DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Halloween series in any way =(. But I DO own Katarzyna "Kat", Emelyn "Emmy" and my other OCs.
PLEASE READ!
AN: Hello my lovelies! Sorry for the delay but life as a college sophomore is not as fun as it's made out to be haha. Also a random note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! (October 4th)
As a quick recap from my last note, I just wanted to say that "Hearts and Daggers" will be coming to an end soon unfortunately. I'm not sure when cause there is a lot I want to still happen and fear not, there may just be a sequel ;)
Also, I have an idea for what I want to do but I'm not sure how well you guys will like it (NOTHING BAD, I'M NOT KILLING ANYONE) but I'm not sure yet. Maybe I should make a poll. If you want me to do that so you all have a say in the outcome of the story put in the reviews or PM me!
Also, I had to do some math with this chapter because it mentions a date from Kat and Michael's childhood. Since I was going off the remake, the year Michael killed Judith was Halloween 1992 (so much later than the original Halloween timeline) in case anyone had any questions about it later on.
Onwards with the story!
Chapter 24
RECAP:
Now, I stood in front of the old door, feeling my heart beat heavily in my chest while my stomach did somersaults. If Michael was down there, this would be the first time I would have seen him in over a year. Would he be the same as he was before he "died" or did he turn back into the cold, ruthless killer I had met when I first moved back to Haddonfield?
There was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open…
/oo/
Stagnant air hit my face the moment the door was open and I was met with the dark stairway. I moved to hit the light switch, breathing a sigh of relief when the warm yellow light, illuminated my path. Just as I touched the first step, however, I heard a faint crackle before the light flickered and I was once again thrust into darkness.
Just my luck.
Returning to the kitchen, I rummaged through the drawers until I found a working flashlight; Michael and Emmy may have had impeccable night vision, but I didn't and the last thing I needed was to break my ankle from falling down the dark basement stairs.
"Let's try this again," I muttered and flicked on the switch. The flashlight wasn't the brightest but it provided just enough light for me to navigate my way down, unharmed. The stairs creaked under my weight as the air seemed to slowly grow colder, goosebumps forming on my arms. I fought the shivers that were running down my spine, focusing all my attention on the sounds around me, hoping that Michael would slip up and reveal his presence.
I could feel the cold concrete through my shoe as I stepped off the last stair and took in the dark room. I would often daydream about how Michael would have turned such a dreary place into a bedroom, but something told me he would keep it the way it was, save for maybe a carpet.
The space was empty except for a few storage containers and the heater and sump pump that were hidden within the little nook in the back corner of the basement. Taking a deep breath, I slowly began to sweep the room with the flashlight, only pausing before the mattress came into view, trying to prepare myself for anything. But when I moved the flashlight to brighten the last bit of the basement, there was nothing there.
I was alone.
I couldn't help but let a pit of disappointment fill my stomach as my heart dropped slightly. He had to be here, he had to be alive. He destroyed the house to get my attention, left me a note basically telling me where he was. Maybe he wasn't the Michael he was before the incident. Maybe he did revert back to his old ways, which included avoiding me in a cat and mouse game.
Sighing, I walked over towards the mattress, stopping a few feet away and kneeling down so I came face to face with familiar carving in the concrete.
Michael A. Myers and Kat M. Bury
October 31, 1991
The date had been exactly one year before Michael killed Judith and the others. It had taken a good three hours to fully engrave the words into the wall, as well as two knives breaking in the process, much to Michael's frustration at the time.
/oo/FLASHBACK/oo/
"Damn it!" Michael swore as he threw the second knife away, the broken blade making a terrible sound as it skidded across the floor.
"Do you need another one?" I asked.
"No, I plan to carve the rest of it using my nails!" he growled sarcastically, before disappearing up the stairs in search for another knife. I knew he wasn't really angry at me, but rather how flimsy normal kitchen knives were. Ironically, Michael never had much patience with his blades growing up.
When he returned he was brandishing a large butcher knife and immediately set back to work carving in the date. I had been trying to ignore the harsh sound the metal made against concrete, but it was getting harder the longer he worked. Finally I heard him give a relieved sigh and drop the knife on the mattress.
"Done," he said with a proud smirk on his face. I looked at the words, tracing the letters with my fingers before smiling happily.
"You better not cover this when you move your room down here," I warned.
"After all the time I put into carving it?! Hell no," he almost sounded insulted at the accusation. He stood up and brushed off his costume pants, picking up a large jack o lantern bucket.
