Danielle lay in bed in Michael's arms, getting close to sleep. She felt a lot better following her meeting with Stacey that day, or rather their meeting. She rested her head on Michael's shoulder, as the killer continued stroking her back. She noticed how tenderly he was doing so, so as not to hurt her scarred flesh. She realised this was one of less than 10 times Michael had seen her naked. It'd only happened since they got together of course.

"Michael," she murmured. "Darling, can I show you something?" The second word had just slipped out and she wondered how he'd react, but he simply kissed her mouth, placing her hands on his ears. Danielle took a deep breath. She'd wanted to do this for a while, even before they became a couple. But tonight was time, she knew it in her very heart.

She let go of Michael's left ear and took one of his hands, slowly guiding it across her body, each and every scar. As she did so, she told him how she'd got each one. The cigarette burns, cuts with a knife if she didn't wash up, wash his clothes, answer her phone, was late home, or dared to speak to him without his say so.

Finally, she placed his hand on her inner thigh, very close to her vaginal entrance. "I got this one," she said very quietly. Even though there was no one around to hear. "The day I tried to hang myself. Adam cut me with a knife while he was slashing my trousers off to rape me. I'm not sure whether he meant to do it or not, but it bled so bad it almost killed me on its own from blood loss. Luckily the ambulance staff acted super-fast, thanks to Nigel. I really hope you meet him one day Michael, I love that man as a grand dad."

She could almost feel the killer's anger as his finger rested very lightly on her most intimate scar, but then he removed his hand, pulled her back to him and kissed her again. Now Danielle couldn't stop herself. This was something she'd only done with him once way back. Now, it was for real. She moved back up so her head was on his shoulder and for only the second time, moved her mouth so it was against his right ear.

She was sure she heard him softly chuckle as she did so, but this time she slowly moved her lips across it, hearing his sharp intake of breath, before she very softly nibbled the top of his ear. Michael's arms tightened, but she knew he was trying to suppress his reaction for her. She leant down and kissed him.

"I love you, Michael Myers," she whispered. "I love you so much! God I find your ears fucking sexy! I meant what I said that very first time you know. One day soon, I promise you, I won't want you to stop. I want to be yours in every way, Michael and if you'll let me, I will be some very soon day."

He resumed stroking her back as she rested back on his shoulder, her favourite pillow. He moved his head again so she was touching his ears. Unable to help herself, she nibbled the top of his left ear this time and heard his quiet chuckle.

"Hmm," Danielle sighed happily. "So comfortable." She felt his arms tighten around her, and pressed her face against his neck, then softly kissed it once, twice. The killer raised his head and to Danielle's surprise but delight, he kissed hers in turn as she had kissed his.

Let Adam try what he wants! Danielle thought as she cuddled close to Michael, closing her eyes in utter contentment. I'm ready for him! Michael Myers of all people has shown me I can beat him! I can win! You will never control or torture me again, Adam Dawson. God help you if you try! Have you dug your grave yet or made the headstone? I'd start now if I were you, especially if I'm still in your twisted plans. You want to die soon? Then keep coming after me for your death warrant.

…

The clock is ticking on Derek Chancer's chances.

The 28 year old killer from Haddonfield responsible for the brutal rapes and murders of no fewer than 42 women in 5 years, is condemned to die by electrocution in old Sparky. His Lawyer Aiden Thompson told this newspaper, "I am doing all within my power to save my client from the death penalty, but even if I succeed in this endeavour he will face life imprisonment."

This statement has caused public outcry from friends and family of Mr. Chancer's victims.

"He deserves to die," said Samantha Lever, sister of Rachael Lever, Mr. Chancer's 8th victim. "We've never stopped grieving Rachael, and the thought of her killer still living when she is no longer with us is something we won't stand for!"

Miss Lever's statement is far from the only one. When we here at Haddonfield's hottest Hype were the first to reveal Mr. Chancer had been caught, there was celebration country wide.

