Dwight was currently stuffing homemade Halloween cookies into his mouth, tasting the slight fragrance of baked chicken as he inhaled the scent. Meg watched him with a soft snicker before nibbling off dripping icing as well. Her compliments were to the baker, as the little ghosts and pumpkin cookies had a very delicate balance of icing and cookie. Though she wasn't hungry, she had the keen idea that they hadn't eaten anything in several days.
Off to the side, Jake was staring at a fire that had surged from the soot-kissed fireplace. Laurie was standing by the window, keeping the curtain peeled back as lightly as possible. "I don't know what he wants from me. I also don't know why the town is so empty." From the window, they could also see the red and blue lights of police sirens flash, but they all knew that the only soul there was just the young girl herself. From where Meg was, she could see her hands shaking, even as she felt the safety of the kitchen knife sitting at her belt.
"His name is Michael Myers," Jake said, causing Dwight and Claudette to look up from their cookie plates. Meg faintly wondered if this was fourth-wall breaking in some way. "He was your brother and was convicted of a crime before adolescence, so you were transported to a different family at the time."
Dwight nervously drank his glass of milk before speaking. "S-Should you really be saying that so abruptly?"
As they all stared at him, Jake looked up and over to them, his dark eyes as fiery and determined as they usually were. "If she needs to know, she needs to know. Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that he's coming out to kill her. Or us." He pulled away from the fireplace, his arms folded and his jaw clenched. "The Entity is after all of us, and seems to be recruiting more than just those who died and want revenge. This is more than that."
"So you're saying," Ace began, "is that The Entity is the big bad reviving or making more big bads?"
"That's exactly it." He then held up the journal and laid it down, flipping through the pages and letting everyone else lean over, like curious children over a teacher's book.
"The longer we're here, the more we meet, the more pages there are." He glanced sharply towards Dwight, who nearly choked on his cookies. "Some of us can see things others can't, and it might only be a matter of time before things begin to change."
"Oh!" Claudette seemed temporarily elated at her discovery. "You mean, like a computer update?"
Jake nodded and Meg watched him clutch at the table. "This is a game to The Entity. And we have to get a way to win. Soon."
"And how do we win?" Laurie countered. "Do we even win?"
"Hope." Meg stood up and moved to settle the plate on the nearby countertop. "We can't lose hope. If we lose hope, we turn into dead men and women. Just like them."
Ace snapped. "That makes sense. If people lose hope, they will no longer play the game and strive to win. But are we playing into the game, or what?"
"That's what we don't know," Jake muttered, moving to lean against a nearby wall and looking out the blinds. Meg watched the flashing lights sparkle on his face before she turned away, tapping the countertop nervously. No one was safe now, and if people from movies and stories were here...
Was it truly a movie, or was it possibly a legend that had been buried for the sake of humanity's sanity?
For the first time, they began to sleep, curling up comfortably on the recliner, the couch, or even on the floor. The warmth of the fireplace, the soft music of Halloween spirit and the sweet smell of desserts was as soothing as home.
Meg slept only for a little time before being awakened by the soft snoring of Dwight, who hugged a blanket like a 5 year old and their stuffed animal. She sighed and rolled her eyes, eyeing Nea who was asleep on the floor about as heavily as a drunkard. From where she laid, she watched the female breathe softly and then exhale, her muscled biceps shifting only slightly with her widening ribcage and diaphragm.
Slowly, the athlete removed herself from the floor, feeling the slight indention of the carpet along her arms. As she did so, she eyed Jake, whose hair was damp from a recent shower. They shared a passing glance before he nodded towards the shower, not losing her eyes until he turned away. She nodded in response before walking towards the bathroom. Maybe this time, she would actually get a shower without someone staring at her, and her clothes getting drenched.
It was unknown how long she took, as she soaked for longer than what she figured she would have time for. The hot water was a blessing, as well as the fresh scent of shampoo. Vanilla. Wonderful.
She walked out eventually, running the towel wildly through her hair before being followed by a brush from Laurie. Not once did the female take her eyes off the road that casted its way along through to the next town. Or, at least she thought it would be. According to the blond, there was something wrong. Once she had tried to run through the fog that was thicker than a fur coat of rabbit hide, but she ended up on the opposite side of town, grazing Michael's knife.
As she braided her hair, the sudden gasp from Laurie caused her to jump. What she feared the most was about to happen as Laurie finally tore herself away from the window, moving to smack, literally smack, everyone awake. It wasn't hard to hear the smack from every cheek as she used a good amount of adrenaline to provide pain.
"He's here," she muttered, making her rounds and forcing everyone awake. Meg watched Dwight sit upright, his glasses and tie already askew before he was standing, looking like a dazed Bambi. Everyone seemed to get the gist of what was happening, and Meg felt Claudette and Dwight both find her hands. Security took ahold of her chest, allowing her to breathe easier as she passed the two a quick smile.
"Thanks, guys."
