Author's Warning: Adult themes and situations are present in this chapter. Also, in this chapter, I make a clear distinction between Michael Myers and the Shape. My intention here is not to defile Michael's character but to add dimension to his persona, especially where Karen is concerned.


TEN MONTHS LATER

Haddonfield, Illinois

August 1, 1997

A warm breeze blew Karen's long hair in all directions as she cruised down a country road in her Camaro. Just as the Johnsons had promised, she had taken and passed drivers' training without her father's knowledge. The proof showing she was now legal to drive rested in the back pocket of her faded denim shorts.

As she crossed the county line, a deep sense of liberation filled her. She was no longer in her father's jurisdiction, and for the first time ever, she felt free. She continued to drive away from Haddonfield without a particular destination in mind. She had promised the Johnsons to be back by dark, but that still gave her a few hours to herself.

Mrs. Johnson once called her father stifling, but her father was much more than that. He controlled every aspect of her life, including who she could be friends with. He had specifically chosen the Johnsons to be her caretakers for two reasons: one, they had a daughter close to Karen's age, and two, Mr. Johnson worked with her father on the police force.

Karen couldn't gripe about the arrangement. The Johnsons always treated her like their own daughter. Even so, she never found it necessary to tell them about the incident involving her father. Although he never let her date or have any other friends besides Dawn, what he had done to her was just water under the bridge at this point. He hadn't laid a hand on her since that fateful day, upholding the promise he had made her that same night. However, his jealous behavior towards her often made her wonder if he still harbored feelings for her. That nagging thought is what kept her from fully trusting him.

The seventeen-year-old drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. Only two outside sources knew about the rape. The first being her third grade teacher; the second being Michael Myers. Even though Haddonfield's Boogeyman hadn't helped remedy the situation with her father, their brief encounter had left a lasting impact on her. He was the only man she desired to be with. Unfortunately, he was a known serial killer and although he hadn't shown any signs of wanting to kill her in the past, she doubted he would ever reciprocate her feelings. That was why she always stayed away from the park and Lampkin Lane, especially near Halloween. She didn't want to tempt Fate a second time. She figured living with unfulfilled desire was better than not living at all.

Karen glanced up at the late afternoon sky and decided it was time to head back to Haddonfield. She pulled into an abandoned farm, planning to turn around when a car parked in the waist-high weeds caught her eye. The tire tracks looked fresh, which caused her to think the driver had some kind of car trouble. She parked her Camaro next to the green 1970s Buick. She stepped out of her vehicle and cautiously approached the barn's entrance. She peered into the darkness. Suddenly, a familiar presence enveloped her. Her heart leapt as a shadow in front of her slowly dissolved into the form of a tall man. His pale handsome face glowed white in the dim light, reminiscent of the mask that haunted her dreams. "Michael?" she breathed.

The man deliberately nodded but otherwise remained motionless.

Karen's eyes wandered to the large kitchen knife gripped tightly in Michael Myers' hand. The color drained from her face when she saw a dark liquid steadily dripping from the knife's silver blade. Michael raised the weapon, which caused her to take a step backwards. Yet instead of mounting an attack, he nonchalantly gestured to a dark corner of the barn.

Reckless curiosity took hold of the teenager. She slowly crossed the barn, keeping a wide girth between her and the notorious killer. Her eyes widened in both shock and relief. A body of a large animal lay unmoving in a small pile of blood-soaked hay. "A dog?" she asked, turning to face Michael, who, to her surprise, was now standing directly behind her. Desire quickly consumed her entire being as their eyes met. She ached for him in a way she couldn't explain, making running impossible.

He carelessly tossed his knife down next to the dead canine and then reached for her. "Karen," he hoarsely murmured.

Without thinking, the teenager dove into Michael's arms, burying her face in his chest. "I need you so much it hurts," she proclaimed into the cloth of his coveralls.

He nuzzled the crown of her head with his lips. "Then let me end your pain," he said, his voice growing stronger with every word he spoke.

Karen raised her face and nodded. The killer's lips instantly crushed hers in a searing kiss that extinguished all her previous fears of him. She clung to him as their tongues dueled. Without breaking their kiss, he guided her down onto the hay-covered floor, positioning himself over her. His hands brazenly explored the skin underneath her clothes. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders as his fingers grazed over her moist center. "Michael!" she gasped when he slid his forefinger into her. He quickly found her magic spot, forcing her to succumb to a powerful orgasm.

