-6-
1 THE RESCUE
Michael brought the ax down hard, burying it deep in the Shape's skull. Its white mask parted in a split of spurting blood, and it dropped to the ground.
Tommy spun around, dizzy and confused, just in time to see the Shape fall dead. He had noted that it was the first Shape, the one he had run over at the shed. In its limp hand lied the machete. It must have doubled back when Tommy had wrecked the Skidoo in the crash, and it had been about to finish him off.
My God, he pondered, in sheer awe, as his head rang, promising a thousand aches to come. Michael Myers just saved my life.
The world was just too strange.
Michael marched over to the Shape's dead body and placed his foot on what remained of its head. With the other ax, he separated the Shape's head from its body. He had kept silent vigil over Tommy and the others over the last couple of years, dropping into town occasionally, observing them from afar. However, he had lost track of them with their abrupt departure from Denver, and the trail had been difficult to pick up.
He was relieved that he had made it on time, as Tommy was quite good at covering his tracks, and he hadn't anticipated them to flee off to Alaska. That had slowed Michael down, and ironically, it had almost cost Tommy his life.
Michael and Tommy turned in unison, at the sound of the second Shape freeing itself from under the Skidoo. With an incredible demonstration of strength, it flung the machine away from it, and rose gracefully. Its head turned to Michael's gaze, and their eyes locked. The Shape tilted its head in silent fascination, then began to approach.
Michael picked up the second ax, and gave it a shake to free the decapitated head of the first Shape. The head wouldn't give, and Michael absently tossed the second ax aside, as he began to meet the Shape's approach with his own.
Tommy observed with fascination that the two figures resembled a man approaching his own reflection. The steady mechanical pace was identical, and they moved with the same deadly grace.
It's what he was, before I freed him, Tommy thought in a wave of sudden understanding. The Thorn curse - it was so simple. He should have known that those cultist bastards would select another as the curse's host, another innocent to destroy, in the name of doing their dirty work. After all, they had planned for Danny to take Michael's place after Michael had committed his final sacrifice, killing his son, Stephen. Still, Tommy was puzzled. How could there be two? And why was Michael still alive? Tommy had thought that Michael would have died with the Evil. Apparently he was wrong, and that had surprisingly turned out to be a good thing.
The two approached each other at a break-neck pace, like two unstoppable juggernauts, bent on a head-on collision. Michael raised the ax, and brought it down again. The Shape met his attack, gripping the handle of the ax before it could strike its deadly blow, and snapped the handle in two. It then rammed the blunt end of the ax's head into Michael's face, driving him back.
Michael recovered quickly, and lunged at the Shape. The two grappled for control of the ax, as they slammed one another back and forth against the trees, like two cars in a smash-up derby. Some of the smaller trees actually gave way, snapping in two at the force of their weight. Michael gripped the side of the Shape's head with his free hand, and rammed his thumb into its right eye socket. He felt the eye burst with a damp puncture, and crimson fluid spurted forward from the mask's dark socket. The Shape didn't care for the act, and responded in kind.
With its left hand, the Shape grabbed Michael by the throat, and threw all of its weight into him. Michael's balance gave, and he came crashing into the ground. The Shape pressed the ax up to his throat, and tried to push it in. Michael's hands held it back in a deadlock, but the ax was slowly giving way to gravity.
Michael had thought indifferently that this was the end, when the Shape's head was sheathed off. It disappeared in a streak of red. The head flew away and met the earth, spraying the snow with a bloody mist as it bounced to a stop. The headless body let out a geyser of blood, fell to its knees, and collapsed.
Michael looked up to see Kara holding the machete, and she swung it once again. The blade dug deep into Michael's right collarbone, missing his head by inches. Kara ripped the machete free and began to swing once more.
Tommy rushed over and gripped her wrists from behind, struggling to stop her from striking again. It was nearly impossible, as she struggled and squirmed like a snake, screaming with rage, and Tommy had grown so week. The energy was rapidly seeping out of him, and he struggled to muster his voice.