One thing our one lucky reporter here at HHH who was allowed close enough to see Mr. Chancer escorted with maximum security in to Death-Row, did note the woman killer had very red, swollen and badly bruised ears. Both of them. How this happened, we do not know.

A complete list of all 42 names is at the bottom of this article. The mayor of Haddonfield is asking for volunteers within the town to aid in the building of a memorial to the victims. If you would like to help, please use the Email address at the top of this page.

Rachael Lever.

Sarah Goodall.

Amy Richards.

Sally Webber.

…

Mark Sarcozi felt physically sick as he scanned the newspaper in front of him. How had it come to this? The little boy he'd met when they were 6 at school a woman killer and rapist? Now facing the electric chair? Mark knew he'd done the right thing leaving him behind. With friends like that, who needed enemies after all?

But even at that age, Derek had shown glimpses of the evil man he'd become. Mark remembered the very first one only too well. Thinking back over the 3 times he'd had to visit his former friend in Smith's Grove, Mark couldn't understand why he'd even agreed to do it, money be damned. Ok, so his bank balance had grown a great deal, but it felt like small consolation for all those women who were now dead thanks to Derek Chancer.

Mark looked back at the quotes from families of the deceased and found he agreed. Derek did deserve to die. It would bring closure to so many families and friends of his victims. Mark privately suspected Thompson had said what he had to provoke this response. That even the Lawyer was hoping Chancer would be executed and a protest might help his cause, while at the same time looking as though he was "trying to save his client."

Don't bother, Mark thought. He's beyond any kind of saving now. Try as he might, he couldn't get that first day meeting Chancer out of his mind. Even then he should've known something was wrong, even aged 6. But none of them had any idea just how evil he would become.

…

"Ok," Miss Tapper called, silencing the 20 children in front of her. "You all now have a piece of playdough and I want you please to make it in to your favourite thing, then tell us what it means to you and why. It could be hobbies, people, whatever is closest to you. You can work in pairs if you wish. You have an hour."

Mark sitting near the front knew exactly what he was going to make. His ambition was to be a famous racing driver, become world champion. Reaching for his rolling pin, he began to roll the dough flat. The 2 assistants with Miss Tapper were keeping careful eyes on them, considering they were children with rolling pins and cutters, hazards if not controlled correctly.

Making a racing car was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. He reached for a cutter, they had one which was car shaped and placed it in the middle of his flat dough. The result was nowhere near as good as he'd hoped.

"I can make that a much better car," said a voice to his left. Mark looked around and saw that another class mate was now sitting next to him. The boy had short black hair and piercing, cold blue eyes. "That's what you're making right?"

"Yeah," Mark blushed. "I want to be a world famous racing driver.

The other boy's lip curled in what looked to Mark like a smirk or a sneer of contempt, but he said nothing, just started helping with his car. By the time they were done, Mark was very proud of their work but hated the fact the other boy had been right. He had made it a lot better than Mark would or could ever have done. That stung.

"What's your name?" Mark asked him.

"I'm Derek," the other boy said. "Yours?"

"I'm mark."

"Nice to meet you, Mark." Then, he started to laugh. "Ha-ha a racing driver, get on your marks!" He seemed to find this hilarious. Mark looked away.

"What are you making?" Mark asked Derek, who had now started on his. To Mark, it looked like a long box with decorations around the edges. Mark dived in enthusiastically and helped Derek as he had helped him.

When the hour was up, Miss Tapper called the class to order and went round the room asking them about their shapes. There were pets, family member's mom and dad, and one little girl had tried to make a pair of scissors because she wanted to be a hairdresser when she grew up. When it came Mark's turn, he showed his racing car and said his ambition was to be a world famous driver.

When Derek Chancer stood up when Miss Tapper called on him, he held up his box shape.

"Ok Derek," Miss Tapper said. "What is this? What does it mean to you?"

"It's a coffin," Derek said quietly, but clearly. Everyone heard. A few girls squeaked. "It's a box for a dead person."

"Ok," even at 6, Mark knew Miss Tapper was taken aback at the very least by this choice of shape. But she rallied almost at once. "What does that mean to you, Derek? Do you want to be an undertaker when you grew up?"

