divorce last year. I'm glad my mom left that bastard. It might be a horrible thing to say but all my step dad ever did was sat on his lazy ass and yell at me and my mother 24-7.
At first, he seemed like a really cool guy. He would buy my mom flowers, chocolates and sometimes jewelry every time he visited. He always made her feel like she was a queen and me a princess. He'd take us anywhere we wanted to go. He wasn't cheap or too uptight about money which I absolutely adored about him because my mom deserved to get spoiled as much as possible. We seemed like a perfect family. He loved us and we loved him just as much. Who could ask for more?
They soon got married and he moved in with us. I had everything I ever wanted. A mom and dad.
Our perfect family didn't last long after they got married. After two months with Tom living with us, he became more violent. Yelling cuss words, throwing raging fits for no reason. Sometimes he would get so drunk that if my mom or I did anything to upset him, he'd hit us.
I started to fear him every time he came home from work. I stayed in my room and listened to him and my mother fighting, which ended up with me hearing loud smacks' and my mother crying for hours in my room because she was too scared to sleep alone with him.
She tried to wait for him to change back into the man we both fell in love with. The one that gave her love and passion and showered her with presents. The one that said he would always protect us from harm.
He never did.
One night he came home late, drunk and mad as hell from being laid off from his job. Mom and I were both dead tired from cooking and cleaning the house so we didn't get slapped. We never heard him stomping up the steps or when he came into my room.
Deep into slumber, I never felt his hand go under my night-gown or into my panties until it was too late. He had raped me three times that night. The first two times I never felt, even when he took my virginity.
Though the third time I had woken up to him inside me, grunting and groaning wit blood covering my sheets. Long story short, I screamed, Mom woke up, kicked his ass since he couldn't physically fight well for being drunk, he got arrested and we never saw him again after all that caios.
My mom had finally divorced him and he equally agreed to it, but not without screaming obscenities at us. It took all my mom's power not to bust him right in the jaw.
My mom thought it would be for the best if we moved far away and forget about this whole mess. I didn't have any friends so I never objected. Mom found us a two-story home in a place called Haddonfield and thought it was perfect, which it was. I instantly fell in love with it.
Smiling, I closed my eyes and listened to the music that echoed in my mind.
White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die
I opened my eyes when the car came to a sudden stop. Grabbing the door handle, I glanced around and noticed we were in a driveway. Not just any driveway, our driveway. I looked at my mom, who was staring through the window shield with a smile on her face. I looked through my window and saw a brick, two-story house standing tall to the October sky. It looked even better than in the photograph.
"We're here," Mom finally said after staring at the house for at least five minutes.
"Yeah, we are," I answered, but I said it more to myself than to her.
"Beautiful isn't it?' she asked me.
"Very, better than our old home."
"I have to agree with that. Come on, let's go."
I opened the passenger door and was instantly met with the smell of the month of October. I inhaled the sweet scent. I always loved Halloween. It was one of my favorite times of the year. It had that unique scent to it when it got close to Halloween. Cinnamon, pine cones, and crunched up leaves.
I looked around the neighborhood. It seemed nice enough. Across the street stood this old-looking house about the same size of my own. It gave an impression that it hasn't been lived in in years. I wonder why, I thought. With some touch up work it could be livable.
Looking closer I noticed the top window curtain of the second floor was pulled back. I stepped closer and saw a flash of white moving away, along with the curtain. I gasped and moved back.
"Somebody was watching me," I whispered, rubbing my shoulder. Why were they watching me? Did I anger them? Were they just nosy? I was hoping they were just nosy and checking out the new neighbors.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see my mother.
"Why don't you check out the inside of the house. I already seen it when I came here earlier. I need to wait for the movers anyway."
"Sure," I answered.
::Michael's P.O.V::
"Please, please! I didn't do anything to you, man. Please let me go!" screamed the boy as he coward in the corner away from Michael. Michael smirked from beneath his mask.
Oh, but you DID you did do something to me. You stole my house from me and made it as your own, boy. Now I'm going to steal your life away from your pathetic body.
Michael thought as he inched closer to the crying boy. He with every step he took. the tighter his grip got on the large knife he held in his hand.
"Why..why are you doing this!" asked the boy. Michael, ignoring the boy's question, inched closer until he was only but a foot away. Michael tilted his head and took a better look at the helpless boy.
The boy's clothes were torn from being ruthlessly attacked in the house. His face was red and his eyes were and puffy from crying non stop. Blood dripped from his head where Michael had slammed him into a wall which now had a giant hole in it.