"Kara! Stop! Stop it!! He just saved my life! LOOK AT ME!" He yelled, in desperation. Kara's tunnel vision of violence subsided, as she turned to him, hearing him for the first time. Her jaw fell open in petrified shock of his mangled face, and she began to sob, grabbing onto him, and holding him tightly.
"Oh God, Tommy, I'm such an idiot! You knew it…you KNEW it, and I was too stubborn to listen. Oh God…Danny…we left Danny in Denver! If they found us…"
"Easy, Kara, slow down. It's okay, Kara…it's…where's Stephen?" Tommy's head went light, and he struggled to keep conscious. He had lost quite a bit of blood, and the pain stung into his face, in waves.
"I…" Kara began unevenly. "I left him in the truck. I told him to hide under the bucket seats in the back – I couldn't leave you Tommy, especially when I saw that other one coming back after you..."
"Its all right Kara, you saved our lives. Go check on Stephen. I'm going to try to head back to the house. I'll meet you there."
"Can you make it?"
"I'll try. Just go get him."
Kara ran off for Stephen, and Tommy slowly tried to make it to his feet. It had felt like he had just gained five hundred pounds in the blink of an eye, as his strength had completely left him. He came crashing down to the earth again, the snow padding his fall when the darkness overtook him.
Michael rose from the snow slowly, his black trench coat smeared and covered in frozen hard snow as a result of his struggle with the Shape. Kara's blow had temporarily rendered his right arm useless. He walked over to Tommy, and slowly knelt down beside him. With his one good arm, he scooped Tommy up, and began to make his way back up to the house.
Kara ran back to the truck, calling for Stephen. Her tension began to mount, when he didn't respond. She quickened her pace, and her heart dropped when she had reached the truck. Stephen was gone. Kara howled in grief, once again letting the self- loathing seep into her mind. This was all her fault. Could she ever stop screwing up? She hadn't wanted to leave Stephen, but she just hadn't known what to do. Tommy was in trouble, and she had made a rash decision. And Danny…
Kara's brain screamed in overwhelming fear for her children, and she began to sob again, worrying for their safety.
Back at the house, her state of mind hadn't got any better, as she sobbed uncontrollably, while trying to steady her shaking hand. Tommy had asked her, to her horror, to sterilize and sew up his injured face.
"Oh God, Tommy, I can't."
"Kara, you can," Tommy tried to remain calm and reassuring, despite the pain. Otherwise, I'm going to bleed to death."
Michael stood over in the corner quietly, observing Kara trying to tend to Tommy's face. It wasn't going well. Her hands trembled, and she couldn't keep the wound closed enough to successfully push the needle through.
Michael walked over and gripped Tommy's right cheek, clamping it shut with a surgeon's steadiness. Tommy winced.
"Get away from him, you son of a bitch!" Kara roared defensively, as she turned, her eyes burning with hate.
"Kara, its okay. IT'S OKAY! He's trying to help! For the love of God, JUST SEW!!"
The deed had proved to be emotionally and physically exhausting, but eventually Kara had made it through it. She bandaged Tommy's face, after sterilizing it again. After, the sleep had embraced her, as she snuggled up to her injured husband.
Michael stood watch, occasionally checking on Tommy, making sure his breathing was steady. He let the two of them sleep throughout the night. There was nothing more they could do right now, and they were both going to need their strength for the trials ahead. The ball was now in the cult's court, and he knew where they had to go.
Later that night, right before dusk, Michael went back to the bodies of the Shapes to survey the scene. He noticed that there was another set of tracks departing from the truck, which had put to fact what he had already known. Stephen wasn't lost or running for help. He had been taken.
Michael gripped the ax with the frozen head of the Shape, and freed it. He removed what was left of both of their masks, to see if their identities would tell him anything. They were complete strangers to him. They did inform him of one thing, however. He was starting to understand why there could have been two. The faces of the Shapes were identical. They were twins.