"Yes Miss Tapper," Derek said. "An undertaker of revenge, of justice."

…

Mark shivered, remembering this as if it'd happened yesterday. Miss Tapper had asked Derek to stay behind after class and asked him privately about it. Mark had only found this out years later. Derek had told him the teacher had said he had to be very careful saying things like that and asked exactly what he meant. She'd also told the headmaster about her concerns.

Mark suddenly felt a lurch of horror and scanned the article, but there was no sign of a Lorraine Tapper in the list of names. Clearly she hadn't been targeted by the killer in her classroom that day.

Yet somehow, they became friends and remained so for 10 years. Until Chancer first raped then killed a woman. That was when Mark knew he needed out.

Of course, how were any of them to know what Derek actually, really meant? If Miss Tapper had told Derek's mother, that would've been useless considering she loved her little boy, saying he wouldn't "hurt a fly." Now Mark understood why. She too was bent on revenge against women and would protect her son at any cost. After all, they only had each other now after his father had left them for another woman, starting this hellish chain of rape and death.

Even during those brief visits he'd made to his former friend, Mark knew he was just as dangerous as he always had been. He had no idea what the eventual outcome of the iPod thing was, but quite honestly was glad he didn't. It wasn't his business after all. But he still stood by his private hopes that Danielle Hayward wasn't hurt as a result of any of his actions. If he could go back and do it all again, he'd have refused when first asked. He'd been weak, thinking of money alone. He hated himself for that. Let Chris Leach do what he wanted, but Mark Sarcozi was done with him or his crime. He fully intended to get back on the right path, leaving Derek Chancer to fry in the chair. Mark would be glad when it happened. He even wished he could pull the switch.

…

1 week later.

Despite his continued longing and desire to punish both Charlotte and Danielle, Adam had to admit his father had had a point. Claire Richards was a fucking gorgeous bitch. He'd done the same as he had with Charlotte, faked sadness at his breakup with her and Claire was more than ready to run in to his arms. For the last almost fortnight Adam had been Mr. nice guy, trying as hard as he could to stay patient until his real self could come out yet again. Claire was only too willing to let him fuck her, all be it he was only pretending to ask her consent. God help her if she'd said no.

Leach's gang of misogynists were the best thing that'd happened to Adam recently. They hated women with a ferocity Adam had been longing for. The only woman they weren't allowed to touch was Tulip, or Sharon, Leach's deputy. If Adam was honest, given the chance he'd do just that. They were obviously scared of Leach, cowards. Adam's annoyance with the crime Lord was not something he would hide. How could he not re-instate a smaller contract for him to pursue Charlotte? Why the hell would Michael Myers give a damn for Charlotte Avery? Danielle, ok. But Charlotte?

Slamming his front door that night, Claire was dutifully waiting for him. Good. "Haya babe," Claire said, smiling at him. Adam clenched his fists internally. I'm Sir to you, bitch! He thought viciously. But that had to wait. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to smile back. "Hey darling," he approached and kissed her passionately, holding her tightly. It may have seemed romantic to her, but in truth it was to try and show her without actually doing so that she wasn't going anywhere, she was his.

He'd met Claire a few times in his local bar and had made his move to capture her immediately. Just as he had hoped, Claire didn't believe a word of the press article about his trial. "You're way too nice for that Adam," she'd gushed, batting her eye lashes at him. Adam felt his cock harden. Fuck she was gorgeous. He was going to have her tonight. "It's all a bunch of lies and I know it. I've liked you for ages. I can't pretend otherwise! I'm so glad you've broken up with that Charlotte."

"Thanks babes," Adam had said, walking her back to his house like a true gentleman. Claire had said she'd love to come back with him. It wasn't long before he was fucking her. Right then, he knew she was his last conquest. He'd marry her, force her to stay with him to obey, get fucked and so on.

Claire was 25 to his 32, but that didn't matter to him. Young, naïve, easy target. Adam had often smiled at his date of birth, 06/06/1966. He saw it as a sign. An omen perhaps, pun intended.

