Chapter Twenty : The Doctor

Halloween was a strange day of reckoning.

Once a day reserved for children dressed in dime a dozen costumes, begging adults for candy dissolved into subdued silence and sinister premonitions.

Michael Myers's escape last year was Dr. Loomis's greatest fear unleashed.

Until, his murderous rampage admitted him to Ridgemont Federal Sanitarium and the world looked less bleak than it had fifteen years ago when he first admitted Michael as a patient. Though, there were still nights where he'd jolt awake in a cold sweat, charged with tension. Nights where he would remind himself that there was no Boogeyman wreaking havoc in the wake of autumn's passing.

Until, one following morning Dr. Loomis received a call.

"Loomis, I've been trying to reach you all bloody morning."

"Why Hoffman…" Leaning back into his chair, he set down the pen used to map out the structure of his next lecture. "It was only last month you called. It surprises me that you'd seek my counsel so soon?"

"This isn't one of those calls." Dr. Hoffman cut in evenly on the other end. "This is about Ridgemont —"

The room stilled in witness to a horrified gasp leaving his mouth.

"Good God! Not again!"

"Sam—?"

And the phone was slammed into its cradle.

That was three days ago.

Now, he stood before the doors to the county police department building, tapping his cane irritably on a stair and eyeing Sheriff Brackett leaving the entrance with a face drawn as grim as death.

He had aged considerably, the wrinkles around his eyes apparent now in the glare of the setting sun. It was comforting to know last year's events had taken a toll on them both.

Sheriff Brackett invited the man into the station and once they were well into his office, door closed, window shut, he settled into his chair behind his desk and leveled a weathered stare at the old man.

"Why am I not surprised he's gotten away?"

Dr. Loomis had thought the grimace on the man's face held a trace of humor to it.

"Because you and I both know the nature of what he is."

"Would I be wrong in assuming you had something to do with it?"

"You think I'd have any business down here?"

"You resigned your position at Smith's Grove," he pointed out as if meaning to imply something.

"It's true and I'm surprised you've done your research."

"Your name in the news paper comes second to Myers's in regards to coverage. I'm going to guess the publicity is how you've been getting by."

"I don't believe I came here to discuss my livelihood as of late," the doctor said curtly. "If anything, we both have one common interest and that is capturing Michael Myers, so stop looking at me like I had any hand in unleashing the mad dog from its cage."

Sheriff Bracket stared at him, then inclined his head. "Go on."

Recounting the e

"So, a nurse helped him escape, took her car—"

"It wasn't her car."

"Then, she stole a car If we find her, we're bound to find him. That's just something I'll have to ring up the county to look out for - you don't see people driving around in orange mustangs. What else?"

"No 'what else'. I knew this nurse. It seems so unlike her."

"Well, you know true monsters don't make themselves so obvious. Maybe, she fell in love with him."

Dr. Loomis made a rude noise in the back of his throat.

Sheriff Brackett looked partially amused, then was serious again. "I already have the station doing double shifts up until Halloween. There's a security detail at the Strode house. If he's headed there, we're bound to find him in some way or another. So, get out of town, we don't need your help."

He received an arched brow. Dr. Loomis ignored him and irritably continued. "I came here because you of all people know the danger that his escape poses."

"And what? You're hoping to use my authority to track him down? Again? Isn't that a bit manipulative? "

Dr. Loomis didn't give ground. "I don't want Michael Myers to have the satisfaction of killing another human being again. I'm sure you must share the same sentiment. Stopping him won't bring back…what you've lost, but surely you wouldn't wish for other parents to suffer the same tragedy."

The man leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as though finding an answer to the storm in his mind.

Then, Sheriff Bracket sharply looked at him, though it was all the confirmation Dr. Loomis needed that this conversation could start up again a little less beset with tension when the man proceeded to explain the details of the murders discovered this morning.

"The victims was one highschooler, and one of my men. They sustained obvious knife wounds." Sheriff Bracket paused. His frown was drawn with confusion.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Sheriff Bracket brushed off the condolences. "Deeney was always a bit lackadaisical; that's why I tasked him with the back roads. Damned if I knew this would happen to him." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have put him on board for anything but he's my wife's cousin. Any smuck with the same credentials, I'd have turned him away. But, you know how people are in this town. Everyone's related to each other somehow, and we've all got to stick together because we're 'family.' "

The room fell into a companionable silence for a few moments.

"Where's the knife?" Dr. Loomis asked.

"Found it on another body fifty meters from the crime scene. ID'd him to be James Bonfim, some kid with a history of sexual assault accusations and a kink for Michael Myers. "

"What?"

"Exactly, what I said. There was no sufficient evidence that Michael Myers was there. The story plays out that James Bonfim was driving with a girl he intended to molest, until Officer Deeney stopped his truck. The situation probably got out of hand and James retaliated, killed Deeney and tried to flee with the murder weapon. As far as we can rule out, the murderer is Bonfim."

"So why is he dead?"

Sheriff Brackett looked genuinely pensive. "Tripped and broke his neck."

That can't be.

"Except, there's something else?" Dr. Loomis pressed.

"Doctor, I meant it when I said I don't want you getting involved."

Dr. Loomis leaned forward in his seat, persistent. "What is it?"

Sheriff Brackett frowned. His visage took a troubled expression. He sighed. "They found Deeney's gun. Empty. With fingerprints that didn't belong to anyone at the crime scene. Usually, this would mean nothing but...I knew Deeney. He never let anyone touch his gun - it was his grandfather's."

Dr. Loomis didn't like the hesitancy in his voice, but he couldn't help it. "But...But, what does that mean?"

"I don't know." Sheriff Bracket shrugged. "We visited Mrs. Bonfim about her son that Friday night but she tells us some conflicting information. Like how her son was fully clothed when he left the house, but when we found him, the kid was ass naked. The only other article of clothing was those paper dresses you find in a hospital."

Dr. Loomis furrowed his brow. "I'm not following."

"Hell-neither would I," said Sheriff Bracket, "Except, his mother mentioned how James had worn a blue mechanic's uniform that night and a white Halloween mask."

Casually, Sheriff Brackett rose out of his seat and leaned an arm against the windowsill. He stared at the direction of a bustling diner across the street, contemplative.

Turning back to a pale Dr. Loomis, he asked,

"I remembered I have to give the Deeney's my condolences. Would you care to join me?"