1 THE RESCUE
Michael brought the ax down hard, burying it deep in the Shape's skull. Its white mask parted in a split of spurting blood, and it dropped to the ground.
Tommy spun around, dizzy and confused, just in time to see the Shape fall dead. He had noted that it was the first Shape, the one he had run over at the shed. In its limp hand lied the machete. It must have doubled back when Tommy had wrecked the Skidoo in the crash, and it had been about to finish him off.
My God, he pondered, in sheer awe, as his head rang, promising a thousand aches to come. Michael Myers just saved my life.
The world was just too strange.
Michael marched over to the Shape's dead body and placed his foot on what remained of its head. With the other ax, he separated the Shape's head from its body. He had kept silent vigil over Tommy and the others over the last couple of years, dropping into town occasionally, observing them from afar. However, he had lost track of them with their abrupt departure from Denver, and the trail had been difficult to pick up.
He was relieved that he had made it on time, as Tommy was quite good at covering his tracks, and he hadn't anticipated them to flee off to Alaska. That had slowed Michael down, and ironically, it had almost cost Tommy his life.
Michael and Tommy turned in unison, at the sound of the second Shape freeing itself from under the Skidoo. With an incredible demonstration of strength, it flung the machine away from it, and rose gracefully. Its head turned to Michael's gaze, and their eyes locked. The Shape tilted its head in silent fascination, then began to approach.
Michael picked up the second ax, and gave it a shake to free the decapitated head of the first Shape. The head wouldn't give, and Michael absently tossed the second ax aside, as he began to meet the Shape's approach with his own.
Tommy observed with fascination that the two figures resembled a man approaching his own reflection. The steady mechanical pace was identical, and they moved with the same deadly grace.
It's what he was, before I freed him, Tommy thought in a wave of sudden understanding. The Thorn curse - it was so simple. He should have known that those cultist bastards would select another as the curse's host, another innocent to destroy, in the name of doing their dirty work. After all, they had planned for Danny to take Michael's place after Michael had committed his final sacrifice, killing his son, Stephen. Still, Tommy was puzzled. How could there be two? And why was Michael still alive? Tommy had thought that Michael would have died with the Evil. Apparently he was wrong, and that had surprisingly turned out to be a good thing.
The two approached each other at a break-neck pace, like two unstoppable juggernauts, bent on a head-on collision. Michael raised the ax, and brought it down again. The Shape met his attack, gripping the handle of the ax before it could strike its deadly blow, and snapped the handle in two. It then rammed the blunt end of the ax's head into Michael's face, driving him back.
Michael recovered quickly, and lunged at the Shape. The two grappled for control of the ax, as they slammed one another back and forth against the trees, like two cars in a smash-up derby. Some of the smaller trees actually gave way, snapping in two at the force of their weight. Michael gripped the side of the Shape's head with his free hand, and rammed his thumb into its right eye socket. He felt the eye burst with a damp puncture, and crimson fluid spurted forward from the mask's dark socket. The Shape didn't care for the act, and responded in kind.
With its left hand, the Shape grabbed Michael by the throat, and threw all of its weight into him. Michael's balance gave, and he came crashing into the ground. The Shape pressed the ax up to his throat, and tried to push it in. Michael's hands held it back in a deadlock, but the ax was slowly giving way to gravity.
Michael had thought indifferently that this was the end, when the Shape's head was sheathed off. It disappeared in a streak of red. The head flew away and met the earth, spraying the snow with a bloody mist as it bounced to a stop. The headless body let out a geyser of blood, fell to its knees, and collapsed.
Michael looked up to see Kara holding the machete, and she swung it once again. The blade dug deep into Michael's right collarbone, missing his head by inches. Kara ripped the machete free and began to swing once more.
Tommy rushed over and gripped her wrists from behind, struggling to stop her from striking again. It was nearly impossible, as she struggled and squirmed like a snake, screaming with rage, and Tommy had grown so week. The energy was rapidly seeping out of him, and he struggled to muster his voice.
