Sequel to original Halloween fanchise (picks up after Resurrection)
Crisp autumn leaves danced in circles through the cold October air. The sun was beginning to set on the small Illinois town as the residents of Haddonfield were wrapping up the work day with an extra dose of caution. Halloween was approaching and although he had been dormant for a number of years, the fear of Michael Myers returning to his home town was a constant plague on the memories of the Haddonfield population.
John Tate felt the overwhelming demons return from the dead at the mere mention of his name. It had been years since the murders in California, which would prove to leave an impact so great that it changed his life forever. The undying obsession didn’t arrive until 2002 when his reoccurring nightmares turned into a whole new chapter of a murderous reality. This was the year his mother, Laurie Strode, had finally lost the battle with her sadistic nightmare of a brother - the one he had once denied was alive.
I should have believed her, John thought to himself sipping the glass of scotch that sat before him on the coffee table. Deep down he knew the situation was out of his hands, though there was a unshakable feeling of guilt that took over his soul day in and day out.
The blue glare of the television illuminated the nearly empty room of the one bedroom apartment. John finally understood the life that was unwillingly forced upon his mother for decades. She had felt alone and due to his previous ignorance about the reality of the situation, he was unavailable to understand her pain. Now, he understood. He was alone; alone in Haddonfield. Boxes lined the walls of the living room and hallways, the result of a recent relocation combined with a significant lack of caring as to where his belongings should go. A blue Honda Civic sat alone in the driveway with California license plates still sporting the bumpers. Other than a few pictures kept in a nearly empty drawer, the lifeless pieces of metal were the only remnants of his previous life - his happy life. John Tate was alone now. The obsession had taken over. His mother was gone. His friends were gone. His girlfriend had left him.
John’s mind traveled back to a lesson from an English class his mother taught in high school relating to the book, Frankenstein. A main piece of the story, as he remembered, was accepting one’s fate. Although it had taken years, John was finally realizing what he had to do. There was nothing left to lose. His life could not achieve an ounce of peace as long as Michael Myers roamed the earth.
Alex strolled around the jam packed mall, weaving in and out of teens getting ready for the Halloween weekend. A few stores away she could see the blinking strobe light that drew in shoppers to a fancy costume shop. A man dressed as a vampire haunted the opening as if it were his cave, drawing in the junior high kids and leaving youngsters hesitant to enter.
“Welcome to my haunted lair,” the vampire ranted as Alex made her way through the propped open double doors. She smiled and made her way inside, squinting as the strobe light blinded her.
The walls were bordered with masks of all kinds, costumes hung from a countless number of racks and accessories filled the spaces in between.
“Anything I can help you with?” a man asked as Alex made her way around the store.
She shrugged, “Just looking. Thanks.”
“Well if you need anything, just ask. I’ll be around.” He flashed her a toothy grin.
“Thanks, “ she said again, passing by a few outfits that caught her eye. There was a hippy, a pirate and a few others that she thought could pull of a somewhat sexy look. Deep in thought, Alex was about to remove a costume from the rack when a hand landed forcefully on her shoulder. She jumped and turned around to face a short boy in a blazing devil mask. He chuckled at her reaction from behind a row of razor teeth and made his way to another part of the store.
Alex shook her head and continued browsing. Above her hung a bright yellow Bart Simpson mask. She smirked thinking of her favorite cartoon before turning her attention to the mask right beside it - the one in which Michael Myers made notorious. Blank features on the pale white face emerged from a mop of frizzy black hair, making her uneasy . The empty eye holes seemed to stare her down, almost stalking her as she moved away from the nightmarish image.
“Michael Myers,” came a voice from behind her. The dorky salesman from earlier stared up at the legendary face that masked perhaps the most well known serial killer to walk the plant. He stood almost admiring it for a several seconds before turning his attention back Alex.
“Creeps me out,” she responded, “I hate looking at it.”
The salesman shrugged, “We usually sell a good number of these. Sick people, huh?”
She nodded, “I guess. I mean it’s just for fun but I don’t think I could handle staring at that face all night.”
“As long as it’s not really him,” he laughed to himself, “I’m Bill.”
Alex shook his hand and introduced herself. She could tell he wanted to hit on her but his obvious insecurities prevented this from happening. He fidgeted a little, simply nodding and attempting not to seem awkward.