"Let's go before all the good candy is gone," he said. We spent a good half of the night running all over Haddonfield, collecting as much candy as we could before returning to the Myers basement where we traded sweets until we both fell asleep. I was pretty sure Deborah had taken a picture of us the next morning before waking us up.
/oo/END FLASHBACK/oo/
A fresh wave of sadness and disappointment filled me as I let myself sit on the mattress before laying down, the fresh smell of fabric softener hitting my nose. Emmy always made a point to get the sheets cleaned every week in case Michael did come back he would, in her words: "Have a nice bed waiting,"
Last night, Emmy had snatched the sheets from the clean laundry as soon as they were done and disappeared downstairs for a couple of hours before returning with a proud smile on her face.
I continued to stare at the concrete wall, my body relaxing into the old mattress, momentarily forgetting where I was. Sighing on more time, I let myself close my eyes and begin to fall into another daydream.
The sudden sound of something scraping against the concrete shattered the silence.
I sat up sharply, ignoring the blood rush to my head as I stared into the darkened room. The flashlight had rolled away from me and was casting a dim light over to the far side of the basement, leaving everything else in darkness. Another scrapping noise echoed and I lunged for the flashlight, refusing to let my body curl up into a ball as I sat on the mattress, scanning the room with the little light I had. I slowly stood and took a few steps forward. My breathing was coming out heavier as I tried to tell myself not to freak out; it was probably Michael taunting me.
"And if it isn't Michael…" my mind trailed off at the sudden feeling of a presence behind me.
My body was frozen in place, unable to even attempt to turn around, even when I felt something cold and sharp brushing down my arm; applying just enough pressure for me to feel it but not hard enough to actually break skin. At least, I hoped not.
Everything seemed to stand still as the sharp tip of the object reached the top of my wrist, right where the limb met my hand that was holding the flashlight. My free hand, which I had unconsciously rested on the waistband of my jeans, reached over and began to slowly pull out my dagger.
I don't know why I thought that would be a good idea because I suddenly felt a large hand wrap around and grab my wrist, keeping it still, my blade pressed against the skin of my hip while the sharp pressure on my other wrist grew ever so slightly. I was trapped.
In a blur of movement, I found myself in the air and landing on the mattress which knocked the wind out of me. I heard the sound of my dagger clatter against the ground while I coughed and gasped for breath.
The figure loomed over me, the flashlight having flown out of my hand once more, leaving us in shadow. My eyes tried to adjust to the darkness as the figure knelt down and leaned towards me. I felt my heart stop and my body freeze, no longer trying to catch my breath. It wasn't until the shadow turned its head to the side that I realized only one person had such a signature move.
"Michael," I breathed, my eyes finally adjusting as I stared at the white mask. My body remained frozen, too nervous to make a sudden move and have him lash out. Relief and anger both flooded through me. Relief that he was alive and angry because he hid himself from me for so long; let me suffer for an entire year thinking he had died for good. Letting Emmy think he was gone forever.
"You have no idea how mad I am at you right now," I breathed, staring into his black eyes. He didn't move, didn't react at all to my voice. The sharp pressure previously on my wrist, which I now knew was his knife, was still in his grasp, except now it was resting beside my head. The sharp edge cold against my ear and I knew any fast movement would leave me with a new cut. Over the year, all my wounds had finally healed, aside from the deep gash in my shoulder that had become a jagged white scar; it would always play a cruel reminder of the only time Michael physically hurt me.
I took a few moments to take in our position. His body had moved overtop of mine, one leg on top of my mine, the knife wielding hand against my shoulder pushing me further into the mattress, and his other hand over my throat using just enough pressure for me to know it was there. He was ensuring I couldn't get up unless he allowed it.
I gathered as much courage as I could and lifted my hand to rest on his wrist that connected to the hand holding the knife. He still made no movements, only staring intently at me as if trying to predict my next move.
"I don't know whether to shout at you or hug you but both options are out of the question at the moment considering our position," still nothing, "You know, I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs,"
His hands flexed and I was briefly worried about the grip on my neck growing any tighter but breathed a small sigh when he finally moved his hand, pulling it away and placing it on the other side of my head. Neither of us moved after that.
In his entire year's absence, I tried to imagine ways we could have reunited. But everything seemed far too out of character for him and I would find myself becoming depressed at the memories that would be triggered because of such daydreams.
