I just watched Halloween for the first time in my life, and its apparently my boyfriend's favorite movie series. He has officially made me obsessed and this is just an idea that's been running around my head for a few days, and if I didn't get it out of my system it was gunna keep me awake. Im not expecting this to be a whole story, most likely just 2 or 3 chapters. Stay classy story is based off of the Rob Zombie version.
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I stared around the room of the office. The walls were lined with framed degrees and stupid corny inspirational posters. On the desk sat a pile of manila folders, papers spilling out of them and scattered across the desk. He had one of those mugs that said "world's best dad" sitting on the edge of the desk as well. Huh…he has kids? I never considered such a smart man like Dr. Loomis to have such stupid shit all over his office.
I shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair I was told to sit in. It squeaked annoyingly every time I moved, the metal legs slightly rusted and almost too old to support the chair any longer. I picked up a pencil from the desk and began weaving it between my fingers. I tossed the pencil to the desk just as Dr. Loomis walked into the office.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting…Kitty?" He looked up from the sheet he'd been reading, giving me a strange look before sitting in his chair across from me. I grabbed my waist length ponytail and pulled it over my shoulder before examining my nails.
"Yeah, you said it correctly." Loomis cleared his throat before flipping through some more papers.
"Do you know why I wished to speak with you today?" He sat down in the seat across from me, then proceeded to adjusted the collar of his shirt, looking like he was about to start pouring sweat at any moment.
"Well, I'm assuming it has something to do with Michael escaping, and the fact that I was seeing him every day on a regular basis. Or is that just a hunch?" I shifted again to cross my legs, the chair groaning underneath me the whole time.
"Yes, that's correct. I just find it strange that out of all these papers I've gone over, there's really nothing on your back story. Aside from the fact that you have a degree in specialized mechanics, a pilot's license, your bachelors in cooking, and a whole lot of dead ends that are looking pretty suspicious right about now."
I grabbed a few random curls from my ponytail, stretching them out just to watch them bounce back into place. I looked up at Loomis from underneath my bangs before blowing out a breath of air. "I also do pastry art, in case you were wondering."
He gave me a stern look, slamming the Manilla folder shut.
"Woah! You don't think I had anything to do with his escape, do you?" I gave him an incredulous look, crossing my arms.
"We're keeping all of our options open right now." He really wasn't playing around was he? This whole situation was just getting ridiculous.
"You can see it on the cameras for crying out loud. Those two idiots were messing with a patient, and then just waltzed right into Michael's room. Now they're dead, and now he's gone."
"And how did you learn of this information?" Loomis started to scribble away on a notepad he pulled from a drawer on his desk.
"Because people have been talking about it." He looked shocked for a moment, then scribbled more information onto his little notepad.
No one had actually been talking about it. After I'd arrived to work and learned that Michael had escaped, I'd taken it upon myself to snoop through the computers in the guard's station while everyone was busy. Yes, it was illegal, but illegal was what I did best.
I was, for lack of better words, a secret agent. And it had been a part of my life since I was born. Both of my parents had been agents, meeting on some vacation island while pulling a job. It was love at first crosshairs, if you will. They were each assigned to assassinate the other, but their love, or lust, for one another made it impossible for them to go through with it.
They were both burned shortly after I was conceived, so they shacked up together and raised me. But of course, both organizations feeling duped out of a kill, decided that they would let my parents back in, if they raised me to work as a double agent. My parents agreed, but were terminated when I was 15 for not being "truly invested in the organization".
So, from there I'd gone into hiding, changed my name about a million times, moved to a remote little town where no one knew who I was, and got a job interning at a mental institution until they decided to hire me on at 16. The perfect cover as far as I was concerned. But now this crazed man sitting in front of me, was trying to open doors that he could get shot for just looking at.
"What were you doing before you were hired here. I can see you've been working here for about 16 years. A little after Michael Myers was admitted."
"Well, I was an orphan growing up in Kansas, and when I turned 15 I scraped up some money, hopped on a bus and rode it as far as I could go. They stopped off in this town, and they kicked me off. I've always wanted to help people, so I asked to intern as a nurse for the first job I saw. Of course, they didn't actually hire me on as a nurse until I was 18, but they did give me an assistants job when I turned 16."
Loomis stopped writing for a moment and placed his hands on the desk, fingers folded together.
"Why would this institution give a job to a 16 year old orphan, with a vague back story?"
I shrugged my shoulders, twirling another curl around my fingers.
"Maybe they had no better options? Or maybe I'm just that persuasive. People say I can be quite charming."
