He waited a few minutes after the girls left for school before deciding to make his move. Removing his headphones and slipping on the pale mask, Tyrone stepped out from behind the bushes, having hid there for a couple hours after Libby dropped him off. He was also wearing the jumpsuit and gloves that Libby provided for him. It was no longer raining, but it was cloudy and windy.
Remembering that Libby told him that she'd left her bedroom window unlocked, he shuffled around to the side of the house, failing to step around the mud created by the rain the day before. The rain had finally come to a stop the night before, but it was still cloudy outside. Finding her window, he managed to pry it open enough to slip his fingers underneath it and lift it the rest of the way up. Grabbing onto the sides of the window frame, he then dragged himself inside, landing on the floor. Standing up, he looked around briefly, before walking towards the closed door, his shoes leaving behind mud prints.
"Shit," Tyrone said under his breath when he finally noticed the mud.
Seeing a small rug on the floor, he stepped on it and began wiping his feet off, leaving giant, muddy streaks behind on it.
The girls wouldn't return home for several hours, so he had plenty of time. Libby wanted him to scare the shit out them. But first, before he began setting up to scare them, he wanted to have a look around the house. He was sure that they had valuables around the house and he planned on collecting some for himself. He was considering it to be his payment, especially since Libby had forced him to wake up so early that morning.
Starting in her room, he approached her dresser and began pulling open drawers. Most of her drawers weren't very full, if not completely empty, as she'd brought a lot of her belongings to his apartment after her roommates had told her she had to move out. Even her jewelry box was over there. It didn't hurt to still look though. Finding nothing worth taking in the dresser, he moved to her nightstand and opened its little drawer. Inside it was mostly stuff such as a nail file, but underneath that junk was something that stuck out to Tyrone: a twenty dollar bill. Grinning to himself, he reached in and slid the money from underneath the other stuff, pocketing it.
Closing the drawer, he then walked over to the bedroom door and opened it, taking a step out into the hallway which led to the rest of the house. He had only taken a few steps down the hall though when he heard a creaking upstairs, which caused him to stop in his tracks, his heart beating fast in his chest as he peered up at the ceiling, waiting to see if any other creaking occurred. After a few moments of silence passed, he let out a sigh of relief.
"God damn, Tyrone," he said to himself, chuckling. "Scaring yourself and shit."
It must have just been the house settling or a strong gust of wind. It was an old house, after all. Old houses always seemed to make unexplainable creaks and groans. Continuing to walk, he entered the front hallway where he decided to lift off his mask, stuffing it into a pocket of the jumpsuit. It was hot behind that latex and he saw no point in wearing it all that time until the girls returned home.
Hearing the creaking again, more than once, Tyrone snapped his head to look up at the second floor landing. It was dark up there like the rest of the house and if someone was there, he couldn't tell. Had one of the girls returned home early for some reason and he didn't realize it? He would've heard the front door open though and would've heard them walking up the stairs too.
After a few more moments of silence, he shook it off again. He was there to scare the girls and he was scaring himself instead.
Michael heard the window downstairs slide open while he was upstairs. He didn't know who it was or why they were there. It didn't seem likely that it was one of the girls, unless they locked themselves out somehow. Of course, they could have just used the backdoor then like he did. But they still thought that door was locked, because they never checked it.
He could hear whoever it was moving around in the bedroom downstairs. He was in his old bedroom again himself. Stepping into the bathroom and quietly opening the door, he stepped out onto the landing, remaining in the shadows, hoping to get a peek at whoever it was. And whoever it was would be in for a surprise if they happened to get a peek at him. It did seem unlikely that it was one of the girls, so perhaps the mystery guest, the intruder, would get an up-close and personal peek at him.
Hearing the downstairs' bedroom door open, the intruder soon entered his view and what they were wearing caused him to slowly tilt his head, in a mix of perhaps confusion and fascination: a white mask and a dark jumpsuit, very similar to his own. When the person then raised their mask, he saw that it was actually a face he recognized. It was the boyfriend of that one girl who lived there, Libby. Libby, the one the other girls seemed to bring up often in their conversations.
Having seen enough, he then stepped back into the bathroom to return to his old room, silently closing the door behind him.
Outside, Sheriff Elamb's patrol car pulled up and he cut the engine, turning his head to look at the old Myers' house across the street. Deep down, he had a funny feeling. A feeling of nervousness. A feeling that something was going to occur and it wouldn't be anything good.
The house stood quietly for the time being as Lonnie took a sip of his coffee. It was the type of quietness that was unsettling though. The type of quietness that caused you think things such as someone waiting behind a corner or in the shadows. Waiting for the chance to step out and say 'boo'.
Sadly, he couldn't do anything other than wait. He had no physical evidence that Michael Myers was back. There was the possible intruder from Sunday night, but that was just it. Possible. It was nothing more than that. There was no actual sign of a break-in and there was certainly no sign that it was had been Myers. He couldn't just go and warn the girls either. Because as much as he feared another murder occurring, he didn't want to cause some kind of panic either. A panic without a way to actually prove the reason behind it. And it wouldn't be just with those girls renting the place either. The whole damn town would be in a panic.