“Well, I’m going to keep looking around. Happy Halloween.”
“Happy Halloween.” He hesitantly waved as Alex made her way to an accessory rack. She removed a set of horns and conveniently located a cute red outfit on another rack a few feet away. The little boy wearing the devil mask approached her again, “Will you be my wife?” He asked in a deep voice.
Alex laughed, “Maybe in a few years.”
The devil dropped his head in defeat, sulking for a few seconds before jetting to another part of the store.
He has more balls that the older guy, she thought laughing to herself. From the corner of her eye she could see the salesman carrying an armload of Halloween props before getting bumped from behind. Half of the toys fell to the floor. A middle aged woman helped him pick them up before making her son apologize for his carelessness.
Alex’s buzzing cell phone interrupted her thoughts, as the theme song from Friends blasted in her purse. It was her best friend.
“Hey Sam,” she said brushing her side bangs out of her face. She listened for a moment before responding, “I’m leaving in a few minutes so I’ll probably be over in a half hour or so.” Alex hung up and made her way to the register.
The blue explorer lurched to a halt as Alex killed the ignition in front of Sam’s place. It was a big, white two story house that stood protected by two large oak trees. The weed choked landscape was blanketed by a quilt of fallen leaves. Halloween decorations were draped sporadically around the yard.
“Alex!” a voice screeched cheerfully from inside the house. Moments later, Sam emerged from the pale blue door and made her way onto the porch.
“Hey BFF,” Alex hugged her friend.
“I would have ran out to the yard but I didn’t feel like putting shoes on.” They both glanced down at her pink toed white socks that completed a simple outfit consisting of jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt. Alex shook her head and the girls went inside.
“So let’s see the costume,” Sam said, pulling back her light brown hair into a ponytail.
Alex removed the outfit from the tiny plastic bag to show it off, “Too skimpy?”
“Perfectly skimpy,” Sam encouraged, “I like it. What’s Zeke being?”
She shrugged, “Who knows. He’s lame when it comes to this stuff.”
Zeke was Alex’s on-again off-again boyfriend. The pair graduated high school together and began at the same college before he dropped out after one semester after failing three classes. Alex didn’t always understand the rationale behind his decisions, especially in this case considering he received a partial scholarship to play baseball.
“ So he won’t mind picking up some booze?” Sam asked.
Alex shook her head, “He’ll get it. He thinks it’s cool being the first one of us to turn 21.” They both laughed.
“I wonder if a lot of people will come to the party,” Sam wondered out loud.
Alex nodded, “A bunch of people said they’d be here. Where’d your parents go again?”
“My brother’s football game in Ohio,” she explained, “I guess it’s one of the biggest games of the year for his division. I wanted to go but it didn’t work out.”
Alex nodded, thinking of her friend’s family. They had the perfect “All American” image; a model family if you will. Her parents were a well off, down to earth couple who were always involved with athletics and other school events. Sam was a petite fair skinned, light haired girl, similar to one you might see on the cover of Cosmo. She was captain of the gymnastics team and was in the top 5% of the class academically back in high school. Her older brother, Ryan, was a stand out football player who’s name was still often brought up in the area. He has continued to shine at the collegiate level, nearly finished with yet another four years of greatness.
“Helloooo,” Sam said, snapping her fingers.
“I just asked if your brother was coming to the party.”
“I don’t know if I want him there. He’s only 17.”
Sam rolled her eyes, “Like we didn’t party at that age.”
Alex agreed, “Yeah, I know. We’ll see, he probably has other plans already.”
The two chitchatted for awhile before beginning to clean up and decorate the house.
Last edited by LCHorrorFan; 12-06-2010 at 05:00 AM.
Chapter 2 & 3
Michael Myers sat in his old bedroom in drowning silence. There were no thoughts racing in his head, and his heart held a steady beat. There was nothing but silence that danced around the halls and bedrooms of the old Myers’ place.
A large rat shuffled in the corner of the room. His menacing, black eyes spotted the creature, visually stalking it’s every move. It was so innocent and unsuspecting, parading along the wall with curiosity. The shape could only watch as the rat sat back on it’s hind legs for a moment, almost having a staring contest with the monster who occupied the bare mattress that sat upon a rusty, old bed frame.
