I found this recently, which is a fanfic i started ages ago, but never bothered continuing. I decided to upload it because I found this section, and it's fairly empty. I've only just started this story, so don't be too harsh yet. It should get better. It's set after H20, but I don't know anything about Halloween 8, or seen 3 and 6, so if some things don't make sense, ignore it. Feedback will be apreciated!
HALLOWEEN - MICHAEL IN MANHATTEN
29th October 2001 :
Time : 23:46
Manhattan subway station
The tube station was dark and silent. It nearly always was, the only time when the place was alive was when the trains stopped to let the passengers off. And that only lasted about 5 minutes. The streets of Manhattan weren't much different. People didn't often venture out at night. Not in this part of the city. Bad folks roam the streets. Thieves, gangsters, murderers. And the cops didn't do a lot. They couldn't do a lot. If someone reported an assault, odds are by the time they reached the person, they had already been killed.
Lance Royterman lay in the corner of the station, propped up against the cold wall. He had no home, and stayed where he was, managing to scrounge the odd bit of change from passers by. He clutched his whisky bottle which he had bought after just over a week of saving.
The next train came to a stand-still, the doors opened, and some of the passengers stepped off and walked quickly out of the station to get a cab, or they had someone waiting to give them a lift. Nobody dropped any money on the ground in front of the beggar. This didn't surprise him. Not many people did. He watched them disappear up the steps. He watched as they all left.
Except for one person. Lance couldn't see him properly, he could only make out his silhouette. The man didn't move. He just stared at Lance. "What?" the poor man asked to the figure. "What are you looking at?" The figure didn't speak. Lance coughed, then heaved himself up to his feet with great effort. He looked at the figure.
It had vanished. Lance staggered over to where it had been. "Hey, hey! Where did you go?" he asked. "I haven't finished with you, you bastard!" In the distance, he heard the next train approaching. He shrugged, turned around and walked to where he was laying a moment ago. He managed one step, then almost walked straight into the figure. It startled him, made him take a step back. Lance looked at the figure. It was enveloped in darkness.
It took a step towards him. This startled Lance even more. "Don't come near me, son." he warned. The figure took another step. "I'll mess you up bad. You hear me?" he asked. The figure, still silent, took another stepped. Lance could hear the train still, only now the sound was getting louder. Closer.
The figure took another step. Before Lance could say another word, the figure gripped his neck and squeezed. Lance struggled to get free, but whoever was holding him was to strong. The figure lifted Lance off the ground. In a fit of panic, Lance tried to call for help, but no words came from his mouth. He grabbed at the person's face and pulled at it, when suddenly the figure threw him into the tracks. Lance felt something in his hand, then suddenly the train smashed straight into him as it slowed down to let the passengers off.
30th October 2001 :
Time : 00:53
Manhattan subway station
HALLOWEEN EVE
Lieutenant Charles Lopez walked down the stairs of the subway, along with his partner, Howard Wilson. They walked over to the group of officers at the side of the platform. Some where in the tracks, the train was stopped over an hour ago, the driver had noticed someone fall in front of it just as it was stopping. He also reported a tall man exiting the station when he'd stopped the train, but couldn't make him out.
"Alright, what happened?" Lopez asked. One of the officers turned around.
"Well, we can safely say he was pushed." said the young officer.
"How can you be certain?" asked Wilson.
"Well," said the officer turning around and picking up an evidence bag containing a white mask, "He was holding this. Well, his arm was, anyway. Must've been the guy the driver saw when he stopped."
"Yeah, that's the most probable answer." Lopez said. "Any other clues as to the identity of this mystery man?"
"Yeah, one." the officer told him. "In the mask is a ticket. It's where the mask was purchased. It says Haddensfield, Illinois."
"Good work." Wilson said. "Hey, I think I've heard of that place before,"
"Maybe. We'll check it out at the station. Thanks for your help." Lopez said, then they walked out of the station to their car.
Time : 09:32
Federal Bureau of Investigation building,
Chicago
Agent Jake Loomis walked into his office and sat down at his desk. He checked the messages on his phone. None. He turned on his computer. He pressed random buttons on the keyboard, then sat back in his chair. Agent Daniel Cave walked in and dropped a case assignment dossier on the desk. "We got a new case, buddy." he said. Loomis sighed, then picked it up.
"What is it about?" he asked, and opened the file. He looked at the photos of what once was a man, but now looked more like a tomato salad painting the wall and tracks of a tube station. "Eww, lovely."