Instead of looking like a twenty- two year old that the boy was, he resembled a seven-year old boy wanting its mother.
This didn't faze Michael in the slightest. He was used to people pleading for him to have mercy on them and not to kill him. For him to reconsider about what he was about to do. Giving him excuses like, "I have a daughter!" or "I have a family and a home!". Some even bribed him with money, fancy cars, credit cards, or even said they could make him famous. He didn't care for none of that though. All he wanted is for everyone to leave him at peace. To stay away from him and his home.
Alas, no one bothered to obey his wish even after all the warnings he had given. Even after all the killings he had done in his lifetime. Someone would always be stupid enough to move into his home and this angered him to no end. Why couldn't people take a damn clue! Were they that stupid or were they just suicidal?
Wouldn't surprise me if they were both, thought Michael, smirking.
Snapping out of his daze, Michael noticed the boy was slowly attempting to crawl away from him. Michael snapped his head towards the boy, who gasped at his sudden movement.
"No," whimpered the boy as he shook his head. He groaned, trying to crawl away from the psycho with the large butcher knife who noticed him moving away.
Michael turned and stepped towards the boy and lifted him up by the neck. The boy clawed at his calloused hands, trying to get Michael to withhold his death grip around him, but this just made Michael tighten his grip around the boy's neck.
"Stop...please..stop." gurgled the boy. Michael heard a snap and blood started to pour out from the boy's mouth and onto Michael's mask. The boy wasn't dead yet.
Michael dropped his precious knife and slammed the boy into the wall, his head bouncing off it in the process. Michael growled and slammed the boy into the wall again and again and again until the boy's life faded from his eyes. He gave one last scream he could muster before he slumped in Michael grasp and died a death that gave the Devil the shivers. Blood spurted from the boy's body where the nails had impaled his body from the wall.
Michael threw the body in a corner where it fell in a bloody heap. His breathing was ragged , his chest was heaving, and his mask was hot from all the action. Michael tilted his head and admired the dead body like a piece of art work.
Another job well done for now, Michael
Michael slipped off his mask and it fell onto the dirty floor. Cold air blew across his face and Michael sighed in relief. He could finally breath again. He let out a shaky breath. He felt exposed without his mask. He felt naked. His mask was like this barrier between his fake emotions and his real ones.
His victims were always terrified of him because they never saw his face, not that he would ever let them. Some tried to rip off his mask in their last moments of life. They always ended up dead.
People were afraid of the unknown and he was the unknown. He was the Boogeyman and everyone was afraid of the Boogeyman.
A door slamming and soft voices made his ears quirk up. His eyes narrowed as he picked up his mask and slipped it back on over his face. He walked through his house until he got to his old bedroom. His bedroom window had the view of the street, so he could easily detect any unwanted visitors.
Michael peeped through the curtain, making sure he wasn't accidentally seen. Michael saw a car parked across at the house in the driveway. A red Chevrolet.
New neighbors...he thought bitterly. He hated new neighbors. They were no good and were always sniffing around in other people's business, causing unwanted gossip to spread around. But as long they stayed away from him, they would end up living a lot longer.
A girl stepped out of the car and looked up at the house. He watched as she stood there for a minute before turning around to face his direction. She couldn't be any older than sixteen. Such a young age to die, but she might have to.
From what he could tell, she had long blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were probably a blue shade.
Stay away, little girl Michael silently warned her.
He watched as the girl walked closer and looked directly into his eyes. He froze for a second before he snarled and backed away from the window. She had seen him! She knows somebody is in this house. This could be bad. Not because he was scared of getting caught, but because a mob might get called up again.
Ever since he killed those teenagers video taping his house back in 2002, an angry mob had tried to burn down his house. Luckily, nothing major burned. Only the one room near the attic was too badly burnt that he couldn't walk inside anymore. He never used it anyway.
They had thought he was dead. What bull shit that is. They should know well enough that nothing and no one could kill the Boogeyman.
He didn't want that to happen again. They might actually succeed in burning it down this time. There was always the option of living in the sewers, but he preferred his home.
This was HIS childhood home and he would do anything to protect it. Even it meant that he had to take a life. Michael knew what he had to do...
Kill The Girl.
XxOkay, first chapter is up! This is my first story so no flaming!Xx
XxAlso pictures for this story are on my profileXx
XxIn my story, Michael's house was never burned down in Halloween: RessurectionXx
Xx I will dedicate the next chapter to whoever tells me which horror slasher is in my profile avatar in their reviewXx
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