Michael lifted his mouth from Karen's and trailed feathery kisses over to her ear. He traced her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. She quivered in response and leaned into him. He suddenly withdrew from her. Before she could question his actions, he shed his boots and coveralls. Her eyes widened upon seeing him in all his glory. "You really are the Boogeyman," she stated, staring at the faint bullet wound scars covering his chest cavity.

Michael crouched down next to her and once again found her ear. "Not to you," he firmly replied.

He gathered Karen in his arms and caressed her out of her all her clothes. A light frown touched Michael's ips as his gaze wandered over her thin frame. She immediately became self-conscious and wished he hadn't undressed her. She then noticed his eyes were lingering on the pendant dangling from her neck. She lightly touched the gold cross. "My mom gave this to me when I little," she softly explained. "She had a silver one just like it that she always wore."

The killer nodded, showing that he understood the sentiment behind the gift.

Karen returned her hand to her side, wishing she hadn't brought up the painful subject of her mother.

All at once, Michael tilted her chin upward and kissed her full on the mouth. Passion quickly overpowered them both. Together, they laid back down on the floor. They touched and kissed each other until they both yearned for release. Tears formed in Karen's eyes as their bodies merged, becoming one. Never before had she felt so connected with someone. "Michael," she moaned in an attempt to convey her feelings to him.

He responded by pushing his long length farther into her, going deeper with every powerful thrust. Karen cried out as pain mixed with pleasure. The killer continued his steady rhythm, showing no signs of relenting. She climaxed hard, screaming his name in sweet agony, yet he still did not stop. He tortured her for what felt like hours, bringing her to heights she never believe existed.

Karen was in the midst of experiencing yet another orgasm when Michael finally reached his peak. He subjected her to one last strong thrust that sent them both over the edge. He released his seed deep within her before rolling onto his back, bringing her to rest on top of him. He affectionately petted the back of her head while desperately fought to catch her breath. She then closed her eyes, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.


Michael continued to hold Karen while she slept, very content to stay with her. He understood her need for him. Ever since the day they met, he felt it, too. However, her tender age had prevented him from claiming her as his lover until now.

He glanced down at her sleeping form. Although he always knew they were destined to be soulmates, Michael never imagined Karen would respond to him the way she had. The intensity of her desire startled him, especially considering her past. Unfortunately, life seemed to have taken its toll on her. He couldn't help but notice how malnourished she looked. During his fifteen year stay in Smith's Grove Sanitarium, he had seen first-hand how patients suffering from Posttraumatic Stress Disorder dealt with their emotional pain. Some had become dependent on drugs and alcohol, while others had resorted to cutting. However, the most common psychological ailment among them was eating disorders.

In order for Michael to learn whether Karen was purposely harming herself, he would have to spend more time with her. He never made it a point to socialize with anyone, his former psychiatrist Dr. Samuel Loomis included, yet she wasn't just anybody. She was his soulmate. That alone entitled her to certain privileges prohibited to anyone else.

The teenager's eyelashes tickled the killer's chest, telling him she was now awake. She wordlessly slid off of him and began gathering her clothes together. He followed suit, noting that she never once looked at him while they dressed. As she knelt to tie her shoes, he saw that her shoulders were trembling. He silently approached her from behind, dropped to his knees, and pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. "What's wrong, Karen," he gently asked.

She finished tying her shoes and then turned to face him with a perplexed expression on her face. "Michael, I—" She gave her head a slight shake, now looking embarrassed.

"Go on," he insisted.

"Well, it's just that I've been dreaming about being with you for years now but it never felt like this."

"Felt?" the killer asked, confused by Karen's choice of wording.

She nodded. "I know they are nothing more than dreams, but they always feel so real. In fact, at times, I could have sworn you were actually in my bed with me."

Michael stared at his lover, causing her cheeks to heighten in color. "Karen, when did you start having these dreams?" he asked.

Her blush deepened. "About a month after I was attacked."

"And you're sure that you are dreaming about me?"

"Yes," the teenager replied with so much conviction he knew she wasn't lying. "You're the only man I've ever wanted, Michael, but I was scared you wouldn't share my feelings."

