Michael Myers Reborn

by Godzilla 3509

**Title: *The Return of the Shape*** It had been a year since that fateful Halloween night in Haddonfield, Illinois, when the town finally believed it had rid itself of the specter that haunted its nightmares for over four decades. Michael Myers, the embodiment of pure evil, had been vanquished. His body had been destroyed, crushed, and his story ended. Or so they thought.

6. home, sweet home

Title: *Homecoming*

The streets of Haddonfield were quiet again, though the distant sounds of sirens still echoed faintly in the distance. Michael Myers walked with a steady, unhurried pace, his body healing as he moved. The burns that had blackened his skin were slowly fading, his coveralls repairing themselves, and his mask—now blackened and cracked—was mending as if stitched by an unseen force. His connection to Hell had granted him new powers, but his destination remained familiar. He was going home.

The old Myers house stood like a dark sentinel at the edge of town, untouched and forgotten by time. Its broken windows and crumbling facade had long been a reminder to the townspeople of the horrors that had once lived within its walls. The door was ajar, just as it had been the last time Michael had returned here. It was as if the house had been waiting for him, as though it had always known he would come back.

Michael stepped through the door, his boots heavy against the creaking floorboards. He moved through the house with a familiarity that had never left him, even after all these years. The walls were stained with time, the furniture covered in dust, but it didn't matter to him. This was home.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, the world outside now forgotten. The house seemed to sigh in his presence, the air thick with the memories of the past. His old room was just as he had left it—a small, bleak space that had once been his sanctuary.

He walked into the room, his footsteps slow and deliberate. The small bed sat in the corner, the same bed he had slept in as a child, before the darkness had consumed him. For a moment, Michael stood there, his mask hiding the thoughts that might have crossed his mind. But if there were any emotions behind those cold eyes, they didn't show.

Without a word, Michael sat down on the bed. The springs creaked under his weight, the sound oddly comforting in the silence of the house. He didn't need sleep, not anymore, but something about this place made him want to rest. Perhaps it was the only place where he felt some semblance of peace, though peace was something Michael Myers had never truly known.

He lay back on the bed, his body stretched out, and closed his eyes. The room was still, the world outside irrelevant. He was home, where it had all begun. The house had always been a part of him, just as much as the mask he wore, the knife he wielded, and the evil that burned within him.

For now, Michael slept, though he didn't need to.

And outside, Haddonfield remained unaware of the storm that was brewing, unaware that the Boogeyman had returned to where it all began, waiting for the moment when he would rise again.