A loud pounding on the door downstairs created a new direction of interest. The sound of children playing could be heard outside, with the bravest of the bunch daring to set foot on the property that sat with such an evil presence that the local police discontinued their watch over the place. The pounding came again, followed by a low level of taunting. Michael’s jaw clenched and his fists tightened as he slowly stood up from his position on the bed. As he made his way to the hallway, towering above the rotting staircase, a hand was visible slipping through the mail slot.
He took the stairs, one foot at a time at a patient, consistent pace. Loud creaking noises sang to the house from beneath his massive figure.
“ I dare you to go in,” a voice challenged from outside. A few other voices chimed in with encouragement. The young man’s hand slipped out of the mail slot, as Michael’s black boots caressed the first floor’s flea infested carpet. He remained patient. Little did the child know that only a few inches of wood separated him from the world’s most ruthless killer.
The doorknob turned slightly, then stopped. Michael cocked his head to one side, anticipating the entrance of a potential victim.
A chanting began from the sidewalk, filled with the obvious crowd of cowards, “Go in! Go in! Go in! Go in!”
The shape moved closer to the window, until he could see the group of children clearly. The boy on the front step glanced over, getting a glimpse at the evil, white mask. He squinted hard before a scream escaped his throat as he ran wildly away from the house towards the street. The group of friends scattered in a panic from his reaction.
Michael returned to his room on the dingy, old mattress that still held sturdy. The world was getting darker, as he remained alone on the second floor of the country’s most infamous haunted house. The rat from earlier had found a hiding spot, or moved on to another corner of the house with something more interesting to offer.
Across the room stood a dusty, old fashioned mirror with a fancy silver trim. Through the cobwebs and mold, the emotionless reflection of the white Halloween mask stared at itself; black eyes burning evil into another pair of those same black eyes. They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself. Fear lived in the town of Haddonfield. It was an emotion that the residents were quite familiar with and, perhaps, based on their own unique experiences, reacted to differently. Tomorrow would be his day, and the people of the small Illinois town would come to find that the greatest fear of all is pure evil.
Alex hung up the phone with Zeke as she was pulling into his driveway. A light on top of the garage gave enough lighting to show off a yellow Ford Mustang with the hood popped. Zeke emerged from somewhere in the darkness carrying a single can of Coke.
“Hey,” Alex said, greeting him, “What’s up with the car?”
He leaned over and poured the Coke out somewhere under the hood.
“What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
“Fixing my car, but you won’t understand if I try to explain so…”
Alex agreed, “You’re probably right.”
“So what’s up?”
“ I just came to see what you’re wearing to the party tomorrow night.”
Zeke turned around and closed the hood, looking down at the attire he was currently sporting, “Something similar to this.”
She glanced at his beat up jeans and navy blue long sleeve t-shirt, “No costume?”
“I don’t do all that baby business,” he told her. Alex remained silent and Zeke sighed, “I’ll throw something together. Maybe I’ll be Michael Myers.”
“Scared?” he laughed, “Michael Myers it is.”
He laughed again, and tried to hug her knowing he was successful in pushing her buttons, “Come here.”
“Fine. Fine. Just don’t ask me to pick up the beer for tomorrow.”
Alex shot him a look, “Whatever,” she repeated.
“Is that all you can say?” He mocked her in a snooty voice, “Whatever.”
The two continued to argue, not noticing the figure across the street that stood waiting; listening.
“Michael Myers is a pussy,” Zeke said aloud.
Alex shook her head, annoyed at her boyfriend’s tough guy routine.
His mask seemed to glow in the pale luminosity that showered over his being in the street light. Like the rat from earlier, he watched the two specimens from a distance who were so concerned with their petty argument that they failed to notice the horror that lurked so dangerously close. The all black jumpsuit was enough camouflage to keep him safely tucked away from the eyes and ears of the innocent families who would soon be reminded that Halloween was his night, and Haddonfield was his town.
John Tate cruised through the empty streets, heading for the local police station. Passing through the center of town was more lively, as people enjoyed themselves and prepared for the fun they were expecting from the night to follow. Ghosts and pumpkins creatively decorated the town green as well as the doors and windows of every little shop along the sidewalk. The images were festive and peaceful, seeming almost to hide the dark secret that lived deep inside the soul of Haddonfield.
John rolled his Honda Civic into the police station parking lot. A beaming orange Halloween sign welcomed him as he walked in through the steel, gray door.
