Karen walked out of the small patch of woods only to come across a high wrought-iron gate. Her eyes instantly widened. A fair distance beyond the fence sat the grandest mansion she had ever seen. It sat perfectly situated on top of a small hill, overlooking Lake Michigan. She could hear the lake's powerful waves crashing onto the shore even above the noise of another brewing storm.
"Pretty, isn't it?" asked a soft voice.
Karen nearly jumped out of her skin. She had somehow missed seeing the elderly woman standing just to her left.
A large black umbrella hovered ominously over the woman's silver hair, casting a dark shadow over her face. She extended a pale bony finger out from underneath her burgundy cape and pushed a button on her side of the fence. The heavy gate creaked open on its rusted hinges.
The teenager hesitantly entered the vast front yard.
"Don't be scared, dear," the woman said. "We've been expecting you. Dawn phoned this afternoon, preparing us for yours and Michael's arrival."
Under the circumstances, Karen could not fault her best friend for betraying her secret about Michael. Dawn had every right to warn her relatives of the killer's involvement. Just because he had chosen to spare Dawn's life didn't mean he would extend that same grace to Dawn's family members.
The woman's alert gray eyes searched the area behind Karen. "Speaking of which, where is your companion?" she asked, frowning.
"He's gone," the brunette dismally answered.
"Don't fret, dear. He'll come back—in his own time." The woman directed the teenager towards the mansion. "Come; let's get you inside before it starts raining again."
"Who are you?" Karen suddenly asked. She sensed this woman was much more than she appeared.
The corners of the woman's mouth twitched as though she was fighting a smile. "Do I frighten you?"
"Yes and no," the teenager truthfully responded.
"Fair enough," the woman stated. "My name is Eleanor Helms. My son and his wife own this house. I've been living with them for a few years now. They're good people, Karen. They will keep you safe."
The brunette sighed. "I'm actually more concerned about Dawn. I hope she'll be all right."
"I'm sure she'll be fine, dear."
Despite the older woman's reassurance, the younger remained unconvinced. Once her father learned of her disappearance, Karen knew he would seek retribution—and the Johnson family would be the first to pay. Fear crept up her spine. Maybe leaving Glenview hadn't been such a wise decision after all.
"So much worry for someone so young," Eleanor quietly mused. She continued by saying, "No matter what happens, Karen, Michael was right to bring you here."
"I know," the teenager said as they climbed the front steps. "It's just that everything has suddenly gotten so complicated."
"Which is why it's good that you came to us." Eleanor opened the door and said, "Just leave your belongings here, dear. Our butler will take them up to your bedroom. In the meantime, I will give you the grand tour of the house."
Karen followed the older woman from room to room in silent awe. After Eleanor had shown her the kitchen; the study; the sunroom; the sitting room; the music room; and the ballroom, they stepped into an elevator and traveled to the second floor.
Ten suites later they finally reached the one designated for Karen. Like all the others, it was equipped with a King-sized bed; an ornate vanity; a walk-in closet; a large desk; a luxurious private bathroom; and a set of French doors, which opened to a balcony.
"So, what do you think?" Eleanor asked.
"It's magnificent," Karen breathed. "The entire house is. I've never seen anything like it before."
The older woman grinned. "I'm glad it pleases you, dear."
"There you are, Mother," said a man upon entering the bedroom. "Rebekah and I thought you were still outside."
"Even I have enough sense to come out of the rain," Eleanor stated, sounding a little disgruntled. "Nathaniel, may I introduce to you Karen Miller. Karen, this is my son Nathaniel Helms."
The handsome auburn-haired man cordially nodded and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Karen. I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances. Dawn informed us about your unfortunate situation."
"Oh?" the teenager asked. "And what exactly did she tell you?"
"To be blunt, Karen, she thinks your father is an evil man and that you should never go back to him."
"Well, she is right about my father," Karen reluctantly admitted, "but she doesn't know the half of it. No one does."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at her. "Not even Michael?"
The brunette wordlessly shook her head.
"Is he here?"
"No, he couldn't stay."
Karen did not miss the brief look of relief that passed through Nathaniel's hazel eyes. She supposed anyone would be happy not to have the serial killer lurking about—anyone but her.
"You should really change out of your damp clothes, dear," Eleanor said. She glanced at her son. "I've made her stay in them far too long."
"Yes, of course," Nathaniel agreed, keeping his gaze on Karen. "Just to let you know, we traditionally eat dinner at six. That gives you about an hour to get ready. Please, don't be late."