"Yeah. It's in Manhattan. We've gotta find the killer." Cave told him. Loomis turned the page and suddenly looked at one of the photos. It was of a white mask. Loomis recognized it almost immediately. He saw the mask was from Haddensfield, Illinois.
"I know who it was." Loomis said, almost instantly.
"Really? Who?" Cave asked, surprised at his partner's new talent of solving a case in three seconds.
"Michael Myers. He's back." Loomis told him. Cave sighed.
"Myers is dead. That Strode woman, Laurie Strode, she lopped his head off with an axe. He's dead."
"No, no... he's not dead. My father, who was his doctor since Myers was six years old, tried to kill him before. Lots of times. Myers was shot with enough lead to drop a herd of elephants, Blew up, buried, poisoned, fallen at least a floor each time they met, ran over and had seven shades of shit knocked out of him. He didn't die then, so why would he have been killed 2 years ago?"
Daniel sighed and shrugged. "OK, if it is Myers, which is impossible, what the hell's he doing in Manhattan?"
"I have no idea." Jake answered, his voice quieter from his lack of understanding his father had of the maniac.
"Well then. It's probably some psycho pretending to be him. You know, to scare people."
"Why the hell would someone wanna be him?"
"Like I said, he's a psycho."
"Well, we'll surely find out soon enough. We better go." Loomis stood up and put his jacket on.
Time : 15:29
Pete Tomlinson walked into his home and sat on the coach. His mother was out shopping, and wouldn't be back for at least an hour. He flicked on the television. A news report was on. It was about a man who had been thrown into the path of an oncoming train in the subway. Pete listened to the man's name. Lance Royterman. Pete didn't know him, so took no notice. He looked at the screen again, this time showing the mask the murderer had been wearing. Pete changed the channel.
The door knocked. Pete got up and walked over to the door. He opened it.
"Hi!" said Kylie Black. She was standing in the doorway with Bill Hatcher and Zoe Goldberg. "Can we come in?"
"Yeah, sure." Pete said. His three friends walked into the house, and Pete closed the door.
"What're you up to, then?" Bill asked.
"Not a lot." Pete answered.
"Ready for tomorrow?" Kylie asked.
"Yeah." Pete said.
"Let's see the costume, then." Zoe said. Pete laughed.
"It's not that great." Pete told her. She shrugged.
"Let's see it anyway." Pete walked into the next room, then came back moments later with a wolfman outfit and mask.
"Hey, nice!" Bill said.
"Aren't we a bit old for costumes?" Pete asked, not wanting to look like an idiot at the Halloween party the next day.
"What do you mean? Of course we're old enough. We are only 16, aren't we?" Bill told him.
"I suppose. So, where are your costumes?" Pete asked to the other three. Kylie took hers out of her bag. It was a mummy costume.
"What do you think?" she asked, holding it over her front to give a rough idea how it would look.
"It's great." Pete said. Kylie smiled at him.
"I don't have mine here," Zoe said. "I've got some ripped clothes, and I'm gonna be a zombie." Bill pulled out a black trench coat and pants, and a white mask. Pete recognized it.
"Hey, that's just like the one they found with that man in the subway this morning." he said. Bill looked confused. So did the others.
"What man?" Kylie asked.
"What? Haven't you seen the news?" Pete asked them. They shook their heads. Pete picked up the newspaper. He looked through it until he found what he was looking for. "Look." he said, showing them the article. It had three photos, one was the subway. Police were investigating there. The other was a photo of the dead man, and the other was of the mask found at the scene. Bill looked at his mask again.
"Oh, yeah. It does look the same." he said. "Wow."
"Well, we're gonna go back to mine to get some things ready." Zoe said. "C'mon, Kylie." she said, pulling her friends sleeve.
"OK." Kylie said. "See you tomorrow." she said, smiling at Pete. Bill closed the door behind them. He walked over to Pete.
"So, then." he said. "Are you gonna do it tomorrow?"
"Do what?"
"Ask Kylie out."
"I don't know..."
"Oh, come on. She's crazy about you, can't you see that?"
"Y'think?"
"Yeah, most definitely!"
"Well, all right. Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"And if you're wrong, I'll kill you."
"You'll try." They laughed, then walked into the kitchen. Bill opened the fridge. "Hey, why haven't you got anything to eat?"
"I have, look." Pete told him, pointing to the things in the fridge. "Food. There. Right in front of you."
"Yeah, but I meant something nice to eat, and quick to make."
