Introduction:

Hi. This novel is very close to my heart. I am thoroughly enjoying this journey of writing a blind character meeting Michael Myers, even more so basing her off me. All Danielle's likes, dreams and so on are mine. As is her 15 percent survival rate. The rest is fictitious, well except Yes in case you're wondering, the ears and whistling thing is real!

I first met Michael Myers when I read the audio novel of the 2018 Halloween movie. Something about him fascinated me. His silence especially. I can't say why but I found it kind of sexy if I'm honest. His lack of remorse? Feeling? So then I started wondering, how would he react if he encountered a blind person such as me? Would he kill me on the spot or would my vulnerability reach him? That was the question which inspired me to write this in the first place. Jason Voorhees killed a paralysed guy in a wheelchair because he came on to his land. Myers doesn't seem to have a particular motive for his kills, it's just what he does. So would meeting a disabled person make him think twice? He didn't kill the baby in the 2018 movie and he could've done. Possibly a small glimpse of humanity from the masked killer? So then I had to consider the circumstances and background I'd use for this story and decided on Smith's Grove. A woman there following psychological damage, placed next door to Myers. How would they interact? Would he just ignore, or protect her?

Just one thing, I know full well iPhone's didn't exist in 1998 when this story is set, but I don't think it's too unbelievable to pretend they did, which is why I'm using them. Owning an iPhone myself I know how Danielle would use it which makes it easier to write. I have also updated this by giving it another edit, trying to get rid of any grammar/spelling errors. Thank you all and reviews would be really appreciated. Acknowledgements and so on will be put at the end of the story, but I wanted to give a little background for you all before you started reading. Thanks for your time!

Whistle-78

…

WARNING: This fic contains scenes some readers may find distressing such as domestic abuse, rape, violence, misogyny and attempted suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

…

Nigel Manning was used to hearing the couple next door shouting at each other. Correction, him shouting at her. Nigel knew the guy from having lived next door to him for 3 years and really wished he didn't on both counts. Adam Dawson was his name and it was clear to him that the man was a spiteful, misogynistic prick who got his kicks from openly hating and abusing women.

Nigel had lived in the same house for 20 years with his wife Sophie, who had died 6 months ago. Ever since the guy had arrived Nigel had discovered he was a grade a prick. Sophie had shouted at him constantly to slow down when driving. The guy drove like a lunatic and they lived near a school. Did he want to kill a child? He'd totally ignored her and Nigel knew why. Because she was a woman. So he'd called the police and they had pulled the guy over and warned him about his speed. For all the good it'd done.

Then Danielle had moved in with Dawson and Nigel's heart sank. A blind woman with a misogynist like that? He wanted to warn her, but knew it wasn't his place. She didn't even know him and would probably see him as the nosy old neighbour from hell. He knew how abuse worked. She wouldn't believe or trust him.

Sophie had cared about Danielle too, describing her as the daughter they'd never had. She was always trying to talk to her, make her tea and help her, but Danielle was always so quiet. Both he and Sophie were of the opinion Adam Dawson was abusing her, but Danielle never mentioned it. He'd had the impression Sophie was building up to ask Danielle soon, but before she got the chance Sophie was taken in to the hospital.

Everything had changed when Sophie had died of cancer. Danielle had somehow found out and brought him some homemade meals. Nigel then had to sit there that night and listen to the prick yelling at her for wasting "his" money on ingredients for that "old fucker next door." Nigel knew the guy hated him because of the driving thing, figuring he'd called the police. But Nigel actually hated him because of his downright barbaric treatment of women.

From then on, he and Danielle had talked. Her "boyfriend" was a self-employed builder so while he was working, Danielle would come out and knock on his door nearly every day. Finally, she'd broken down and told him the truth just the week before. It turned out he'd been right all along. The guy was controlling, having taken her money as his, not letting her work, she had to stay at home and wait on him hand and foot. That if he knew she was talking to him he wouldn't be happy. He'd tried to encourage her to call for help but she'd just smiled sadly at him.

He'd seen her cooking and had to admire how quickly she'd learned all on her own. He'd heard him shouting at her once for burning his dinner and had almost called the police for her, or at the very least banged on the door and told the guy to fuck himself. But he couldn't. He knew only too well of the harm this could cause Danielle. She would be the one in danger, not him if he did that. So he had to wait, much to his utter frustration and fury.

He'd asked her recently why she hadn't left him. She'd given him that sad smile again and said "he made me happy once." Nigel had asked how and she'd said he was once kind, did things she liked. That was when she'd told him of her love of whistling. How she knew when he himself was around because he always whistled when gardening or along with the radio and she heard him through their open windows in hot weather. Nigel had hugged her then, unable to stop he and she'd rested her head briefly on his shoulder. She'd previously told him how her parents had abandoned her because she was blind. "I love you Nige," she'd said then and he'd had to blink back tears, holding her as tightly as he could.