Sipping his coffee again, he kept his eyes focused on the house, waiting for the first sign of trouble. To see someone prowling around the outside of the house or to see something suspicious in one of the windows. The only thing that would be able to pull him away would be a call on the radio and in a small town like Haddonfield, that was sort of a rare occurrence anyway.
Tyrone had moved from the front hall to the living room. There was a TV there, but he didn't think he'd be able to make it away with anything big like that, especially since he was supposed to call Libby with his cell phone after he scared her roommates. If he had a car already there and waiting, then he might consider trying to steal some of their bigger, more expensive objects.
Making his way then into the dining room and the kitchen, he quickly realized that he wasn't going to find much there either. On the dining table was a old-looking silver candlestick and in the kitchen cabinets were some old-looking plates. He figured that he could maybe get some money for the candlestick, but he didn't want to have to carry it around either. He was pretty sure that he'd be able to find some kind of jewelry in the other girls' bedrooms, but being just college girls, he wasn't expecting to find anything too high value, unless it was stuff that was passed down, as the candlestick and plates appeared to be.
Briefly, he considered texting Libby to ask if she had any ideas, but he decided against it, because she didn't know that was part of his plan and might argue with him about it. Plus, he'd already stolen from her anyway. Despite his methods, in his mind, it still seemed wrong to ask her for help at that point.
Returning to the front hall, he gazed up at the second floor again. He could have sworn that he heard another creak, but if one of the girls was there, wouldn't they have made more noise than that, if they were to attempt to confront him or even just find a phone to call the police on him?
Reaching out to grab the handrail, he began to slowly climb up the stairs, towards the darkness of the second floor. At the top of the stairs, he peered at the darkness before him, wishing he knew where the light switch was. If someone was there, he'd never know. Carefully, he stepped towards the door that he was pretty sure was Elissa's and turned the knob, pushing the door open with his palm until the knob banged against the wall behind it.
Entering her room, Tyrone approached her dresser, where her jewelry box was in plain sight, the window of her room providing him enough light to see without needing to turn on a lamp. Lifting the lid, he began to pick through it, though nothing really jumped out at him that seemed to have any real monetary value.
"Fucking cheap bitch," Tyrone muttered as he stepped away from the dresser, not bothering to put her jewelry back up or close the lid out of annoyance, hoping that one of the other two would have something good for him to take.
Turning around, he intended to head through the doorway connecting to Thora's room, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure standing in the doorway instead, having somehow managed to silently open the door while Tyrone had his back turned. If he hadn't been so annoyed, perhaps he would've noticed the figure in the dresser's mirror. The figure was wearing a white mask much like the one Libby had given him to wear. Had Libby sent someone else to scare the girls too? That seemed highly unlikely. The figure stared at him and Tyrone stared right back.
"Who the fuck are you?" Tyrone questioned.
The figure didn't respond. Didn't even move. Just stood there staring. Tyrone would've thought it was a bizarre mannequin if he couldn't see the small movement of the figure's chest moving as they breathed. Stepping forward, he then made the mistake of throwing a punch at the figure. Michael raised a hand and caught Tyrone's fist in the palm of his hand, squeezing it tightly, crushing it.
Screaming and thrashing around in pain, Tyrone yelled, "Fuck! Let go of me, you crazy motherfucker!"
Michael obliged Tyrone and shoved his fist back at him, causing him to stumble and fall backward onto the floor, grabbing at his injured hand with his other hand. Staring down at Tyrone, who was glaring back at Michael at that point, he slowly tilted his head to one side. His attempt to attack Michael having failed, Tyrone did the only other thing he could think of: run. Scrambling to his feet, he started to charge towards Elissa's still open door that led into the hallway, now certain that the creaking he had heard before wasn't just the wind outside.
However, Michael had other plans for Tyrone and before he could make it through the door, Michael moved after him and shoved him in the back, causing him to stumble again, tripping over the threshold and falling forward this time, his skull cracking against the top of the railing that ran along the second floor landing. He slumped to the floor, blood trickling from his forehead.
Slowly walking up behind Tyrone, Michael had something in his hands. It wasn't a knife or any other kind of a blade but a rope. A long, thick rope tied into a noose. Using one hand to grab Tyrone by the back of his jumpsuit to drag him up, his body almost a rag doll, blood dripping from his head to the floor, he used his other hand to sling the noose over Tyrone's head and around his neck. Beginning to realize what was happening, Tyrone started trying to struggle, but it was far too late.
With one hand holding the rope tightly and the other still on the back of Tyrone's jumpsuit, Michael yanked Tyrone forward, sending him over the railing, and grabbed the rope with his other hand once Tyrone was over. Tyrone's body fell for a few feet before he ran out of rope and the noose pulled shut sharply, snapping his neck. Michael held the rope firmly, keeping his feet well-planted on the floor to keep himself from going over the railing with Tyrone.