"Oh," Pete said. "Make a sandwich then."
"Nah, I'll have one of these instead." Bill said, and took a cake bar out of the multipack. Pete did the same.
HALLOWEEN - MICHAEL IN MANHATTEN
29th October 2001 :
Time : 23:46
Manhattan subway station
The tube station was dark and silent. It nearly always was, the only time when the place was alive was when the trains stopped to let the passengers off. And that only lasted about 5 minutes. The streets of Manhattan weren't much different. People didn't often venture out at night. Not in this part of the city. Bad folks roam the streets. Thieves, gangsters, murderers. And the cops didn't do a lot. They couldn't do a lot. If someone reported an assault, odds are by the time they reached the person, they had already been killed.
Lance Royterman lay in the corner of the station, propped up against the cold wall. He had no home, and stayed where he was, managing to scrounge the odd bit of change from passers by. He clutched his whisky bottle which he had bought after just over a week of saving.
The next train came to a stand-still, the doors opened, and some of the passengers stepped off and walked quickly out of the station to get a cab, or they had someone waiting to give them a lift. Nobody dropped any money on the ground in front of the beggar. This didn't surprise him. Not many people did. He watched them disappear up the steps. He watched as they all left.
Except for one person. Lance couldn't see him properly, he could only make out his silhouette. The man didn't move. He just stared at Lance. "What?" the poor man asked to the figure. "What are you looking at?" The figure didn't speak. Lance coughed, then heaved himself up to his feet with great effort. He looked at the figure.
It had vanished. Lance staggered over to where it had been. "Hey, hey! Where did you go?" he asked. "I haven't finished with you, you bastard!" In the distance, he heard the next train approaching. He shrugged, turned around and walked to where he was laying a moment ago. He managed one step, then almost walked straight into the figure. It startled him, made him take a step back. Lance looked at the figure. It was enveloped in darkness.
It took a step towards him. This startled Lance even more. "Don't come near me, son." he warned. The figure took another step. "I'll mess you up bad. You hear me?" he asked. The figure, still silent, took another stepped. Lance could hear the train still, only now the sound was getting louder. Closer.
The figure took another step. Before Lance could say another word, the figure gripped his neck and squeezed. Lance struggled to get free, but whoever was holding him was to strong. The figure lifted Lance off the ground. In a fit of panic, Lance tried to call for help, but no words came from his mouth. He grabbed at the person's face and pulled at it, when suddenly the figure threw him into the tracks. Lance felt something in his hand, then suddenly the train smashed straight into him as it slowed down to let the passengers off.
30th October 2001 :
Time : 00:53
Manhattan subway station
HALLOWEEN EVE
Lieutenant Charles Lopez walked down the stairs of the subway, along with his partner, Howard Wilson. They walked over to the group of officers at the side of the platform. Some where in the tracks, the train was stopped over an hour ago, the driver had noticed someone fall in front of it just as it was stopping. He also reported a tall man exiting the station when he'd stopped the train, but couldn't make him out.
"Alright, what happened?" Lopez asked. One of the officers turned around.
"Well, we can safely say he was pushed." said the young officer.
"How can you be certain?" asked Wilson.
"Well," said the officer turning around and picking up an evidence bag containing a white mask, "He was holding this. Well, his arm was, anyway. Must've been the guy the driver saw when he stopped."
"Yeah, that's the most probable answer." Lopez said. "Any other clues as to the identity of this mystery man?"
"Yeah, one." the officer told him. "In the mask is a ticket. It's where the mask was purchased. It says Haddensfield, Illinois."
"Good work." Wilson said. "Hey, I think I've heard of that place before,"
"Maybe. We'll check it out at the station. Thanks for your help." Lopez said, then they walked out of the station to their car.
Time : 09:32
Federal Bureau of Investigation building,
Chicago
Agent Jake Loomis walked into his office and sat down at his desk. He checked the messages on his phone. None. He turned on his computer. He pressed random buttons on the keyboard, then sat back in his chair. Agent Daniel Cave walked in and dropped a case assignment dossier on the desk. "We got a new case, buddy." he said. Loomis sighed, then picked it up.
"What is it about?" he asked, and opened the file. He looked at the photos of what once was a man, but now looked more like a tomato salad painting the wall and tracks of a tube station. "Eww, lovely."
"Yeah. It's in Manhattan. We've gotta find the killer." Cave told him. Loomis turned the page and suddenly looked at one of the photos. It was of a white mask. Loomis recognized it almost immediately. He saw the mask was from Haddensfield, Illinois.