"Which is why you have been avoiding me."

"Yes," she said, admitting her guilt.

Michael brushed his knuckles over her warm cheek. "Karen, you're the only person I have ever developed feelings for; therefore, you will always be safe from my rage. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Good."

His lover glanced towards the barn's entrance and sighed. "I have to go, Michael," she told him. "I promised my friend's parents I would be back before dark."

"Very well." He stood up and offered her his hand. She placed her palm in his. He effortlessly pulled her to her feet. Their fingers remained intertwined as they walked out of the barn together.

"So, what were you doing here, anyway?" Karen questioned, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

Michael's obsidian eyes met hers. "I was waiting for you."

She blinked. "Do you have ESP or something?"

A very faint smile touched the killer's lips. "Or something," he mildly answered.

"Well, I'm glad I found you today," his soulmate confessed as they reached her car.

"So am I."

Her dark eyes searched his for a long moment. Then, she stood on her tiptoes and drew his lips into a soft kiss. It wasn't until she tried to deepen the kiss that Michael finally pushed her away. "Karen, you need to go," he told her. "Otherwise, you won't be in any condition to drive back to your friend's house."

She blushed, obviously catching his meaning.

"Unless," he continued, "you want to stay the night with me."

The teenager's expression suddenly darkened. "I would love to, Michael, but I just can't."

He reached behind her and lifted up on the car's door handle. "In that case, I'll see you later, Karen."

She simply nodded and stepped into her Camaro. As soon as Michael closed the door, his lover started the car and locked it into drive. She stuck her arm out the window and gave him a final wave before pulling out onto the deserted country road. He watched the Camaro until it disappeared from view. Then, he headed back towards the barn where his dinner still lay, waiting to be eaten.


Karen pulled into the Johnson's driveway just after dark. She quickly parked her car in the garage and wandered into the backyard.

Dawn was sitting on the garden swing, absently rocking it with her feet while staring up at the constellations. "You're late," she lightly scolded, turning her gaze onto her friend. "My mom was getting worried about you."

"I'm really sorry," Karen apologized. "I lost track of the time."

Dawn studied her for a long moment before saying, "Are you all right?"

Karen shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It may take a while. I have a lot to tell you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dawn said.

The brunette joined her friend on the swing and said, "I've met someone."

"Really?" the blonde asked, clearly intrigued by the news. "Is he someone in our class?"

Karen quickly shook her head. "No, he and I met once before when I was eight, and since then, we've both developed feelings for each other."

Dawn's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "After just one meeting?"

Karen wordlessly nodded.

"But you were just a kid."

"Yeah, I know."

Dawn nervously licked her lips. "Was he the one who kissed you?"

Karen gave her head a sound shake. "No, that was somebody else," she darkly replied.

"Does your father know about all this? Is that why he's so overprotective of you?"

Karen scoffed. "Yeah, he knows, and that probably has a lot to do with it."

Dawn looked her friend straight in the eye and asked, "Were you raped?"

A lump formed in Karen's throat and tears stung her eyes, yet she still managed to choke out a reply. "Yes."

The blonde girl threw her arms around the brunette, giving her a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."

Karen laid her head in her friend's shoulder. "Dawn, I'm really scared."

"Of what?"

"Of what my father will do to me once he finds out that I was with a man."

"I don't see how he will find out. I mean, I won't tell him."

Karen gently pushed Dawn away and wiped her eyes. "I know you won't," she said.

"So, are you going to tell me who this new man in your life is?" Dawn asked.

Karen drew out a long breath. "I will, but you have to promise not to tell a soul."

"I promise," Dawn solemnly swore. "Now, who is he?" A few seconds ticked by. "Karen…?"

"Michael Myers," the brunette murmured.

Dawn's eyes grew as big as saucers. "You're shitting me," she breathed.

"No, I'm not," said Karen. "He and I met just after I was raped."

Dawn remained silent for a few long moments while she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she asked, "Can you be sure that he will never hurt you?"

Karen nodded. "Yes."

The blonde teenager sighed. "When are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know."

Dawn gave her friend a shy look. "Do you think he loves you?"

Karen shook her head. "I don't think Michael Myers is capable of loving anybody, do you?"

A frown touched the blonde girl's lips. "No, I guess not, but are you going to be okay with that?"