With little else said, they all followed Laurie, who was mumbling about something that related to the generators. Formally, she had no idea what they were used for, nor had she tried to fix them. Now, it seemed she was more annoyed at the fact that they all had to fix them to get anywhere.
"Six generators," Ace said, soon softly whistling under his breath. "Can't wait for this." Only an exasperated sigh mustered itself from Jake, who honestly looked ready to grab a gun and shoot someone. Probably anyone who screamed "bullshit." He eventually turned around and motioned to Laurie, Ace and Nea. "You all find a generator on your own. Those few are...a little worse for wear."
No one complained as everyone seemed to move away, hiding well within bushes, behind trees, cars and even in swimming pools that they would regret swimming in later. Meg, Claudette, and Dwight all stayed together, keeping their heads down and listening well to the wind that grazed the backs of their necks and up their shirts. Claudette let go of them twice to keep her sweater more tightly around her frame while Dwight muttered something about the cookies keeping him warm. Truthfully, Meg felt the same way, but had to swallow her chuckles.
Ba-thump. Ba-thump.
In seconds, they were letting go of hands to mold themselves into the bushes of the neighboring house they were hiding near, having almost enclosed on a nearby generator. This was almost one of the most uncomfortable things Meg had to do with her body, save for straining it for a game. The branches were surprisingly sturdy, although some of them were stickily enough to jab like needles into her arms and sides, making it impossible to run out if she got caught here. The others must have felt the same way as Claudette cursed about the pain of one of them nearly poking her eye out, if it hadn't been for her glasses.
The heartbeat got closer, and for the first time, Meg thoroughly saw the stain of red on the ground. A shudder and chill simultaneously swept itself up her spine, like a soft breath of air from death itself as the boots of Michael Myers crept by. The way they walked on by reminded her of the Trapper, but the soft, nearly invisible blood droplet stains made her think otherwise. Another shudder almost caused her to vibrate the depths of the bush and she had to sit as still as possible as he stopped pacing by.
Those thick boots slowly maneuvered around, the dirt softly flicking up to kiss the toe-tips of the rubber. The heartbeat thumped heart in her ears as she practically felt her own heartbeat echo through her ribcage. His excitement, if he even could feel it, was coursing through her as fast as her dread as he slowly paced around, the knife glinting deeply. The idea of that encasing itself near her throat brought her nausea.
Taking in a quick breath, she then held it hard within her diaphragm, hoping to keep steady as he stood.
This situation reeked of a dysphoria, wrinkling itself through the passing seconds of the lifespan she felt slip by like breath between the leaves of the forest. There was something that she couldn't put her fingertip on, as though it was slipping by like a cloak of the wicked.
r.
The thought struck her so harshly, she tapped her teeth into her lower lip, hard enough to extract blood like sap from a tree. Barely did she pay attention to the pacing boots and the heavy heartbeat that resounded like a war drum, even as they faded away. Like a warning sign, all she could understand was the true terror of a murderer; true, cold blood for the sake of looking for a high that could not be received.
"Meg?" The voice of Claudette caused her to jump, to the point where she flung herself out of the bush and nearly into the not-so-perfect picket fence of white. Even the beautiful white paint was chipped away at like hope from their souls.
Sheepishly, the blond turned around, feeling as though she now had heavy bags under her eyes and the relaxing time was all for naught. "Yeah—" She paused and straightened. "Actually, no. I'm fucking terrified." She looked to her shaking hands, unable to stop the motion. "I'm not cold, but I'm shaking like hell. I know we've categorized those other killers as cold-blooded…well, murderers, but…"
The athlete felt something much more hideous holding onto the white-masked Myers as he stalked. The idea of him even looking at her brought sweat along her spine.
"He scares me more than what those other few ever could have. Sure, they're terrifying, but him…"
Dwight grabbing her hand caused her to jump, but only for a moment as he began to tug her and the botanist along as gently as he could. Meg stole a glance at looking at his hands and, not once, did she find his fingers nor wrists shaking out of fear. For another rare, blue moon moment, Dwight was taking a leadership role and moving forward with little—hell, with no hesitation!
For a moment, Meg found herself to be admiring this pizza manager.
"Come on, let's keep going," he replied. "If we don't, then we will surely be in a worse position. Let's find the doors, start up the generators, or even the hatch. Somehow, I feel as if we won't get lucky a second time with it." With a soft and tender voice, he led them both towards the nearest generator.
Claudette and Meg shared glances for a moment before deciding to, bluntly, cut the crap and work as hard as they could. They couldn't afford to fall behind one another if it was for their sake of survival.
It was very little time into it did Meg glance up. Something felt wrong. Off. Claudette clearly felt the same way and was quickly turning white in the face. It was clearly visible as the tint of her lips slowly faded into sick pale color. Honestly, it was a shock to see.
Dwight looked up, his glasses glinting slightly in the light of the moon and the flashing lights of those police vehicles. "Keep going. We're nowhere near done yet."