Eleanor and Nathaniel left the room, giving the teenager some much needed privacy. She unzipped her suitcase, which was sitting next to the vanity. Her father hadn't packed any formal clothes for her to wear, so she had to settle on a pair of khakis and a forest green knit top. Then, she grabbed her overnight bag and went onto the bathroom to take a hot shower.
Haddonfield, Illinois
By the time Michael reached Haddonfield, the needle on his Buick's gas gage had dropped down to "E". He cursed under his breath. If Karen hadn't shown so much concern over her friend's well-being, he would still be in Waukegan with her.
The worst part wasn't leaving his companion behind. No, it was the fact that she didn't believe he would return to her. Whatever had happened to her the night before had shaken her to the core. Seeing as though she wouldn't speak to him about it, he decided to seek out Dawn.
Her friendship with Karen placed Dawn in a unique position. As long as the two girls remained friends, Michael would never be able to kill the blonde girl. However, he was certain Karen's assaulter would have no qualms about doing away with Dawn, especially since she and Karen were so close. Michael knew Karen wouldn't be able to handle losing her best friend on top of everything else she had suffered; therefore, he had no choice but to play the role of protector to Dawn as well. But this rare act of mercy ended with her. All other individuals associated with the two girls remained threatened by his rage, just like everyone else.
Michael parked his car near Haddonfield Park. His keen intuition told him Dawn was somewhere close by. He concealed his face behind his mask and then left the vehicle. He followed the main path into the park.
The Shape was just rounding a bend in the trail when his ears picked up the sound of female sobs. He instinctively knew they belonged to Dawn. His eyes darted about until he finally saw her sitting within the deep shadows of the trees. He silently walked to her trembling form and dropped down beside her. It took her a full minute to realize she was no longer alone, unlike Karen who could always detect his presence quite easily. That gift is what set his lover apart from all the others, including Dawn.
"Michael!" the blonde teenager gasped as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Is Karen okay?"
The killer shrugged, which caused a look of concern to cross Dawn's pale face.
"Is she at least safe?"
He nodded.
"Did you take her to my aunt's house?"
He repeated the affirmative head gesture.
Dawn paused a long moment before saying, "As soon as Karen's father found out she went missing, he came over to my house to speak to my parents and me. One thing led to another, and I ended up asking him if Karen had, in fact, been sexually assaulted as a kid. You know what he said?"
The Shape shook his head.
"He said there wasn't any evidence to support her claim, so a report about the alleged assault was never filed." Another tear formed at the corner of Dawn's eye and slowly slid down her cheek. "He also said that around that same time, Karen starting blaming him for her mother leaving them and that she had just made up the story to get back at him for causing her so much pain."
The platinum-haired girl suddenly shifted closer to the Boogeyman, her expression full of earnest. "Michael, Karen's father has always controlled her life, and she told me it's because of what happened to her in the past. What I don't understand is if he didn't believe her, then why does he continue to be so protective of her? It just doesn't make sense."
The Shape leaned back in his heels as he contemplated the situation at hand. It seemed as though Karen's father was trying to protect her assaulter rather than his daughter. If that was the case, then who was he protecting—a friend; another family member; or, heaven forbid, he himself?
"Michael, are you absolutely certain that Karen was assaulted?" Dawn asked, interrupting his train of thought.
He soundly nodded. No one who had seen Karen that fateful afternoon would have been able to believe otherwise.
"Do you know who attacked her?"
The Shape audibly sighed and gave his head a negative shake.
"Do you think anyone does?"
The killer suddenly rose to his feet, startling the teenager. He beckoned her to follow him and began walking the identical route Karen had taken after her assault. Dawn fell into step beside him. She kept throwing him curious glances but remained quiet during their journey. Upon reaching their destination, he firmly pushed her towards the house Karen had visited almost a decade before.
Without hesitation, Dawn climbed the front steps. The Shape slipped into darker shadow while she rang the door bell. The same woman who had spoken to Karen all those years ago greeted Dawn now.
"Mrs. Hekman!" the teenager gasped.
The woman's blue eyes narrowed. "Were you looking for someone else?"
"No," the girl promptly answered. "You're the one I came to see. I need to speak to you about Karen Miller."
The woman's folded her arms across her chest and gave Dawn a hard look. "What of her?"
Undaunted by the woman's abrasiveness, the teenager said, "I have just learned that she was sexually assaulted as a child, and I am under the impression that you may know something about it."
The woman instantly shook her head. "I'm sorry, Dawn, but no one ever informed me of such an event taking place."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Liar," the Shape hissed through his mask's unmoving lips.