A balding, middle aged man glanced up from behind a pair of spectacles, “What can I do for you, son?”
“I need to speak with the sheriff,” was his reply.
The man stood up and removed his glasses, “What’s the concern, I’ll relay the message.”
Becoming slightly agitated, John decided to explain his concerns to the officer, “It’s about Michael Myers.”
“Michael Myers?” his eyes narrowed, “Son, we haven’t heard a word about him in nearly a decade. We’ve gotten passed it. I think you ought to do the same.”
John spotted the man’s name tag, “Officer Williams, I know he’s here.”
“What’s your name?”
“John Tate, “ he hesitated before continuing, “Michael is my uncle.”
Officer Williams gave a confused look.
“My mom was his sister.”
“I knew what you meant when you said uncle, “ he said firmly, “My confusion is coming from your story. Sheriff Bronson won’t want to hear it. I can bet on that one.”
He held up a hand, “I’ll go get him, just in case you’re right.” He took a deep breath and looked at John, “I’ve been there and I don’t want to take any chances.”
“You’ve been there?”
Officer Williams nodded, “I was about 16 or so when that bastard first started his streak, killing them kids back in the 70’s. I was friends with them. Very good friends.”
“Did you know Laurie Strode?”
“She was my mom,” John explained.
“ How was her name Strode and his name Myers if they were related?”
“She was adopted. He was on a mission to kill her for a long time and more than twenty years later he finally got his mission accomplished.”
He looked puzzled, “Now I read in the paper years ago that she died in a car accident.”
“She faked her death to get away from him.”
The two men stood in silence with Officer Williams attempting to comprehend John’s story, “Well I’ll go get the sheriff.” He walked into the back and disappeared around the corner.
John ran his hands through a head of messy, dark hair and waited. Within a few minutes a tall man with a blonde buzzed cut made his way to the front.
“How can I help you? I’m Sheriff Bronson.”
John reached out to shake his lion paw of a hand and stared up at the huge man who could probably pass as Hulk Hogan’s younger brother. “John Tate,” he said firmly before getting right to the point, “Listen I’m here because I think you should have some extra men out on the streets tomorrow night, you know, looking out.”
“Of course we will. We always do,” he assured him, “Don’t need 50 cars with broken windows or eggs smeared all over people’s windows.”
“I’m talking about Michael Myers.”
Officer Williams returned to his desk a few yards away but stayed out of the conversation.
Sheriff Bronson half smirked, “I hope this isn’t some joke. Or some kind of weird gut instinct.”
John looked the man in the face, “All I’m asking is that your staff pays some extra attention tomorrow night, that’s all.”
The sheriff removed a toothpick from a small box on Williams’ desk and put it in his mouth with a true Midwestern cliché. It caused the eavesdropping secretary to chuckle.
“I’m not sure who you are but I take it as a sign of personal disrespect when an outsider comes into my town and tells me how to run it.”
John realized his attempt at a firm but polite conversation was running thin. He glanced down and noticed a gold band on the man’s ring finger. “Do you have kids?”
His look turned stern, “That’s none of your business.”
“Regardless of whether or not you do, I want you to think of the children of Haddonfield and their level of safety. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the threat of Michael Myers returning here will end up being just a bullshit theory and that’ll be the end of it. But if it’s not, you’re going to have hundreds of trick-or-treaters within reach of a psychopath.”
The two men stared at each other without blinking before John continued, “I don’t want to see that lunatic cause any more pain to any more families. My life is a living hell because of what he did to me. He killed my friends. He killed my mom. He almost killed me, but I got away. Before all that happened to me, I was just like you listening to someone just like me. I thought the idea of Michael Myers returning from the dead, or breaking out of whatever dark corner of the world he was hiding in was insane,” he paused, “And then he killed two of my best friends.”
There was a brief moment of silence, for lack of words, before Sheriff Bronson responded, “I’ll put some extra muscle on but I do not want to send this town in a panic based on some 6th sense. Keep your worries to yourself, or tell them to me. But do not go spreading this stuff any farther than you already have.”
John nodded, semi satisfied that he was able to get through to the man. He started out the door when Officer Williams caught his arm, “I’ll make sure he follows through.” He smiled politely and gave John a quick pat on the back. “Don’t go trying to be a hero.”
Exiting the station, he mumbled to himself, “I don’t have much to lose.”
|creative, fiction, halloween, writing|