Note: In the movie, right after Michael kills his family, he walks up to his baby sister and says, "Happy Halloween, Boo." I decided to take that into account and use Bonnie (Boo is a nickname for Bonnie) as Laurie's original name. It was changed to Laurie when she was adopted by the Strodes.

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It had been a long time since Michael had seen a beautiful woman. It had been a long time since anyone had stirred something in him other than hate.

And then Emory Brighton had walked in like some hell-bent angel and turned his world upside down in under two hundred words. No hate there, oh no. Interest in her, in how she put it together. It took a very special, perhaps not-quite-stable person, to see through him. Yes, and there was something else he felt. Pure male interest.

Michael didn't waste time berating himself. He'd done damn good these past sixteen years, he'd tricked countless doctors, experts, analysts... he'd even tricked his own mother. He'd known that his ploy wouldn't work forever. He'd told himself that one day, someone would see past the symptoms, the tests and diagnostics, and would realize the truth.

But, damn him, he hadn't expected Emory Brighton.

Michael stared down at the wood grain on his desk, but in his mind he was seeing that woman. Inky black hair, slate-silver eyes, that deceptively soft voice. And no fear, no fear in her at all.

Michael reached up and lifted the white mask from his face. He stared at it for a very long time.

He had killed five people in his lifetime. Not due to rage, but cold, pure hate. Hate for those who took their anger out on someone smaller or weaker than them. Hate for those who preyed upon others. Hate for those who despised what they feared.

Hate for human nature in general.

Michael sighed. His eyes wandered over his desk, and up to the wall where he had pinned the photograph of him and Bonnie. He had spent more than a decade grinding his emotions down into weak, frail things that held no bite and no pain. So what washed through him when he looked at Boo was only a vague echo of sadness.

In truth, Emory Brighton was only halfway on the mark. And no doubt she wondered why Michael had not yet tried to escape, since he was more than capable of doing so. Yes, he was smart. Yes, he was immensely strong. But there was someone outside, out in the real world, and it would be better for her if she never knew he existed.

Bonnie Myers. The only person in his life, apart from his mother, perhaps, whom he had never found it in him to hate. Bonnie was an innocent. And if it weren't for him, she would have had to grow up in the same environment as Michael. He would have died before he let that happen.

He would have killed.

And so he did.

"Live it up tonight, Michael, 'cause tomorrow things are gonna change around here." Those were the words his mother had said that Halloween. And so he had. He had taken it upon himself to rid the world of three people whom he despised, three abusers of the weak. Or rather, two abusers and one horny moron who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

For Bonnie. He'd done it all for Bonnie.

Now, the situation had changed. Even if, for some reason, Emory decided not to rat him out, Michael's position in this world had become precarious. Even one person knowing – damnit, not even Loomis knew – was a threat to everything he had worked for.

Something had changed, and now Michael needed to start planning. He would escape. He would have to kill more people. Well, that was no big deal. And then what would he do?

He'd find Emory. What would he do with her? He did not seem to hate her, he just saw her as a threat. And there was that curious lack of fear. Was she really that confident? Or was there some other explanation? And there was also... the part of him that wanted to touch her. Oh, he could feel it in the back of his mind, begging to come to the surface of consciousness. He fought it, because lust was the only emotion he'd never been able to learn how to stamp down into the dust. It was the only emotion that had sent his blood pounding through his body, set his teeth on edge, made his heart beat faster.

And she was a magnificent specimen, wasn't she?

Michael allowed himself a very small smile. So he would have some fun with Emory first. He might kill her. He might not.

And then he'd go find Bonnie. He needed to see his little sister. He would see her one last time, and then he could be done with it all. He wanted to see how she had grown up, if she looked like their mother, if she was happy and safe.

And then he could die.

Unless, of course, a better opportunity presented itself.

They'd just have to wait and see, wouldn't they?