"Dwight," the blogger muttered, having to pull her hands away as they were trembling violently, "I-I have to stop. I feel- I feel awful." Clutching her gut, the female tore herself away from the generator and purely vomited up anxiety, nausea and stress right into one of the gardens of the many homes of Lampkin Lane. Meg removed herself instantly from the machine to sprint to her, holding her bangs away from her face and patting her back.
Keeping to himself, Dwight stayed on the generator, though was clearly worried. Meg could practically read his face of worry of "Was I too mean?" It was the way he pinched his lips and became fidgety did she understand he was losing his sense of being good at something.
"Keep working, Dwight. We're nowhere near done yet," Meg called, giving a quick smile of reassurance as she recycled his words on him. To her relief, he paused in his work and smiled in return before looking back at the wiring through his greasy fingers.
And then, something happened. A noise of familiarity filled the air, with a tune matching the horror they had felt then as they worked. Even if one has never seen the Halloween movies, one knows the theme song. With the sound of crackling radios flipping stations, their attention had been caught just before the theme—his theme—played through the radios like an awful reminder of something to come.
"What was that?" Claudette gasped, hearing the tune embed itself into the air for only a few seconds of agony before the distant tunes turned back. They all shared a glance around before Dwight spoke softly, confirming their previous fears.
"He's here."
All at once, Meg felt as if their gaze finally met on the foreign object creating this uneasy air. Something was manipulating the area and maybe...
She glanced skyward for a moment, wondering if she would see a leering face up above in the sky, along with those spindly legs that hooked onto prey. Not a face, nor a glowing eye of red could be seen from here, not even the single trace of shadows that shifted like wispy smoke. So then, what was this feeling that they were feeling?
Claudette's scream brought her back to reality, making her head whip over towards the sound. It was as instinctive as a reaction from a meerkat family giving out warnings for others and despite how they wished to remain humane, they certainly felt like animals.
The hunter was there with his face of white, merely peering around the edge of the perfect white house with eyes that were darker than manmade obsidian. Like a statue, he merely stood, feet as unshaken as the stakes of an iron fence as Meg felt horror swell inside of her at a speed she never thought could happen. The ever-grinning mask of the Trapper, the rag-doll movements of the Nurse, nor even the chainsaw of the Hillbilly could instill this into her.
There was something wrong with this man.
Wasting little time, the three turned on their heels and ran. Meg turned so sharply that she felt the grass from beneath her feet kick up, causing her to slide temporarily before she thrusted herself forward after her companions.
Just like that, they split up. There was no way that they could all stay in one area unless they all wanted to die. Meg thought of this, but Dwight was the first to make verbal note of it by raising his voice.
"We'll meet up later. Just be sure to do your best!"
Meg didn't say anything, but glanced once more at them before tearing off down the sidewalk. Her footsteps were louder than what she wanted, but goddamnit, she couldn't afford to slow down! A panic was settling into her core as she turned and sprinted up the nearest porch. The cement slapped beneath her feet before she felt her soles kiss the wooden floor just before she darted into the nearest closet, just now hearing the music shift again to his theme again. A horrible reminder.
The metal was cold against her body as she closed the door. She attempted to be speedy and as quiet as possible by shutting the door fast but letting it click softly at the very end. In silence, she ducked down and put her face in her hands, shivering violently.
This feeling—I'm going to die, oh my God, I'm going to—
The heartbeat thumped in her ears once, then twice, and then once more just as the shadow of Myers collected itself just above her frame. Meg didn't dare look up out of fear, even though it was useless. It was truly in vain as he opened the door with a soft squeal of the rusted and chunky hinges.
A cold hand gripped at her hair, turning it once around between his fingers. She threw her hands up to his hand, feeling the frozen fingers entwine themselves once again before he pushed her face into the wood. His grip wouldn't resist in the slightest as he dug his knuckles deeply into her scalp, forcing her nose to painfully smash into the ground.
"No! Fuck, goddamnit, no!" She couldn't tear away as he placed his knee on her back, forcing her furthermore into the floor of the closet.
Her screams reached only those nearby as warmth flooded from her back towards the floor. Like a cloak of crimson, the blood spread from her back towards the floor from stab after stab after stab.
The screams died away slowly with a simple choking noise as Meg was unable to survive the brutality, blood rising to her throat and forcing her to shut up.
Death was not so inviting as she laid lifeless.
Michael stood slowly, looking upward towards the spider legs of the Entity that delicately ran the tips down Meg's coated back.
Well done, Michael Myers. Such a good boy for me. That's right. Catch them all. Leave your little sister for last.
Michael turned his neck towards the rooftops of the homes, eyeing Laurie fixing a generator with a focused and beautiful face.
Look how beautiful she is. A perfect kill that will satisfy you again, and again. No one else can. A euphoria waits for you. You can have her once I get the rest. Now be a good boy and find them all. Kill them all.
With a crack of his knuckles as he gripped the kitchen knife ever tighter, he began to stalk the next person that he could find, looking for anyone that could still scream for the Entity.
For once, Meg had been correct.
happy halloween