Dawn's expression darkened. "I don't believe you," she stated in a low voice, echoing his sentiments.
The woman sighed. "Dawn, if something like that had actually happened to Karen, don't you think her father would have notified the school about it?"
The girl remained quiet, but the Boogeyman could almost taste her anger.
"That's what I thought," the woman concluded. "Now, if you excuse me, it's getting late." She didn't wait for reply before closing the door in Dawn's face.
Disgruntled, the teenager turned and began walking towards the Shape. Once he knew she was no longer being watched, he joined her on the sidewalk. "She's lying," the blonde girl sourly accused.
He nodded in agreement.
"So now what?"
The killer's shoulders raised and then fell. His lover held all the answers, but until she was ready to talk, there wasn't much more anyone could do to help her.
"Do you think Karen will be okay?" Dawn asked. "Honestly?"
He nodded, though he knew the road ahead would be a rocky one for everyone involved.
"No offense, Michael, but I still think you should have stayed with her."
He gave his head a light shake and pointed to the girl.
"I don't understand," she admitted. "You came back for me?"
Yes.
She playfully batted her eyes at him, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. "Aww, Michael, that's so sweet. My knight in shining armor."
In return, he rolled his eyes and began walking down the sidewalk.
"Hey!" Dawn exclaimed. "Wait for me!"
He continued moving, making her jog up to him.
"Ass," she mumbled under her breath.
He simply shrugged.
"Aren't you afraid someone will see you?"
No.
"Darn it, Michael, don't you ever talk?"
He stared at the blonde girl but did not respond in any other way.
She sighed and said, "Karen's not much of a talker either. We've been friends for almost nine years, and I still don't know a lot about her. She keeps a lot to herself, obviously more than she should."
The Shape nodded. In the short amount of time he had spent with Karen, he had learned just how tight-lipped she could be. He felt Dawn's frustration, especially now.
The teenager didn't speak to him again until they reached her house. "I can't believe I'm asking you this," she said, "but did you want to come inside?"
Although he really hadn't planned on lingering, the killer accepted her offer with a short nod.
Dawn wordlessly led him into her home. At once, he smelled Karen's scent in air, and it had a startling effect on his anatomy. Thankfully, Dawn was too distracted to take notice of the change. He took a few deep breaths as he followed her up a stairway. By the time they reached the landing, his body had returned to its normal state—much to his relief.
The teenager showed him directly to her bedroom. His eyes immediately landed on a picture frame sitting on her desk.
"That was taken on Karen's sixteenth birthday," she told him after shutting the door. "It's the only one I have of us together. Karen's a bit camera shy."
The Shape moved to the desk and intensely studied the photograph of the younger version of his lover. She may have been smiling in the picture, but a shadow of fear shone within the depths of her dark brown eyes. Who's your boogeyman, Karen? he silently asked. Who is it that you fear most?
"Karen and I became friends a year after she met you," Dawn said, drawing his attention away from the photograph. "That's when my family moved here from Roselawn, Indiana."
She sat down on her bed. The killer didn't think it would be prudent to join her on the mattress, so he remained standing.
"My mom started watching Karen after school as a favor to her father," the teenager continued. She paused a long moment and then added, "He and my dad work together. They're both cops."
The Shape's eyes widened. No wonder Dawn had been shocked that Karen's father never reported the assault. As a man of the law he should have, so, again, why hadn't he?
"Michael, my parents don't know who to believe at this point. They want to think that Karen is innocent, but the evidence against her is damning. And let's face it, anyone who has seen her within the last few years will assume that she is the drug addict her father says she is."
The killer reluctantly nodded. No matter how much he wished otherwise, Dawn spoke the truth.
"Karen doesn't talk about her family very much," the blonde girl said, "but I do know that she and her father have a strained relationship, and according to her, it started going downhill soon after her mother left." Dawn sighed. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but do you think it's possible that he's the one who attacked her?"
The words Karen had spoken the night before clearly resounded in the Shape's head: 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. His blood ran cold. What if she hadn't been dreaming? What if someone really had been sneaking into her bed at night? What if her father truly was her boogeyman? The hatred the masked killer felt in that instant was stronger than any he had ever experienced before. All he knew for certain was that he wanted Karen's attacker dead.
"MICHAEL!"
The sheer terror in Dawn's voice snapped him back to his senses. To his utter surprise, she was lying beneath him with a horrified expression on her face. The fingers of his right hand were clenched around his knife's smooth handle while its sharp blade was pressed against her throat. Blood trickled down from a small wound where the weapon had pierced her skin.
