Luan guided a group of kids through the haunted house and did the only thing she knew how to do: Told jokes. Vampire jokes (why did the vampire get fired from the blood bank? He got caught drinking on the job!); Ed Gein jokes (why doesn't anyone want to play poker with Ed Gien? He might come up with a good hand!); and jokes about every other ghoulish and ghastly topic she could think of. It was Halloween, after all, and if she didn't get all of her morbid jokes in now, she wouldn't have the chance again until next year. Those kinds of jokes are okay at Halloween, but if you tell them any other time of the year, you're "weird" and "messed up." Oh well.

Dressed like a mime, Luan had been operating the speakers and smoke machine but Leni and Lori were both MIA so she had to take over for them. She didn't really mind, since it gave her a captive audience. Benny laughed at everything she said (he was really cute and she kind of like-liked him), Clyde chuckled, Becky and Dana rolled their eyes, Poppa Wheelie ignored her, and Chandler just nodded, looking unimpressed.

"What did -?"

Without warning, a gnarled and fire-scarred hand broke through one of the cardboard walls and snatched Dana's hair. She screamed and thrashed, and the rest of the group gasped in surprise. Hm. Nice effect. Luan put her hands on her hips. "I knew this tour was hair raising, but this is ridiculous."

Another hand punched through.

It was holding a knife.

Luan started to crack another joke about Dana living on the edge, but the knife flicked across Dana's throat, and the splatter of blood across Luan's face stopped her dead.

This wasn't part of the act.

Dana held her open throat in her hands, gasping like a fish on dry land. Blood oozed through her fingers and she slid down the wall, slumping to one side. Everyone stared at her in shock, not sure what they were actually seeing. A man in a white mask burst through the wall and that's when it sank in. Everyone screamed and started to panic. The man grabbed Clyde's hair and slammed the knife into one of his ears, then ripped it out. Blood, brain matter, and bits of ruined ear drum oozed from Clyde's ear and he collapsed. Becky tried to ruin past him, and the man responded by grabbing her hair and bringing the knife up. It jammed through the bottom of her jaw, tacked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, and severed her optic nerves; she died screaming and crying in darkness.

Wailing in horror, the crowd scattered like roaches and ran in every direction. Chandler knocked one of the walls over to get past, and Poppa Wheelie ran screaming for the door. Luan was frozen in place, watching with wide eyes and a slack jaw. The man came toward her, but Benny stepped between them. "Leave her alone!" he screamed.

The man snatched him up by the front of his shirt, spun him around as effortlessly as a sign spinner twirls a cardboard placard, and slammed him on the concrete floor head first. His skull burst like a rotten cantaloupe and brains spurted across the floor.

Some of them landed on Luan's shoe.

The man came for her again and she started to scream.

A loud rumble filled the garage. The man turned just as Lynn appeared with the chainsaw, her jaw clenched. She brought it up and slashed it down across his upper arm, ripping his overalls and sawing into his flesh.

No blood came out.

The man turned to face her, and Lynn swiped the saw across his stomach. Black, decomposing intestines spilled out, and a stench like death rushed over Luan. The knife fell from the man's hand and he staggered backwards, his guts winding around his foot and almost tripping him. Lynn held the saw over her head, let loose a high pitched battle cry, and rammed the saw into his side. He jerked and fell against the wall, collapsing it.

Panting, Lynn threw the saw aside and ran up to her older sister, who stood there with big eyes and chattering teeth. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Luan stammered out an unintelligible reply.

"It's okay," Lynn said, "I got him, look."

She pointed to the spot where the man's body had been.

To her amazement, he was gone.

October 31, 1996: 10pm.

Tommy Doyle was watching the house across the street and spotted the first sign of trouble as it happened. A group of kids ran from the garage screaming and flailing their arms, terror stamped on their features. This wasn't the pleasant kind of fear you'd expect from someone who had just gone through an ultra-creepy haunted house but the mind-bending horror of someone who'd just seen a real life monster.

His heart skipped a beat.

Michael Myers was here.

As if on cue, the man in the mask appeared from behind the garage, walking casually toward a bunch of kids milling among the phony tombstones. Tommy's stomach twisted and he got to his feet. "What's happening?" Kara asked from the couch.

"He's out there," Tommy said. "I see him."

Danny shivered and hugged his mother.

Tommy told himself that he wouldn't be drawn out, but as he watched Michael Myers approaching those kids - those poor, dumb kids who had no idea how much mortal danger they were in - his resolve broke. He couldn't let this happen. Their blood would be on his hands. "Stay here," he said. "And keep your gun ready."

He was already at the door, already undoing the locks. He pushed through and ran out into the night, hitting the sidewalk just as Michael began closing in on the kids. Tommy raised the AR, wedged the stock against his shoulder, and jerked the trigger. A burst of fire caught the monster in the arm and the side of the head, knocking him slightly off balance but failing to stop him. At the sound of the shots, the kids all screamed and started to run.

Tommy ran across the street and paused at the bottom of the slanted yard. Michael Myers turned and looked at him.

Raising the gun, Tommy emptied the clip inro his head and torso.

He barely flinched.

Kids ran around in a panicked mass. Tommy reloaded but couldn't get a clear shot. Someone ran between him and Michael, and suddenly, Michael was holding a white haired boy off the ground and strangling him while Lucy kicked and punched him. Without a single thought for his own safety, Tommy ran at Michael and hit him hard across the face with the stock of the rifle. It cracked and the gun flew away, landing in a bush. Michael dropped the boy and stumbled back but didn't go down. A year of pent up rage and fear come over Tommy, and screaming, he launched himself at Michael. He crashed into the Shape and knocked him down. Someone, Michael got on top of him and started to choke him.