"Michael," I whispered again and that finally seemed to break something in him. His free hand suddenly grabbed my hair and twisted his fingers into the chocolate locks, yanking my head backwards so my neck was exposed. I got a few ragged breaths out, willing myself not to panic, before I felt him pull my upwards and then false lips were pressing against my mouth.
I wasn't sure how to react; this was the LAST thing I expected from this encounter. I was able to lift my hands and rest them on his forearms, the uncertainty in my movements blatantly obvious. I didn't know what to do.
"You know exactly what to do," my mind corrected, "You're just too scared to,"
I felt crazy, mentally arguing with myself. I wanted to deny that I was scared, that I was simply overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events and how much Michael was acting anything but himself at the moment.
"Maybe he got a head injury when he collapsed last year," my mind continued to reason, "He hit the ground pretty hard after getting pelted with bullets!"
Realizing that I wasn't responding, I felt Michael grip my shoulder tighter, his other hand twisting in my hair harshly, causing me to involuntarily whimper from the pain. Maybe he was still recovering, maybe he had a head injury after all, maybe he would realize what he was doing any moment and shove me away in blind rage…
"There is only one way to find out," my mind taunted.
"Then shut up," I mentally growled and all voices in my head stop leaving just me and Michael. I opened my eyes, not knowing I had even closed them in the first place, and saw Michael staring back at me with clear blue eyes. The faintest bits of black swirling behind them. It was then I realized I had actually spoken out loud...
He turned his head to the side, studying me. No doubt I had confused him with that random outburst. Taking a few deep breaths and swallowing any of my remaining worries, I locked eyes with him.
"That obviously wasn't meant for you," I said awkwardly before finally surging up as far as I could with him holding me down. Thankfully, it was just enough for my lips to connect with his masked ones once more.
After all, it wasn't every day that the person you love comes back from the dead.
/oo/
(DEDICATION CHAPTER TO MYSELF FOR MY OWN BIRTHDAY!)
(Emelyn "Emmy")
When we lived in California, I would have sleepovers with my friends during the summer when there was no school. I was always the prankster of the group; placing rubber bugs and reptiles in sleeping bags was my signature. My real specialty though was telling the best scary stories that would keep you awake for a week at minimum.
When Cara first came to me with the idea of a sleepover, I wasn't sure what to say. Living in Haddonfield for almost two years, I had quickly gotten used to the idea of being an outcast, being known as Michael Myers' daughter which made me basically untouchable. I was still getting used to the idea that I had a friend here, in fact, Cara had become my best friend and that was something I never had. None of my old friends did I ever consider a best friend.
"So, do you believe in Bloody Mary?" Cara asked, bringing me out of my thoughts. She was brushing her hair in front of her mirror, getting a few knots out before bed. After telling a few ghost stories and urban legends back and forth, we had decided to test the age old theory of Mary.
"Not really," I shrugged, "It sounds kind of stupid when you think about it. A girl trapped in a mirror for all eternity and attacks only when you say her names three times in the dark,"
"I think you're just scared to do it," she said smugly, placing her brush down.
"I am not!" I argued, "Have you ever done it?"
"No," she shrugged.
"So how do I know you're not scared?" I demanded.
"I'm not," she said, "I just don't want to do it alone,"
"So you are scared!"
"I am not!" she stood and stormed over to the light switch and within seconds the only light left was her dim desk lamp.
"So, why aren't you scared?" she asked.
"I'm the Boogeyman's daughter!" I laughed, "I have no reason to be afraid of anything!"
She nodded and walked over to her vanity mirror, staring at her reflection as I walked up beside her. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes.
"Why aren't you afraid?" I asked, not failing to notice the dark tone my voice had taken.
"Because I have my best friend with me," she said, "And she's the Boogeyman's daughter,"
I smiled, which she easily returned before taking my hand and we returned to looking at our reflections. Simultaneously taking deep breaths, we began to speak in unison,
"Bloody Mary,"
"Bloody Mary,"
"Bloody Mary,"
A knock at the door left us both shrieking as Oliver pushed the door open and running in, clearly in a panic.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"We thought you were Bloody Mary," Cara whimpered as she and I held each other. She pulled away and turned to me.
"I thought the Boogeyman's daughter wasn't afraid of anything? Especially Bloody Mary!" she yelled.
"Well when the person next to you starts shrieking, it's only natural that you follow suit!" I yelled back.
"What's going on?" Dallas called as he ran into the room, looking from Oliver to me and Cara.
"They were playing Bloody Mary when I knocked on the door," Oliver explained, rubbing his forehead. Dallas gave a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall.