But tonight? This was too far. Nigel had always trusted his instincts and knew something bad was happening tonight, worse than usual. Watching through his living room window, he finally saw her emerging from the house and heading straight for the guy's garage. That set off the first alarm bell. She was totally blind and Dawson had dangerous and sharp power tools in there, which Nigel at least didn't want her getting hurt by.

He hurried out of his house and set off towards the garage, worry rising in him. What the hell was going on? Maybe the prick had sent her to get a tool for him, not caring if she got hurt? That as far as Nigel was concerned was too far. Then he saw him coming out of the house and following behind Danielle quietly, so she wouldn't hear him. Anger spiked in his chest. The bastard was using Danielle's blindness against her. He was about to step forward and confront the spineless worm, when he saw Danielle climb onto an old wooden chair, then what she was holding in her hand. A long piece of rope. Panic rows in his chest for real then. He broke in to a run, just as Danielle's supposed boyfriend closed and locked the door, putting the key in his pocket and heading back towards the house as if he hadn't seen Danielle was even in there. The son of a bitch was even whistling.

Nigel raced back to his own house and grabbed a sledge hammer and a lethal knife. Although he'd have to resist the urge to murder Dawson with it. As he ran back towards the garage next to his, Dawson came out of the house again carrying a vicious looking machete. He saw Nigel and stopped in his tracks. Nigel fought with everything he had to keep his mouth shut. He would see this bastard sent down but had to pretend he was none the wiser until the police got here.

Dawson was now standing in front of the door, half-heartedly hacking at it with the machete. But Nigel knew the guy knew it wouldn't work. He was doing it for show. In reality, he was trying to block Nigel from reaching the door. Nigel tried not to hate anyone, but right then he did, and he wanted to strangle the bastard. I swear to God, he thought. If he doesn't move, I might just use this goddam knife on him!

"Out of the way!" Nigel snapped at him, raising the sledge hammer. "Unless you want this on your fucking head!"

"I…" The guys stammered. "I'm trying to break down the door. I… I think she's…"

Yeah which is why you locked it and put the key in your pocket, Nigel thought with another stab of hatred. You lying motherfucker. You want her to die. Without saying anything further, Nigel raised the sledge hammer and swung it right into the garage door, just as there was a loud crash inside. Nigel knew Hayward had just jumped from the chair and didn't have to guess too hard as to why. He smashed his hammer against the door again. Once, twice. The door caved in and Nigel forced himself through.

The sight that greeted him made him blink back tears. He'd been right. Danielle Hayward was hanging by her neck, the chair now knocked over. Her so-called boyfriend was standing there frozen in shock, but Nigel knew it was fake. He'd wanted this to happen, which was why he'd locked the door. He even wondered if the Machete was to finish the job if the rope didn't work. Bile rows in his throat. Nigel didn't think he just acted, almost on autopilot. He sprinted to the hanging woman, standing on the chair he began cutting the rope as quickly as he could. Fortunately the knife was very sharp and it didn't take long for him to cut the knot she'd tied to one of the wooden slats above her head.

The guy had already run back towards his house, but Nigel knew he wouldn't call an ambulance or the police. Of course not. Seen as he'd brought this about by locking the fucking door. As he lowered Danielle to the ground, he noticed a deep cut running all the way across her right cheek which was bleeding profusely. He also saw that her trousers were ripped. That goddamn bastard had raped her; Nigel was certain.

Pulling out his phone, he dialled 911, calling for the police and ambulance. Within 5 minutes, they were there. Danielle was loaded onto a stretcher. Nigel had done basic first aid as best as he could, until the paramedics arrived. He'd made sure she was still breathing, which she was. She appeared to be unconscious. Thank Christ he'd acted so fast. As the ambulance sped off, Nigel told the police exactly what he'd seen, the guy locking the door and pocketing the key when he saw what Danielle was about to do. He watched, with a feeling of immense satisfaction as he was arrested and handcuffed. Hope they throw away the key, he thought savagely. That you rot in hell you abusive bastard!

When he got back to his house, the tears finally did come. Danielle had lived there for the past year and Nigel had taken her under his wing without planning to do so. He'd helped her out whenever she needed it, but only if she asked him. He knew how independent she was and wanted to be. She'd told him once she'd met her "boyfriend" at college but had never disclosed anything happening behind closed doors until last week. Nigel was certain that more than once she'd wanted to, and had come close to confiding in him, but she was clearly too afraid of her boyfriend. Nigel could only hope that now, she was free of him for good. No one deserved a man like that.