Now, Claire came in to his living room carrying his dinner. She seemed to enjoy doing things for him. That was even better. "Sorry," she blushed. "I love you; Adam and I want to do this for you."

Get used to it, Adam thought. Because soon you'll have no choice on pain of rape or beating. Maybe worse.

"Thank you babes," Adam said, sitting down to eat as Claire brought her food in. Oh no, that would be stopped soon. She wouldn't have his nice stuff for much longer. She'd make do with a sandwich or something very soon. Adam couldn't believe how stupidly easy it'd been to get Claire in to his house and consequently, his trap. He'd assumed rightly. Women couldn't resist his good looks and fake charm. They were throwing themselves at him. Right now, Claire still lived with her parents, but that wouldn't last long. He'd sweep her off her feet, he sneered at the romantic saying. Sweep her in to hell was probably more accurate. Unless she was one of those bitches who secretly loved being dominated, controlled. If so, even better. He'd still beat her sometimes just for his own kicks though, however obedient she was to him.

"I've got to make a phone call babes," he said when they'd finished dinner. "I won't be long and then I want to take you to bed and fuck you all night!" I'm going to was what he really wanted to say, but he knew he had to be careful. Not yet, too fast. Claire smiled at him seductively and he almost grabbed and fucked her there and then over the dining room table. "Ok darling," she purred. "Sounds good to me." Adam again wanted to tell her she had no choice in the matter, but stopped himself. He headed in to his bedroom and locked the door so his bitch couldn't get in until he or rather his cock, was ready for her. Pulling out his phone, he dialled Ashley's number. There were some men in the misogynist gang he'd almost call friends already. It was so nice to talk to men who had the same view as him. That women should be locked up, beaten, raped. Views the stupid authorities were too cowardly to make legal. If he ever got in to government one day, he'd do just that.

"Adam," Ashely said when he answered. "What's up my man?"

"Ashley my good fellow! Can I talk with you about something? Are you free now?"

"Yes, in person or phone?"

"Well if you can do in person brilliant! I'll be there now! I just have to secure my bitch!"

"Perfect. I'll see you at mine in thirty minutes? I need to secure mine too, get her out of our way. Private man's business and all that."

Adam laughed. "I hear you Ashley. Thanks. Will any of the others be able to make it? I want to run this past a few of us."

"I'll make some calls Adam. See you in thirty." He was gone. Adam whistled loudly as he headed back downstairs. Now the only problem facing him was how to stop Claire leaving while still looking "kind." Adam sneered at the word. Oh he couldn't wait until all pretences could be gone. Claire would be put in her proper place, his property, subordinate to him. It wouldn't be long now; Adam was determined on this.

"Babes, I have to go out. I'm going to lock the door to keep you safe, ok? There's a key in the box on the side by the door but please don't use it unless you have to, wait for me my darling and I'll fuck you later all you want."

Claire smiled at him and Adam wanted to punch her. "Ok Adam, see you soon darling." Just as well she hadn't asked him where he was going, or he may very well have lost his temper and hit her. That would be bad at this very early stage. What Adam was really saying was if you leave I'll know and you'll be badly punished.

"I'll be checking the key is there when I come back," he said. "Just to make sure you haven't touched it or lost it." He left before she could answer. Damn he had to be careful but fuck he hated women. They belonged beneath men and subordinate to them in every way. As Adam climbed in to his car, he wondered how many cunts had just been locked up by their men for this male only meeting. Smirking, he headed to ward's Ashley's huge house. Whatever crime he dabbled in was clearly profitable. Adam hoped he'd get his hands on some of that crime soon. Especially if it made money like Ashely and some of his fellow misogynists had.

When Adam arrived, 6 men were waiting for him, making Adam smile broadly. There were 6 other misogynists with him and they would help him somehow. Some of their misogyny made Adam's look tame. He would learn from these men.

"Dawson!" Ashley clapped him on the back. "Come in Sir!"