"Kara! Stop! Stop it!! He just saved my life! LOOK AT ME!" He yelled, in desperation. Kara's tunnel vision of violence subsided, as she turned to him, hearing him for the first time. Her jaw fell open in petrified shock of his mangled face, and she began to sob, grabbing onto him, and holding him tightly.
"Oh God, Tommy, I'm such an idiot! You knew it…you KNEW it, and I was too stubborn to listen. Oh God…Danny…we left Danny in Denver! If they found us…"
"Easy, Kara, slow down. It's okay, Kara…it's…where's Stephen?" Tommy's head went light, and he struggled to keep conscious. He had lost quite a bit of blood, and the pain stung into his face, in waves.
"I…" Kara began unevenly. "I left him in the truck. I told him to hide under the bucket seats in the back – I couldn't leave you Tommy, especially when I saw that other one coming back after you..."
"Its all right Kara, you saved our lives. Go check on Stephen. I'm going to try to head back to the house. I'll meet you there."
"Can you make it?"
"I'll try. Just go get him."
Kara ran off for Stephen, and Tommy slowly tried to make it to his feet. It had felt like he had just gained five hundred pounds in the blink of an eye, as his strength had completely left him. He came crashing down to the earth again, the snow padding his fall when the darkness overtook him.
Michael rose from the snow slowly, his black trench coat smeared and covered in frozen hard snow as a result of his struggle with the Shape. Kara's blow had temporarily rendered his right arm useless. He walked over to Tommy, and slowly knelt down beside him. With his one good arm, he scooped Tommy up, and began to make his way back up to the house.
Kara ran back to the truck, calling for Stephen. Her tension began to mount, when he didn't respond. She quickened her pace, and her heart dropped when she had reached the truck. Stephen was gone. Kara howled in grief, once again letting the self- loathing seep into her mind. This was all her fault. Could she ever stop screwing up? She hadn't wanted to leave Stephen, but she just hadn't known what to do. Tommy was in trouble, and she had made a rash decision. And Danny…
Kara's brain screamed in overwhelming fear for her children, and she began to sob again, worrying for their safety.
Back at the house, her state of mind hadn't got any better, as she sobbed uncontrollably, while trying to steady her shaking hand. Tommy had asked her, to her horror, to sterilize and sew up his injured face.
"Oh God, Tommy, I can't."
"Kara, you can," Tommy tried to remain calm and reassuring, despite the pain. Otherwise, I'm going to bleed to death."
Michael stood over in the corner quietly, observing Kara trying to tend to Tommy's face. It wasn't going well. Her hands trembled, and she couldn't keep the wound closed enough to successfully push the needle through.
Michael walked over and gripped Tommy's right cheek, clamping it shut with a surgeon's steadiness. Tommy winced.
"Get away from him, you son of a bitch!" Kara roared defensively, as she turned, her eyes burning with hate.
"Kara, its okay. IT'S OKAY! He's trying to help! For the love of God, JUST SEW!!"
The deed had proved to be emotionally and physically exhausting, but eventually Kara had made it through it. She bandaged Tommy's face, after sterilizing it again. After, the sleep had embraced her, as she snuggled up to her injured husband.
Michael stood watch, occasionally checking on Tommy, making sure his breathing was steady. He let the two of them sleep throughout the night. There was nothing more they could do right now, and they were both going to need their strength for the trials ahead. The ball was now in the cult's court, and he knew where they had to go.
Later that night, right before dusk, Michael went back to the bodies of the Shapes to survey the scene. He noticed that there was another set of tracks departing from the truck, which had put to fact what he had already known. Stephen wasn't lost or running for help. He had been taken.
Michael gripped the ax with the frozen head of the Shape, and freed it. He removed what was left of both of their masks, to see if their identities would tell him anything. They were complete strangers to him. They did inform him of one thing, however. He was starting to understand why there could have been two. The faces of the Shapes were identical. They were twins.