Lucy ran over and hit Michael in the back of the head with a rock, knocking him over. He got up and lunged for her, grabbing the front of her dress. He yanked her off the ground and Tommy could only watch, stunned and barely able to breath.

"Michael!" a voice yelled in the distance.'

Tommy knew that voice,

Dr. Loomis.

Tommy sat up just as a tall, muscular man appeared in front of Mjchael. He wore brown slacks and shoes, but no shirt, his thick toso bared to the world. His teeth were crooked and his skull slightly misshapen. His eyes gave the impression of vacancy, and instead of speaking, he only grunted. He pointed at Lucy and then away.

Understanding, Michael tossed Lucy aside and came at the man. He raised the knife, and the man grabbed his wrist, wrenching it to one side with an audible snap. Michael pushed against him, and the man dug his heels into the soft ground, his back bowing and his muscles straining. Michael headbutted him, and the man went to his knees. Michael grabbed him around the throat, and the man punched Michael in the knee. Summoning an impressive amount of might, he got to his feet with Michael still choking him and hit him with a series of deadly body shots. Michael grabbed the man's face and tried to hold him off, but the man kept pummeling him. Michael shoved the man back and came at him, and the man rocked his face with a wicked right-left.

Dr. Loomis was hobbling over, his brown trenchcoat fluttering around his knees. He looked much older and smaller than Tommy remembered.

Tommy only hesitated for a second, then he pulled out his .38.

He meant it.

He was going to kill the old man.

The giant grappling with Michael must have seen him, for he shoved the killer back and ran at Tommy with a babbling scream. He slammed into Tommy just as Tommy pulled the trigger. The shot went wild and disappeared into the night. Tommy hit the ground and the air left his lungs in a rush. The giant got to his feet and started to raise his foot for a beatdown, but Michael was suddenly on top of him. The giant punched Michael once, twice, three times, each blow enough to kill ten normal men. Michael responded by grabbing either side of the man's head and squeezing. The giant tried to buck him off, but Michael only squeezed harder. Wincing in pain, the giant sank to his knees. Blood trickled from his nose and his nails dug into the backs of Michael's hands, ripping his flesh.

"Micheal!" Dr. Loomis yelled. "Stop!"

He was still fifty feet away, maybe more.

The giant was grunting in pain and fear. Michael squeezed harder, panting in excitement at the killer. The giant's eyes bulged from their sockets. Blood leaked from them, his nose, his mouth, and his ears. In one last ditch effort to make him stop, the giant grabbed a handful of Michael's crotch and twisted back and forth.

It did nothing.

Finally, the pressure was too great. The giant's eyes popped wetly, thick, whitish goo splattering Michael's pants. His skull caved in and blood rushed out of his nose, along with bits of human debris. Loomis reached them, out of breath, and Michael let the giant go; the man flopped limply to the ground, dead. Michael went at Loomis, but Loomis held something up and he stopped in his tracks.

A rune.

Snapping out of his daze, Tommy reached for the run in his pocket and realized with a sinking feeling that it wasn't there anymore. It must have fallen out.

He looked around for it but didn't see it. Damn it, damn it, damn it, Instead, he went for the revolver, which lay in the grass, but a boot crushed his hand. Suddenly, armed men surrounded him. They grabbed him and dragged him to a waiting van. He fought and screamed, but it was useless.

"Come, Michael," Loomis said softly, "it's time to finish this. Then we'll be free. Both of us."

Michael tilted his head to one side.

The trapped little boy, if he existed at all, understood.

And meekly followed Loomis to his freedom.

October 31, 1996: 11pm

Lucy Loud sat dazedly up just as the van sped away in a squeal of tires. Lincoln staggered over and fell to his knees, angry purple bruises covering his neck and blood staining his upper lip. Lucy shook her hand and got to her feet. Sirens rose in the distance and someone closeby was sobbing.

It took a moment for Lucy's head to clear, and when it did, her heart sank. The Thornes had Tommy, and probably the others too.

Including Danny.

"We have to stop them," she said.

"How?" Lincoln asked.

She didn't know. She just watched Michael Myers - with his guts spilling out and an ugly gash on his arm - take two clips from an assault rifle like they were drops of water. The Thorne Cult...God only knew how many members were around.

Plus...where did they even go?

She ran her fingers through her hair and took a series of deep, calming breaths. She had to think quick but she had to think rationally. She looked around for some sign, but there was none. She was alone and the decision was hers to make. She started toward her bike, but her foot kicked something and she stopped.

An oddly shaped rock was lying in the grass.

And it was glowing.

Lucy picked it up, and the moment she touched it, she knew everything: Where they were going, what they were doing, when they were going to do it. She could see Michael sitting in the back of a swaying van across from Loomis. Loomis was speaking and affectionately patting Michael's knee, but she couldn't hear what was being said. She somehow knew that just from being close to Michael, the rune had absorbed some of his energy...some of his essence. She knew his emotions, knew that on some level he still existed not as a mindless murderbot but as a human being.

This all broke over her in an instant and her eyes widened. "I know where they are. We have to hurry."

"Where?" Lincoln asked.

Ignoring him, she ran to get her bike from beside the house. Lincoln called her them, then started after. His gaze landed on something in the grass and he stooped to pick it up.

A revolver.

They might need this.

Being careful that he didn't blow his own willie off, he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and followed Lucy.