Tyrone's body swung back and forth through the air, his arms and legs rigid for a moment after his neck was broken, before they fell limp, his shoes banging against the wall, leaving behind small scratches and marks that no one would likely notice. As his body lost momentum in swinging, Michael released the rope, watching it slide fast over the railing, disappearing over the top, and a loud thud sounded throughout the house as Tyrone's body crashed to the floor. Michael stepped forward and looked down over the railing at Tyrone's body, the rope having landed partially on top of him. This sight caused Michael to slowly tilt his head again, to one side and then the other.
Lonnie was still in his car when he heard the loud thud. It had almost sounded like a gunshot and he was pretty sure that it had come within the Myers' house. Quickly, he set down his cup of coffee and threw open the door, climbing out of the car. Slamming the door shut behind him, he ran across the street towards the house, pulling out his revolver from its holster as he moved.
No cars were parked in front of the house, so he was pretty sure that none of the girls were home, and even if they were, the sound still came off as very suspicious to him. He briefly wondered what he would say if reached the front door to find one of the girls there with a reasonable explanation to give to him, though he couldn't imagine what that might be. He'd worry about that if it did indeed turn out to be something simple such as that.
Running up the steps and onto the porch, he tried to see through the window on the front door, but he could only peek through one edge of it because of the window's curtain. That was enough for him though, as he could see someone moving around inside in the front hall near the door. Someone who appeared to be a man, a white mask upon their face. Trying the handle of the front door, he wasn't surprised to discover that it was locked. He thought about trying to break the door open, but it was well-built, thick and wooden, with a deadbolt. Even if he could possibly ram it open with his shoulder, it would still take too long.
Backing down the steps, away from the door, revolver still drawn, Lonnie reminded himself of that Halloween night in 1978, when he'd been scared away from the house. He couldn't run away this time though. He instead moved around to the right side of the house, past the living room window, which he peeked in as he moved past it, trying to see if he could still spot the figure. Stopping at the corner of the house before just running into the backyard, right into a possible ambush, he quickly peeked around the corner. It was clear. Revolver raised in front of him, cautiously, he stepped around the corner, giving the backyard a quick scan with his eyes, before turning towards the backdoor. He wouldn't need to check if it was locked, as it was already opened a crack.
Reaching forward with one hand, Lonnie lightly pushed at the door, enough to let it swing open. And he didn't get any further than that, as he found Michael waiting on the other side, a sharp kitchen knife in hand. He didn't get a chance to get even one shot off either, because Michael reached out and grabbed the barrel of his revolver, forcefully bending it backwards in his hands so that the barrel was pointing at Lonnie, pushing it even further, until he had to release it, the pain that Michael was causing to his fingers and wrists overwhelming him.
Michael threw the revolver to the kitchen floor with a clatter, only to bring his hand back up to Lonnie's throat, wrapping his scarred fingers tightly around it and cutting off Lonnie's air, before shoving him backwards, into the middle of the backyard. Keeping his hand on Lonnie's neck the entire time, he brought his other hand up, the one holding the kitchen knife, and swiftly plunged the blade underneath Lonnie's chin, easily stabbing through into his mouth.
Blood spilled from Lonnie's open mouth as Michael continued choking him, the blade visible inside as his tongue thrashed around it, the tip poking at the roof of his mouth. He stared at the white mask before him, at the black eye holes, his own eyes wide with terror and pain. A million thoughts were racing through his head, of his family, of his childhood, and especially of what Michael was going to do to him next. He didn't have to wait long to find out either, because in one fluid, final motion, Michael ripped the knife out of Lonnie's chin, a splashed of blood coming with the blade, and he moved his hand from Lonnie's throat to the top of his head, grabbing his hair tightly, only to swing the blade across Lonnie's throat.
Michael continued holding on to Lonnie by his hair as they continued staring at each other, blood squirting from Lonnie's neck, high into the air, only to splatter down into the grass. As the last of life faded from his body, Michael released his hair, allowing his body to collapse to the ground. Staring down at the latest body for a moment longer, Michael then crouched down and reached into Lonnie's pants pockets, pulling out a set of keys. One likely operated the police car that he used for patrolling the streets of Haddonfield. He wouldn't be needing the keys or the car any longer. Michael had a use for them though. He started to stand up, when he reached his hand towards Lonnie again, pulling his handcuffs free that time. Something else he wouldn't be needing any longer.
Approaching Lonnie's car unseen, or at least unseen by anyone who might care to approach him, he climbed in and started the engine. Revving it a few times, he slowly pulled the car around, making a u-turn on the otherwise quiet and empty street, pulling up directly in front of his house. Climbing back out, he opened the trunk before heading around to the back of the house again.
Returning a few moments later, he had Tyrone's body in his arms, the noose still around his neck. While it probably seemed risky even to him to carry a corpse around in the daytime, who was going to stop him? Dumping Tyrone and his noose into the trunk, he reached into his jumpsuit and pulled out both a small, blood stained towel and the sheriff's revolver, dropping them in on top of Tyrone before closing the trunk.
Opening the back door of the car facing the house, he then disappeared behind the house again, only to return once more, with Lonnie's body in his arms that time. Laying Lonnie's body across the back seat, he closed that door, only to climb in himself, start the engine again, and drive off, leaving the house mostly as it'd been before the girls had headed off to school that morning.