AN: I'm a little late to the party but, I finally watched Halloween 2018. And I'm going to say that, even though I loved its cinematography, I hate how the movie took out the family aspect. Oh well, I'm pushing on. So, in my fic, Laurie Strode is still Michael's sister.
Chapter Twenty-One: The Curse
Darkness.
She awoke to darkness, gasping for air, escaping the clutches of her nightmare with hope that relief would find her in her wakefulness. Yet, there was only increasing terror.
The springs of the mattress protested as she jerked with frenzied urgency, remembering last night with aching clarity.
When the cold shank of a lock drew her attention to the door, her heart became a wallop in her chest. The ribbon of light emerging from the steel doorway outlined the silhouette of a lank man.
"You're awake," he muttered, hand reaching for the wall.
A click. A hesitant flicker. A moment. And the windowless room illuminated in a drab yellow from the incandescent lights.
Forest green eyes roved down her body and she felt her stomach churn. Instinctively, she sat up and brought her knees to her chest to quell the uneasiness.
Adam and her mother shared the same eye color.
The man's chin dipped to his collarbone as he smiled.
"Where am I?" she asked.
Adam leisurely came forward and sat at the foot of the bed. For a moment, she did not breathe. Perhaps, this was all a nightmare.
Her brother rubbed his hand against his forehead, then ran it down his sunken eyes.
"Does that matter?"
Her lips pursed.
At her silence, Adam chuckled, scooting up the bed and Carmen drew her legs in tighter. To her dismay, he noticed this.
"Oh sweet little Carmie."
Carmen suppressed a shiver. To pervert something as simple as a name spoke volumes of her brother's ill will and she loathed him all the more.
"Shut up."
"You're so precious to me, don't you know?" he cooed, leaning forward, pale face hovering over her sneakered feet. "I'll love you more than our dead mother ever could."
"What do you know about love?"
"Everything." He guided his hand over the mattress, over the white expanse of the sheets crumpled beneath her. "I know it can comfort. It can please. At even greater costs, it can hurt. "
He grabbed her ankle and wrenched her forward. As a result, the back of her head hit the wall behind her and Carmen reflexively kicked out.
"Let me go!" She didn't recognize the wailing in the background to be produced by a voice of her own. Until, she could feel her vocal chords strain.
When her foot hit him square in the chest, Adam staggered back. The room was fairly quiet besides her chaotically spaced footfalls scampering to the door. She tugged back the handle but the door wouldn't budge.
It suddenly became tempting to beg, to cry, to moan. But what good would it do? What good has it done? To her dread, Carmen turned around and watched callous amusement light her brother's face.
There were many emotions trying to peel away the layers of her resolve. But, Carmen didn't panic.
Yet.
Her brother lifted the tail of his plaid shirt, revealing the stock of the same gun he had threatened her with so many times.
When he gripped the handle, Carmen had to remind herself to breathe even if her lungs were on the verge of bursting.
Then, she thought of her mother. The woman's only failure in life was that she died.
And it wasn't her fault.
When her brother's cold touch guided her face, her thoughts fell away. Carmen felt the end of the gun dig into her sternum.
"Haven't you done enough?" she whispered.
"No," he said simply, his voice possessed a petulant edge to it. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."
"Wh-what is there not to understand? You killed my mom, and I bet you liked it," she accused bitterly.
"I did."
His answer made her sick.
"Because she never loved you," she replied quickly. "In the end she chose me over you after the divorce and you feel betrayed. And you're doing this because you want the attention. So, you're taking it out on me."
Adam's features fell flat.
"I know what you're doing. Trust me, it's not doing you any favors. You think you know our mother when she's been lying to you your entire life? Would you call that love?"
Carmen swallowed. "She was protecting me from you. Because you're a lunatic and somehow she knew that would you'd become an accomplice to a murderer."
He appeared satisfied with that answer.
"Oh man. There's so much you don't know, this is painful to watch. Do you really think I'm the bad guy?" His laughter hit the side of her face. "It had to have crossed your mind, right? Why I brought you here?"
"You're going to kill me."
His thumb stroked the curved plane of her cheek.
"I wish," he said, eyes alight. "But, I'm not the bad guy. I'm just here to make your time worthwhile."
When Carmen didn't answer, her brother prompted her by applying pressure under her jugular.
"Who do you think it is, Carmen?" he asked. "Who do you think is the cause of all your misfortune?"
"I don't know what you're talking about! Let me leave please. I haven't done a fucking thing to you."
She almost sobbed when her brother brought his lips against her ear.
"It's Michael, Carmen. You remember him, don't you?"
Funny how a single name which meant little to her a few days ago could suddenly be made the center of her life.
"I don't... get it…"
"Stop it. I hate that look. She gave me that look too after he killed that slut, Judith…" Her brother huffed. "It wasn't my fault, yet she acted like I did it. Whores." He said with a faraway look in his eyes, malice dripped into his voice like acid. "All of you are his whores."
Carmen felt the chill down her spine - she sensed something quite foreboding, and whimpered, "Adam...St-stop...please."
Her brother smiled coyly at the look of confusion on her face.
"He's going to kill you," he said.
Carmen tired, unsuccessfully, to mitigate her trepidation. It was quite clear who "He" was. Suddenly, her mother's words become clear as day to her.
You're his.
Her brother leaned forward until their noses touched. "And I think he's saving you for last...He's very tame if you promise to bring his sister to him."
Carmen was tempted to retaliate, but the cold tip of the gun burrowing in her breast reminded her she was powerless.
"I'm not his sister," she said quickly.
Punishment. Punishment.
His green eyes flared alight with cruelty, his teeth bared in a grin of insanity. "Oh, but don't you know, Carmie? Didn't our mother tell you?"
It was quiet, it was faint, it was quick, but Carmen saw it.
The current of Madness.
"We're all family," he said.
It was denial that iced her veins which had kept her from melting into a degenerated mess. Though, the inferno of reality was beginning to thaw her out.
"Get away from me," Carmen whimpered. She wished she sounded stronger.
Her brother didn't listen.
Briefly, the tip of the gun left her chest, but rather than feeling immediate relief there was only immediate pain. The highest frequency of the gunshot rang like a siren in her skull, blocking out the sound of the bullet shattering her femur. She couldn't swallow her scream so she screamed through clenched teeth.
It comes.
Carmen finally felt it as her body crippled to the ground.
Panic.
And in her panic, she didn't realize how many tears had left her eyes.
How many tears had scattered onto the floor.
Carmen clawed at the ground. Frantically, she scoured the room for a distraction only to find her brother's shoes. She tried to concentrate on the muddied soles, the smell of dirt.
Breathebreathebreathe.
The air left her mouth in thin, harsh streams against the concrete under her cheek. She clutched her thigh to staunch the flow of blood. Her fingers felt sticky. Then, she cried. Every movement introduced to her a new agony worse than the one before.
"Mommy was right to protect you from Haddonfield. You'll only find twisted folks there. That's why she left in the first place. She did want to protect you. But, the Myers women have never received happy endings."
She didn't need to look up at him to see him revel in her suffering.
Above her cries, she could hear her brother mutter,
"You could say it's a curse."