"Of course…" He mumbled, before returning to his writing. I rolled my head along my shoulder until I was looking out the window. It was the day before Halloween, and the air was beginning to get colder. I hoped it wouldn't rain, I didn't bring an umbrella, and my new jacket was pure leather.
"Tell me about the first time you met Michael." I rolled my head back over the edge of the chair to stare at the ceiling as I made myself comfortable. It was hard to think back fifteen years, but I guess I had no choice at this point. Loomis seemed dead set on getting inside my brain.
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The first time I met Michael Myers, I was shadowing a nurse overseeing the medications. I had just turned 16, and it was the second day I had been allowed near the patients. I'd seen Michael being escorted to the visiting area, and for a short moment we'd shared eye contact. I was trained to see the subtle changes of people's facial features, and immediately I noticed the minute tick of shock run over his face. Whether it was from seeing someone so young working in an insane asylum, or something else entirely I was never sure.
We were moving through the motions, handing patient after patient a set of pills, and a small Dixie cup of water to wash it all down, when suddenly there was a blaring of alarms above us. Guards started to run around, both to wherever the commotion was happening, and also to contain the now agitated patients around me and the nurse. The guards began pushing the patients against the wall, yelling instructions to stay put. I was pushed behind the nurse I was with, shielded from the situation at hand.
There was loud screaming coming from the visiting area, and suddenly a wailing cry. Two guards ran past the row of patients against the wall, and a few second later I noticed Michael being held, kicking and screaming bloody murder back to his room. I was pushed behind the nurse more, so I wouldn't witness the event, but for a moment I'd made eye contact with the boy a second time.
His eyes had been completely swallowed by his pupils, and he was howling and snarling like a wild animal. I'd run into some pretty fucked up people in my past career, but this boy…his was possibly the scariest soul I'd ever had the pleasure of peering into. And I was 100% interested. When he was gone from the hallway, and the only thing we could hear were quiet screams, all the patients were ordered back to their rooms to calm down.
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"Why would you find that whole situation interesting?" Loomis questioned me, pen at the ready over his trusty notepad.
"Well I don't know. The fact that such a young kid, what was he, 11 at the time? The fact that such a young kid like him had so much death in his eyes. I could see it, even at my age. In the life I grew up with, you had to learn who wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, or you wouldn't survive. And that boy, hated every creature on this earth."
Loomis observed me for a moment, and I could see that he didn't believe that I was just an orphan from Kansas for even a second. But what did I care? I'd never tell him my true back story anyway. I'd only ever told one person in over 15 years, and that man was a complete mute. He wasn't interested in telling anyone my life story anyway.
"Tell me about the first contact you'd shared with Michael." I laughed lowly to myself, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
"Alright, but don't give me any weird ass looks ok? I have a way of dealing with people, and I wasn't as good about it as I am now."
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It was months after the nurse death incident, and I was officially on meal duty. I was responsible for bringing the meals to the more complacent patients, and was even allowed to follow along to be a backup with the more difficult ones. Michael was always a special case because he was the youngest patient in the building. The staff tried to give him as much supervised stretching time as possible. He took all his meals in a large activity room, and he was allowed to walk around at his will and stretch a little.
Of course, he never did as far as I had heard. He just sat in that metal chair and ate as slowly as possible for the hour and a half that he was allowed in the room. He also had a habit of refusing to eat his food while the staff was watching him. He insisted on wearing his mask, and didn't like people to see his face anymore.
On this particular day, we were a little short staffed, so once I'd finished feeding and taking down notes for my current patients, I was called over the loud speaker and informed that I was needed at the nurse's station. The moment I arrived, one of the head nurses took my shoulders in her firm hands. I looked down at her hands, forcing myself not to instinctively retaliate.
"Alright, listen to me closely. We're going to go feed that Myers kid ok? I want you to stick close to me, and don't make any kind of contact with him. You can talk to him if you want, but don't let him touch you. Don't even turn your back to him unless you're leaving the room. Understood?"
I nodded quickly, setting a serious look on my face so she knew I meant business. The nurses never questioned my quiet steeled personality, assuming that since I was an orphan, it was only natural that I would be hardened to the world. The nurse picked up a tray, and we began walking toward the rec room. There were already 3 guards posted outside the room when we arrived. One of them unlocked the door, giving both of us a sympathetic look.
"Good luck." He said, opening the door.