"I know who it was." Loomis said, almost instantly.
"Really? Who?" Cave asked, surprised at his partner's new talent of solving a case in three seconds.
"Michael Myers. He's back." Loomis told him. Cave sighed.
"Myers is dead. That Strode woman, Laurie Strode, she lopped his head off with an axe. He's dead."
"No, no... he's not dead. My father, who was his doctor since Myers was six years old, tried to kill him before. Lots of times. Myers was shot with enough lead to drop a herd of elephants, Blew up, buried, poisoned, fallen at least a floor each time they met, ran over and had seven shades of shit knocked out of him. He didn't die then, so why would he have been killed 2 years ago?"
Daniel sighed and shrugged. "OK, if it is Myers, which is impossible, what the hell's he doing in Manhattan?"
"I have no idea." Jake answered, his voice quieter from his lack of understanding his father had of the maniac.
"Well then. It's probably some psycho pretending to be him. You know, to scare people."
"Why the hell would someone wanna be him?"
"Like I said, he's a psycho."
"Well, we'll surely find out soon enough. We better go." Loomis stood up and put his jacket on.
Time : 15:29
Pete Tomlinson walked into his home and sat on the coach. His mother was out shopping, and wouldn't be back for at least an hour. He flicked on the television. A news report was on. It was about a man who had been thrown into the path of an oncoming train in the subway. Pete listened to the man's name. Lance Royterman. Pete didn't know him, so took no notice. He looked at the screen again, this time showing the mask the murderer had been wearing. Pete changed the channel.
The door knocked. Pete got up and walked over to the door. He opened it.
"Hi!" said Kylie Black. She was standing in the doorway with Bill Hatcher and Zoe Goldberg. "Can we come in?"
"Yeah, sure." Pete said. His three friends walked into the house, and Pete closed the door.
"What're you up to, then?" Bill asked.
"Not a lot." Pete answered.
"Ready for tomorrow?" Kylie asked.
"Yeah." Pete said.
"Let's see the costume, then." Zoe said. Pete laughed.
"It's not that great." Pete told her. She shrugged.
"Let's see it anyway." Pete walked into the next room, then came back moments later with a wolfman outfit and mask.
"Hey, nice!" Bill said.
"Aren't we a bit old for costumes?" Pete asked, not wanting to look like an idiot at the Halloween party the next day.
"What do you mean? Of course we're old enough. We are only 16, aren't we?" Bill told him.
"I suppose. So, where are your costumes?" Pete asked to the other three. Kylie took hers out of her bag. It was a mummy costume.
"What do you think?" she asked, holding it over her front to give a rough idea how it would look.
"It's great." Pete said. Kylie smiled at him.
"I don't have mine here," Zoe said. "I've got some ripped clothes, and I'm gonna be a zombie." Bill pulled out a black trench coat and pants, and a white mask. Pete recognized it.
"Hey, that's just like the one they found with that man in the subway this morning." he said. Bill looked confused. So did the others.
"What man?" Kylie asked.
"What? Haven't you seen the news?" Pete asked them. They shook their heads. Pete picked up the newspaper. He looked through it until he found what he was looking for. "Look." he said, showing them the article. It had three photos, one was the subway. Police were investigating there. The other was a photo of the dead man, and the other was of the mask found at the scene. Bill looked at his mask again.
"Oh, yeah. It does look the same." he said. "Wow."
"Well, we're gonna go back to mine to get some things ready." Zoe said. "C'mon, Kylie." she said, pulling her friends sleeve.
"OK." Kylie said. "See you tomorrow." she said, smiling at Pete. Bill closed the door behind them. He walked over to Pete.
"So, then." he said. "Are you gonna do it tomorrow?"
"Do what?"
"Ask Kylie out."
"I don't know..."
"Oh, come on. She's crazy about you, can't you see that?"
"Y'think?"
"Yeah, most definitely!"
"Well, all right. Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"And if you're wrong, I'll kill you."
"You'll try." They laughed, then walked into the kitchen. Bill opened the fridge. "Hey, why haven't you got anything to eat?"
"I have, look." Pete told him, pointing to the things in the fridge. "Food. There. Right in front of you."
"Yeah, but I meant something nice to eat, and quick to make."
"Oh," Pete said. "Make a sandwich then."
"Nah, I'll have one of these instead." Bill said, and took a cake bar out of the multipack. Pete did the same.