I do not own Halloween or its characters.
I Know these chapters are short but I do hope you enjoy them 3
Chapter 2
Faces, all those faces scared and angry. They called out to me vying for my attention, screaming at me trying to warn me of dangers they could not speak. And I was left to figure out. I tossed and turned on the brink of consciousness, fighting to sleep and fighting away those faces, all of them but one in particular. His.
Half asleep and half awake I see that face staring down at me, Michael Myers as it had been told to me. Cocking his head slightly to the right scrutinizingly he just stares quietly, I wondered what he must be seeing or thinking. An ever changing back drop depicting the wall that I had grown accustom to seeing turning from plain white to a old fashioned wall papers and then into the tattered remains of that same wallpaper then back again to the white I was used to, an ever changing spectrum as if the wall was playing games with my drowsy eyes. That was when I noticed as he began to lower himself to me slowly the mask obscuring my vision of the time traveling wall. His eyes were so close now like unwavering pools of darkness, his breath a sure sign that he was indeed living...
I came jerked awake afraid that I would have drowned in that darkness, but all I saw were the shadowed shapes of my belongings, a dresser, some unpacked boxes and other things. But no man. He was not there and neither was the ever changing wall, just my plane safe white wall and for that I was grateful. I rubbed my tired eyes and looked over at the alarm clocks big red number, 4:30. I groaned knowing that I would be up in an hour and a half sleep or no sleep. I also groaned because though it felt as though I had been asleep ten minutes I had been asleep about six and a half and do to the fitfulness of my slumber I wasn't able to rest at all. I lay back down resolute to sleep the remaining hour and a half. I laid back down gratified to feel sleep pull me back under quickly.
I awoke with a determination that could not be stemmed and after my morning ritual I booted up my laptop with one hand and drank coffee with the other. I needed to hear the story about this being the shape, the man in the white mask. Michael Myers, and I wanted to hear it from accurate sources. I found archives full of information on the subject that was Michael Myers. Sifting through them I realized that the people of the town were spot on when they whispered about him he was a force to be reckoned with. His body count was up in the thousands, and the home I now occupied had indeed been his childhood home. I looked at the pictures depicting the house before it had been renovated and was again shocked that the man who had sold it had the price so low. It must've taken a lot of work and a lot more money to restore the house to the condition it was in now.
It was at that point that I came across two very alarming bits of information. One the body of man that the people of this fine town fear, for obvious reason, was missing as was always the case when he was pronounced dead and being transported. Bit two apparently it had been reported that the home that she was currently residing within was the first place the people believed he would return to around Halloween time. I felt my blood turning to ice as last night came into focus, had I been dreaming or had he really been there. Standing so perilously close. If it had indeed been real then why was I alive to research him, why wasn't I dead. I was uncertain and sick of hearing bad things so I exited the browser and decided to do something to take my mind off Michael Myers, placing my mug full of now cold coffee in the sink I made my way passed the dining room and into the living room to watch TV.
But the first thing I heard when I turned on the TV was that name...
"Michael Myers Strikes again...The citizens of Haddonfield are in terror as three bags containing the bodies of three of its own citizens who've yet to be identified, are carried off to the local hospital. The police have said that they can neither confirm or deny that this was indeed the work of Haddonfields most dangerous and elusive murderer Michael Myers but people think differently."
I trembled with fear as the scene cut to an elderly woman talking about how she believed that this was indeed the work of Michael Myers. Where was he staying if she was occupying his home. The dream felt more and more real as time ticked by. I wasn't sure how long I sat there but was jerked out of my trans when there was a loud knock on my front door causing me to yelp and jump.
"Who is it?" I asked walking towards the front door.
"Hello I'm Sheriff Lee Brackett, I just came by to check on you." he said through the door. It confirmed what I had learned online, this was the first place people believed Michael Myers would come. I opened the door allowing the cool breeze to permeate my otherwise warm home to find a man in his late 50's with kind blue eyes, a goatee and hair that touched the back of his neck, all white with age. He wore a cliched brown sheriffs uniform coat and all and atop his head was a hat with the similar brown on it covered in fir.
"Hi sheriff I'm Kasey Moore." I said extending my hand, but he didn't shake it right away, he looked at my hand and then up at me with a disapproving look.
" Ah, your the one planing on throwing that Halloween party." I wasn't a question but I still felt obligated to answer.
" Yes that's me, hope you'll be there." I asked as he finally took my hand.
" I cant attend Because I'm on duty but I will be sure to check on you and your guests regularly . I kind of think its a good idea, a party. That man has ruined Halloween for everyone." as he said those last words I saw a sadness in his eyes that brought a pang to my heart. Michael Myers had taken someone dear from this man and he still ached from it. I wanted to ask but thought better of it, After all I barely knew him and it would be rude to pry.
" Thank you sheriff I appreciate that." I said instead smiling reassuringly. He smiled back and after saying there goodbyes left.
I was alone again, but didn't feel it, you that feeling that your being watched well I felt it palpably as if those eyes on me were hands, cold hands.