The Shape hastily moved away from the blond girl and sheathed his knife. She shakily sat up and touched her neck. As his rage receded, it was replaced by an unfamiliar emotion—one he couldn't recall ever feeling in his entire existence—and that was remorse. He took an unsteady step backwards. He truly hadn't met to hurt the teenager.
"Michael, it's okay; I understand," she gently assured him. "I'm angry, too."
He nodded, grateful that she at least understood the reason behind his unintentional attack.
"How bad is it?" she asked. "Will it need stitches?"
The Boogeyman shook his head. Fortunately, he hadn't given her much more than a scratch.
Dawn slightly smiled and said, "I didn't think so." She reached over and grabbed a few tissues from her bed stand. After applying pressure on the cut for a few minutes, it stopped bleeding. "There," she said, throwing the wad of tissues away. "All better. Now, about my parents…"
The Shape tilted his head at her.
"I think they deserve to know what's going on with Karen."
He gave an immediate nod of approval. Karen needed all the support she could get at this point, and he was certain that once Dawn's parents learned the truth, they would side with his lover.
"I was also thinking about visiting her before school starts. Would that be okay with you?"
The Shape saw no reason to keep the two friends apart, so he shook his head yes.
"I know she'll want to see you again, too," Dawn timidly added.
This time the killer didn't respond, for that remained debatable. Karen's refusal to tell him anything suggested the presence of both shame and fear—two emotions that could easily turn her away from him when given time to fester. His departure may have upset her, but that didn't mean she would be happy to see him upon his return.
After her last statement, Dawn turned quiet, and the Shape quickly decided it was time to leave. She moved to stand, but he waved her to remain seated. He was more than capable of seeing himself out.
Within seconds of closing the bedroom door, the Boogeyman was striding back towards his car. He craved more answers about his lover's past, yet he had no idea where else to look for them. Admitting defeat, he entered his car and turned the key.
The Shape began driving up the road, planning to go home when a doe dashed out into his lane. In an attempt to save his vehicle, he instinctively turned onto a deserted gravel road, narrowly missing the large animal. Enraged, he glared at the deer through the rear-view mirror. Its black eyes calmly met his. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then, the creature bounded to the opposite side of the road and vanished into the thick shrubbery.
The killer shook his head, ready to put the whole incident behind him. It wasn't until he reached for the gear shift that his intuition told him to continue down the dirt road. He placed his hand back on the steering wheel and kept driving. A few miles later the road dead-ended. He exited the car, relying on pure instinct to guide his footsteps.
After trekking through a patch of dense woods, the Shape came to the same pond where he and Karen had met for the first time. He now knew she had been molested close to where he had parked his car. Although that was definitely a secluded area, why take her there? The place had to have held some significance for her assaulter.
The Shape turned and started backtracking to his vehicle. He scanned the ground as he walked, determined not to miss any clues that might explain Karen's attacker's motives for bringing her to this particular location. Nothing looked out of place, but something told him to keep searching.
As he was passing a fallen tree limb, the Shape's right shirt sleeve caught on one of its branches. He glanced down to assess the damage, and that's when he saw it. Entangled amongst the limb's dead twigs hung a tarnished silver necklace. A small cross pendant dangled from the chain. It was an exact replica of Karen's, except for both the color of metal and the birthstone that was imbedded in its center.
The killer didn't need to look twice to know that he had just found his lover's mother's necklace. He quickly noticed the chain was still intact, which meant it had been purposely placed on the limb. A grave marker, he grimly thought. Karen's mother was dead.
A single tear unexpectedly rolled down the Shape's face underneath his mask. It was then he truly understood just how much Karen meant to him. He hadn't shed the tear on her mother's behalf but because of the profound impact her death had on Karen's life. And still is, he thought ruefully.
The Boogeyman raised his head and engrained every detail of the section of woods into his memory. One day, he would have to return with his lover in order to give her closure. In the meantime, he wouldn't say a word about his discovery until she proved ready to confront her past—however long that took.
The killer walked away from the make-shift grave and swiftly returned to his Buick. He now knew without a doubt that Karen's father was the perpetrator of these heinous crimes. Even though the Shape wanted nothing more than to find and kill the cop, Karen deserved the chance to face her father first, especially after the hell he had put her through.
The Shape started his car. The lack of gas in its tank prevented him from going anywhere other than his house. Perhaps under the circumstances that wasn't such a bad thing. His intuition would tell him when it was the right time to return to his lover. Until then, he would simply wait.