Chicago, Illinois

Karen and her father followed Nicole Campbell, an attractive red-headed nurse, down a long hallway until they reached the teenager's new room. Nurse Campbell unlocked the door and urged them to take a look around. The room housed all the necessities one would need—a bed, writing desk, closet, and a private bathroom—however, despite these accommodations, it still felt like a prison cell to Karen.

David set her luggage down in front of the closet's wooden doors and said, "Well, I suppose I should leave so you can get settled."

Karen nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller," voiced the nurse. "We'll take very good care of her."

"Be sure that you do," the cop warned. He gave Karen a tight hug. "I love you," he whispered into her ear. More loudly he said, "I'll call you tomorrow evening." He held her out at arm's length and gave her a long look. Finally, he released her all together. "Good-bye, Karen."

"I'll see you later, Dad."

Nurse Campbell shifted uncomfortably, obviously feeling the tension between the father and daughter. "Come with me, Mr. Miller. I'll show you out."

Once David and the nurse left her room, Karen sauntered over to the bed and sat down on the firm mattress. Even though she had taken a nap in the car, she still felt exhausted. She leaned back onto the pillow that was propped against the headboard. Her father wanted her to stay here until she got better, but for all she knew, he could return at any time to take her back. She wouldn't—couldn't—wait for that to happen. She had to leave and go someplace where she could heal, away from his reach, if that was even possible.

Michael had spoken the truth to her in the barn: he wasn't her Boogeyman; her father was. David Miller had deprived Michael of that particular role in her life the moment he had stolen her innocence. She assumed that was why Fate had led her to the infamous killer that day and why it had seen it fit to unite them once again. Michael Myers was the only one who could truly help her.

A clap of thunder startled the teenager from her thoughts. The light in her room flickered and then went out completely. She blamed the sudden power outage on the storm until she sensed a familiar presence nearby. Michael was somewhere in the building!

Karen instantly leapt out of bed and ran to the door. She was about open it when the doorknob turned under her fingertips. She took a step back. She barely waited for the door to open before dashing into her lover's arms. She tightly hugged him, her body shaking against his. It wasn't until he firmly pushed her from him that she saw he was wearing his white expressionless mask. He didn't say a word to her, just intensely stared at her with his ebony eyes.

At long last, the killer dropped his hands from Karen's shoulders and turned towards her room. With purposeful strides, he entered it. She lost sight of him in the blackness, but a few moments later he reappeared at her side, holding her luggage. Relief flooded into her. He, too, obviously knew that she couldn't stay in this place.

Michael gave Karen her small bag of toiletries to carry. Then, he moved to stand behind her. He wrapped an arm securely around her midsection, pulling her extremely close to him. The darkness suddenly spun around the couple. One minute they were standing in the hallway; the next they were getting pelted by raindrops. The shock of the experience completely overwhelmed the younger's senses. Her body promptly went limp in her lover's embrace as she lost consciousness.

The Shape's strong grip on Karen kept her from falling onto the wet asphalt. He hoisted her over his shoulder and effortlessly carried her, plus her luggage, to his car. After placing her in the front passenger seat, he shoved her wet belongings onto the floor behind her.

By the time the killer entered the Buick, Karen was shivering. He hastily started the vehicle and turned up the heat. He considered changing her into some dry clothes but then decided he shouldn't take such liberties without her content. If she wanted to make a stop before they reached Waukegan, he would certainly oblige her. In the meantime, he took his mask off and set it between them, giving his own face a chance to dry. Now that he was alone with his lover, there was no need to for him to wear it.

Michael had been driving for about twenty minutes when Karen began to stir. He glanced over at her just in time to see her eyes slowly open. A look of panic crossed her expression, but as soon as her wandering gaze landed on him, the fear dissolved into obvious relief.

"I thought I was dreaming," she said, "but it really is you."

Michael reluctantly returned his attention to the heavy Chicago traffic. "Who else were you expecting me to be?" he asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Karen's head shift in the direction of his mask.

"The Boogeyman," she quietly replied.

When Michael stopped for a red light, he faced his companion and asked, "Karen, what happened to you last night?"

She hesitantly raised her eyes to meet his. "I don't want to talk about it," she said.

The light turned green, and Michael had no choice but to start driving again. His lover's stubborn refusal to answer his inquiry actually came as a surprise. He had expected her to be more forthcoming with him. "Karen, I'm just trying to help you," he gently assured her.

"I know," she retorted. "I'm just not ready to talk about it right now. I promise I'll tell you about it later."

Her response left the killer less than satisfied; however, at the same time, he knew better than to press the issue. "Very well," he conceded, ending the conversation.

Karen kept quiet during the majority of the drive. She seemed content just staring out the window, watching the world go by. It wasn't until they passed a Waukegan road sign that she finally turned her attention back to him.

"Dawn paid you a visit, didn't she? That's how you knew where to find me."

Michael gave the teenager a sideways glance. "She never formally introduced herself," he stated, "though, I admit, the name does fit."

"Yeah, it does," Karen agreed. "She's a good friend of mine."

"Yes, I figured that, which is why I refrained from killing her."

Michael could feel his partner's dark eyes boring into him as she said, "I thought you only killed on Halloween."

"When a person comes into my house looking for me, the rules change, Karen. I am not going to be held accountable for one's stupidity." The killer momentarily paused and then continued to say, "Nevertheless, Dawn does seem to have a pretty sound head on her shoulders. I can see why you chose her as a friend."

"I didn't exactly choose her," the teenager informed him, "but it did end up working out well." She inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I just wish I hadn't involved her in this," she finished softly.

"Karen, you can't blame yourself for the decisions others ultimately make."

"No, I suppose not."

Silence, once again, fell over the couple. This time Michael was the one who eventually broke it. "We're here," he announced.

Karen squinted out the windshield. "I don't see anything," she argued.

"Dawn's aunt and uncle's house lies just beyond those trees," he said. "You shouldn't have any trouble finding it."

The teenager's face instantly paled. "Wait," she gasped, "you're not coming with me?"

Michael slowly shook his head. "Believe me, Karen, it's for the best."

His soulmate looked absolutely grief-stricken, yet she still stepped out of the Buick. Without leaving his vehicle, the killer passed her luggage to her. He instantly noticed her brown eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Karen," he groaned, wishing he didn't have to leave her in such a desolate state, "I will return to you. I promise." She offered him a sad smile and then pushed the door closed. He waited until she disappeared into the trees before spinning his car around. His next stop: Haddonfield.