"Well, I guess that heart attack I just had was for nothing," he tried to joke.
"It's the first of many," Oliver said before turning back to us, "I was just coming to see if you girls were ready for bed,"
"I don't know if I can sleep now," Cara said. I nodded in agreement and went to my sleeping bag where my stuffed bunny rested, lifting it up and clutching it to my chest. Cara went to her bed and did the same with her teddy bear.
"Maybe I should sleep in your bed," I said to her, "Just so we aren't separated if she comes,"
"Good idea," Cara threw her covers back and I jumped up, pulling the comforter over us. Oliver and Dallas watched the entire scene with amusement as they both began to tuck us in, each giving Cara a kiss on the cheek.
"Goodnight girls," Oliver said, "and don't worry, Bloody Mary isn't real,"
"Yeah, if she was, Cara's Aunt Sasha wouldn't be here today," Dallas added, "She used to play that game every chance she got with her friends,"
"We'll take your word for it," I said uneasily as we watched the couple leave turn out the light and leave the room. More than anything I wished that Michael was there, standing in the corner of the room, waiting for me to fall asleep; his way of putting my fears at ease.
I took a deep breath and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows from outside dance along the surface. I listened to Cara shift beside me and curl up into a ball before turning to face away from me. Her breathing was slow and even, meaning she had already fallen asleep.
My grip on my bunny tightened as I turned my head to lock eyes with my reflection in the mirror. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. Bloody Mary never scared me. I used to dare kids to do test the urban legends themselves. But this time, I was on the receiving end and I didn't like it one bit.
I wasn't sure how many hours passed with me looking from my reflection to the shadows on the ceiling to back at my reflection again. I could slip down to the kitchen and call home so mommy could tell me that Dallas and Oliver were right, that there was nothing to worry about. But I couldn't leave Cara alone…
Just as I was finally managing to close my eyes, a sudden movement from the shadows caused my eyes to burst wide open. My heart was beating wildly as the movement continued and I sat up in bed, biting my bottom lip painfully. My eyes were quick to adjust to the darkness again and I easily made out a large shadow that could only belong to one person.
"Michael!" I whispered loudly and slipped out of the bed, careful not to jostle Cara and wake her up. I ran over and quickly gripped his leg, momentarily forgetting my fear. I felt him lift me and I squeezed his neck quickly before pulling away.
"You smell like mommy," I said. I could recognize my mom's perfume anywhere and for some reason, Michael smelled a lot like it. Did he finally reveal himself to mommy? But why would he smell like her so much?
He turned his head to the side and placed me back down. I shifted my weight from foot to foot and looked anxiously at the mirror again.
"Hey Michael, did you and mommy ever play Bloody Mary?" I asked, looking up at him. He just stared for a few moments before giving a barely noticeable shake of the head.
"So you don't know if she's real or not," I pouted, "Cara and I said her name and now we don't know if she is going to come out of the mirror and get us,"
"Can I sleep with your knife under my pillow just in case I need to defend myself and Cara?" I asked. I shifted my weight again before Michael lifted me up again and carried me back to bed. He pulled the covers over top of me and then walked over to my sleeping bag, which was left abandoned on the floor, and picked it up. I watched him walk over to the vanity and threw the sleeping bag over the mirror, covering the glass completely.
"Now she can't escape?" I asked hopefully and was rewarded with a barely there nod. I smiled widely and curled back under the blankets.
"Just be sure to be gone before everyone wakes up," I told him drowsily, "This family is still off limits,"
I tiredly noticed him walk to the window and open it before climbing out of sight. In the back of my mind I noted that we were on the second floor and I got back out of bed, looking outside, but there was nothing there. No body in the yard, no one walking away. It was like he vanished in thin air.
"He needs to teach me that," I whispered to myself and went back to bed. I spared one last look at the now covered mirror and felt any worries I had earlier leave me, letting me fall into a peaceful sleep.
AGAIN PLEASE REVIEW (or PM if you prefer) IF YOU WANT ME TO PUT UP A POLL TO LET YOU GUYS DECIDE IF I SHOULD GO THROUGH WITH MY IDEA FOR THIS STORY!
Review! Okay, so this bonus chapter may not be the best, it may even be a little bad, but it's very late/early here and I'm half-awake so hopefully that is a valid excuse lolz. Not sure when next chapter will be coming, but hopefully it won't be too long a wait. Until next time,
Read and Review!