But if he could've read the thoughts of the man now sitting cuffed in the back of the cop car as it drove away, he would've been terrified. Danielle was far from free. The guy was already planning his revenge and to make Danielle suffer the likes of which Nigel would never have believed.

…

1 week later

Dr Samuel Loomis looked at the huge file in front of him with a heavy sigh, then leant back in his leather desk chair rubbing his eyes. This was certainly going to be a challenge. He knew as far as treating her he could do it; he'd been a psychiatrist for over 20 years, but looking after her was going to be another matter. It meant he would lose 1 of the guards to her care whenever she was out of her cell and while this didn't present a problem in itself, if there was trouble and her guard was needed she would be at risk. He hadn't read all of the file yet due to its size and only received it that morning, but he knew he'd have to put time aside for it before the next afternoon. The quiet knock on the door startled him. It opened and his PA Andria Pearson entered. He'd worked with her for 10 years. She was good, fast and hardly ever made a mistake.

"I just got the call your newest patient Danielle Hayward will be arriving tomorrow at 9AM Sam," she said. "They're checking her over one more time in hospital first."

"Thanks Andi," Dr Loomis smiled at her. She smiled back. She was a short woman, athletically built and with sharp, almost probing hazel eyes. Dr Loomis had often joked she should have his job. "I swear you can see right through and inside people with that gaze," he'd said more than once. "You should be a psychiatrist too."

"No thanks," she'd said with a laugh. "No to the job, but I'll surely take the pay!"

"Do you want a coffee?"

"Please Andi," she smiled at him again when he used her shortened name. "Thanks. As you can see, this'll keep me busy for a while." She disappeared and was back within 5 minutes.

Shortly afterwards there was another soft knock on his door and Dr Gemma Stark entered. "I did what you asked," she said without preamble, leaning against his desk. "I checked the cell list. Only one free in our ward is Room 8."

"Room…" Dr Loomis's mouth fell open in horror. "No, there's no way, we can't…"

"Do you have another suggestion?" Dr Stark looked at him levelly. "If we move anyone else it will completely disrupt their routine and you know what that could mean. They hate it. A full on damn riot Sam!"

"We can't," Dr Loomis said again. "Not next door to Michael Myers! The guy's pure evil there's nothing left, how many times have I told you that? Putting a totally blind woman next door to him, a woman who's already attempted suicide? We might as well give her a piece of rope again!"

"But he's not going to get the chance to touch her is he?" Dr Stark said patiently. "You know that. She'll have to have a guard with her all the time anyway to guide her around the place and in the yard, Myers is always chained to that concrete block. Out and about to a guard. What are you so worried about? When they're in their cells the doors will be locked. She'll be perfectly safe. They're just next door to each other. What's the big problem? Any problem you see now will be far out shadowed if we end up with a riot on our hands and you know it."

Dr Loomis sighed. He knew she was right but that didn't mean he liked it. In fact, he hated it. Of all the men she could've been placed next door to, why him? Michael Myers? "We will need to be incredibly careful, keep our eyes open for any trouble," Dr Loomis said eventually. "A totally silent killer, do you have any idea how easily he could take advantage of someone who won't even know he's there until it's too late? It's not like she'll see him is it?"

"Then we just have to make absolutely damn sure he never gets the chance to even get close to her," Dr Stark said. "I agree with you on this one Sam. We will have to be very careful. But we have some of the best guards in the country working for us, we can trust them. They'll look after her. We need to trust our staff for this place to run smoothly, Sam."

Dr Loomis bit his tongue. Who did she think she was to be telling him this? He had 10 years of experience over her, at least. She'd only arrived at Smith's Grove 3 years ago. Dr Loomis didn't appreciate being told what he already knew by someone under his management. Dr Stark must've seen something on his face because when she spoke this time her voice was softer, almost humble. "Sorry Sam, I know you know this and you're my boss, but there honestly is nowhere else we can put her. She needs more security than one of the lower wards from what I've been told and it's the only empty cell on our high level care ward. Even a cell number change could set some of those patients off. What else could I do? I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to tell you how to do your job boss."

Dr Loomis sighed but was unable to stop a slight grin. "That's enough of, boss from you Dr Stark. All right, I understand what you're saying. But as I said, we need to tell our guards to keep their eyes sharp whenever she's out of her cell. It's not just Myers either. There's lots of patients who… Well, you know."

Dr Stark nodded. "Indeed I do and I hadn't overlooked that either. Please don't think I was considering Myers as the only risk? But he's certainly the biggest. There may be nothing left as you say, but I think Michael Myers is far from insane just as you do."

Dr Loomis nodded grimly. "He certainly is. He's calculating, silent and dangerous."