"Dawn, the man who attacked me told me he loved me and look at what he did. If someone like Michael Myers can show that he at least cares about me, then I'll take that over love any day."

Dawn opened her mouth to say something else when the back door flung open.

"I thought I heard voices out here," Mrs. Johnson said, letting the door close behind her. Her gaze traveled from one girl to the other. "All right, what's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing," Johanna's daughter quickly replied. "We were just talking."

"Right, I wasn't born yesterday, Dawn." The woman studied Karen and said, "Something seems different about you. Are you all right?"

The brunette nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Johanna sighed. "Karen, please don't lie to me. I know there is something going on with you. Is everything okay at home?"

"Everything's fine at home," Karen assured Dawn's mother.

"And yet you look positively drained."

"I'm just tired. Speaking of which," Karen rose to her feet, "I should get going. My father's expecting me home tonight."

"In that case, I'll give you a ride," Mrs. Johnson offered.

"Thanks."

Karen followed Johanna out of the backyard and into the Johnsons' blue Pontiac Grand Prix. Once Mrs. Johnson pulled away from the house, she said, "Karen, for years I have watched your health deteriorate, and I want you to know that if need to get away from your father, I can arrange for you live with my sister. She and her husband own a large estate in Waukegan. I know they would take you in an instant."

Karen stared at her friend's mom in shock. "They would do that for me?"

"Yes. In fact, I could drive you there right now, if you want."

Karen was about to say yes when her thoughts returned to Michael. As much as she wanted to leave Haddonfield, she couldn't leave without talking to him first. Surely, staying one more night with her father wouldn't hurt. "I need some time to think about it," she said at last.

"Yes, of course, Karen, but for your sake, I wouldn't wait too long. I feel the sooner you leave, the better it will be for you."

Johanna pulled into Karen's driveway. The teenager left the car and said, "Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Johnson. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Karen."

The brunette nervously walked up to her house. Just as she stepped onto the porch, the front door opened. "I know I'm late," she told her father, not giving him the chance to reprimand her tardiness.

His dark eyes pierced her, and she got the distinct impression he could see the same change in her that Mrs. Johnson had. Instead of saying anything about it, he silently moved out of the doorway, allowing her entry into the house. She wordlessly passed him on her way to the kitchen. A pizza box along with a glass of root beer was sitting on the counter. She grabbed the drink but left the food untouched.

"I really wish you would eat something, princess," her father said. "You're getting much too thin."

"Maybe later, Dad," Karen replied. "Right now, I just want to go upstairs and get ready for bed."

"Have it your way, princess. I'll check on you in awhile."

Karen sauntered up to her bedroom. She sat down at her desk and exchanged the glass of root beer for her favorite Jane Austen book. She absently took sips of her drink while she lost herself within the fictional lives of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy.

Two chapters into her reading, Karen's eyesight began to blur, and her mind stopped comprehending the words on the page. Frustrated, she laid her novel down next to the half-empty glass of root beer. Her eyes suddenly widened. She stared at the drink and then snatched it from the desk. She had to find Michael.

Karen's bedroom door instantly creaked open. Her father stood in the threshold, glaring at her. "Going somewhere, princess?" he harshly questioned.

Thinking quickly, the teenager moved to her nightstand and placed the glass on the small table top. "No, I was just planning to lie down."

Her father came to stand behind her. Before she could react, he roughly grabbed Karen by the hips and bent her over the edge of her bed. He pushed her face into the mattress with one hand while the other unfastened her shorts. He let them and her panties drop unceremoniously to the floor. Her head started to swim as he touched her bare backside.

"You've been a very bad girl today, princess," he jeered while he unzipped his own pants. "And now it's time to punish you."

Karen screamed in pure agony as her father ruthlessly shoved himself into the hole between her twin mounds, but the mattress muffled the sound—not that anyone was around to hear it, anyway. Just like last time, she was all alone with no one to help her.

"You wouldn't be in so much pain if you would have finished your drink," he said, "but maybe this will teach you not to screw around with other men."

Tears of utter despair soaked Karen's bedding as David Miller violently abused her. By the time he finished, she was barely conscious. He lifted her up onto the mattress where he forced the remainder of the root beer down her throat. Eventually, darkness descended upon her, and she welcomed it with open arms.