Halloween 9: Overcoming The Rage
"It will destroy you, too, one day Michael- this rage which drives you. You think if you kill them all it will go away? It won't. You have to fight it in the place where it's strongest, where it all began, if you want to get rid of this rage..."
~Dr. Sam Loomis (R.I.P.), Halloween 5
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Chapter 1
Haddonfield, Illinois
Halloween Night
2002
Another series of brutal murders. For years this misfortune had plagued the area and for the most part the shock had worn off, but that didn't make it any less devastating to the sleepy little town. At first glance it seemed like a modern-day Pleasantville. Children rode their bikes to school, their fathers watered their front lawns, old ladies gossiped and chattered on about the good old days- before all of this, and before Michael.
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The wind blew cold as reporters and cameramen mobbed the infamous house located at 45 Lampkin Lane- the Myers house. Among these was Rosalyn McLeod, a Haddonfield journalist taking notes while the more aggressive reporters begged for details. There had been survivors- two this time, a woman and a man. Rosalyn winced as she watched the man, the one called Freddie, knock out a cameraman.
That had to hurt, she thought. That's why I stay in the back. Rosalyn recorded the incident and brushed back a lock of her long, jet-black hair. No matter how tight she tied it, there were always a couple loose strands that escaped. Another gust of wind blew more hair into her face. She pushed it back again, revealing a pair of deep green eyes set in a slender face. Her eyes were the only discernable Irish thing about her even though she was virtually pure blood. With her slim physique and dark olive skin, Rosalyn didn't consider herself that bad off for 45.
Another body was wheeled out in a body bag. Rosalyn watched the survivors and how they reacted when the medics unzipped the bag. Sara- the girl- seemed relieved, but Freddie was cracking jokes. How obnoxious. Rosalyn narrowed her eyes. She moved a bit closer and stood on her toes to get a better look at the body on the stretcher. She felt a pang in her stomach when she saw how bad it was. He was indeed "crispy," as Freddie had put it. Parts of the mask had melted to his face. The skin she could see was burned black and flaking.
Rosalyn had to turn away. But he isn't dead, a nagging voice in the back of her head said. She'd been following these stories throughout her entire career and she knew better than to just idly assume Michael was dead whenever he turned up missing. Plus, she had connections. She had inside information. She had Tom Doyle. Tommy had encountered the enigmatic killer not once, but twice in his life. The first time he'd been a child back in 1978 being watched by none other than Laurie Strode. He and Lindsay Wallace, a neighbor girl, escaped and weren't harmed. The event stayed with Tommy his entire life until his second encounter in 1995. This time he'd been ready. He'd learned things about Michael no one knew, and he used it to his advantage. But that's why Rosalyn kept Tommy around. He knew things about Michael. He could help her.
The medics began loading the body into the Coroner's van. Rosalyn watched. No, Michael wasn't dead. This had simply been his Homecoming- and he'd been King of the Ball.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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