"Thanks." The nurse beside me replied, before motioning for me to go in front of her. As I stepped into the room, I noticed Michael sitting at the table. His head was down, and he had his hands in his lap tucked between his knees. He had a red Papier Mache mask on, and he didn't even look at us as we walked up to the table.
"Here's your food. Eat quickly, we don't have all day." She put the tray of food down on the table and stepped away. She turned toward me, motioning for us to stand by the door while he ate, but instead I sat at the table across from Michael.
"I'll be fine, I'm just so tired from standing all day. Is it alright If I just rest for a short while?"
The nurse hesitated for a moment, glancing quickly toward Michael before leveling her eyes on me.
"DON'T let him touch you." She whispered, pointing a finger at me, waiting for a nod of my understanding before walking back to the door to talk with one of the guards through the grating where the window would be. I sat at the table, switching between eyeing Michael's plate of food and his masked face. He hadn't even touched his food, simply choosing to eye the plate.
I figured that the rumors were true then. Michael Myers wouldn't eat, unless you looked away long enough for him to take his mask off. I shifted slightly in my seat, bringing one leg over the side of the bench until I was facing the entrance to the rec area. I listened as he lifted his head, staring at me for a moment, before lowering his head to his tray. I stared at the side of the nurse's face, watching as for a small moment both her and the guard lowered their heads to laugh at some joke one of them had said.
That small moment however was all that Michael had needed. My instincts immediately kicked in, and it was as if I was moving in slow motion. I listened as he snatched his fork off the tray with force, intent on shoving the object into the side of my neck. I whipped around to face him, left hand grabbing onto the fork while my right hand slapped against his wrist, forcing him to let go. It was the same principle I would have used while disarming someone with a gun.
I turned my head slowly toward the nurse, seeing that she was still distracted. My hand was still gripped tightly around Michael's wrist, and I could feel him glaring murder into the side of my face. I turned back toward him, slowly releasing his wrist and watching as he shoved it back between his knees with his other hand. The kid was quick, that much I could say…but he wasn't quick enough.
I tucked the fork into the pocket of my nurse outfit before placing my hands on the table, lacing my fingers together calmly. I leveled my eyes on his, watching as his pupils dilated, consuming his entire iris. Don't show the enemy your emotions, and he'll hold no power over you.
"You know…if you're going to kill me, you're gunna have to try one hell of a lot harder than that." I whispered, loud enough for him to hear across from me. I tilted my head at him, then leveled my eyes on his tray. "And now you'll just have to eat your food without a fork."
He sat there in silence, staring me down like a lion stares down a zebra waiting for the opportune moment to attack. He shifted in his seat, then leaned forward just the slightest.
"I WILL kill you." He said, before sitting back and continuing to ignore his food. I examined him for a moment longer as I heard the nurse approaching us, also noticing him refusing to touch his food.
"You know what? I hope you do. Don't make empty promises kid." Before I stood up, I gave him a wink, then followed the nurse out the doors.
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"So…you provoked him? Encouraged him to want to kill you?" Loomis looked like he was in the beginnings of wanting to evaluate my own psyche. I shrugged my shoulders, holding my hands up in front of me and began tilting them back and forth in a "So-So" manner.
"Eh…I mean I guess. Technically, I would have been perfectly fine never speaking to the damn kid. HE'S the one who started making threats, and I'm not one to be threatened thank you very much. Not in any way shape or form." I leveled Loomis with a stare, pointing my index finger in his direction.
"Well, what happened after that?"
"That was the last time Michael ever talked to me. To anyone really. But every time we would go into that room to feed him, he'd stare me down. And if looks could kill, believe you me, I'd have been dead 12 years ago." I leaned back in my chair again, lacing my fingers to wrap around my knee.
"Why twelve? You met him 15 years ago."
"Yeah, but before then he was still just a prepubescent kid. Even he knew that, and I'll give it to him he was a pretty smart kid. And he was an even smarter man. He knew he couldn't out strength me, I was 6 years older than him. But then he turned 14." I stopped for dramatic effect, spreading my fingers apart to fake an explosion.
"It was like the kid had a mutant growth spurt, and was replaced with this testosterone filled powerhouse. I always wondered how the hell he stayed in shape so well. He was always either sitting at the table to eat in the rec room, or he was sitting in his room making masks."
"I had noticed. It was subtler for me, because I was seeing him on a regular basis."
"yeah well, the kid was no longer a kid though. And that's when shit really started to get crazy."
Dr. Loomis leaned forward in his seat, pen forgotten for the moment as he was drawn into a retelling of a side of Michael that he never got to see.
"How so?" He said, interest completely focused on me.