HALLOWEEN: A Carving on All Hallow's Eve

Chapter 6

    The sun was beginning to rise on this chilly October morning. Another day closer to Halloween. Michael Myers was still in the mechanic shop tending to his bullet wound. He had found a liquid cleansing substance that was used for cars and figured he'd use that to clean the wound as it was all he had. Pouring the bubbly liquid onto his shoulder, he grimaces as it burns. It felt like the cleanser was burning his flesh away instead of cleaning it; and maybe it was. He didn't know how any of this medical jargon worked since he had always been taken care of by other people. Eventually the burning stopped, and when it did Michael was quick to grab a pair of tweezers from a nearby counter in order to pinch the bullet from out of his flesh. Once the bullet was out, he wrapped a white cloth around the injured area before tugging his sleeve back down. It was time to move again. Though, Michael just wanted to do one more thing.

    Spotting a brown bag made out of wool, Michael immediately grabs it as well as the sharpest scissors he could find and cuts two eye holes into it. He then stares at the bag in satisfaction, his heart racing as he pulls it atop his head. Having some sort of mask covering his face made him feel so much better, and so much more excited to get home. While it wasn't the ideal mask he had thought of, it would only be temporary anyway. Taking the scissors with him, Michael walks out from the shop and into the breezy morning air. He takes a deep breath, looking around until spotting a sign pointing him in Haddonfield's direction. And so, he continues his journey. The area was quiet, no cars had passed yet and all that was really heard were birds chirping, rustling leaves, and Michael's footsteps. Michael was walking in the middle of the road, not worried about being hit by a car. He could survive that. He just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

   2 hours pass. Michael was getting tired; and hungry. He hasn't ate nor slept in almost a week. It has always been his adrenaline that has made him get this far, and he would not be giving up so easily. Turning to the right, Michael enters the forest. He walks along, twigs snapping at his boot's stomps. That's when he locates a brown rabbit running away from him. Without a thought, he chases after the small animal. Not by running, just walking at an almost inhumane fast walk. The rabbit dives behind a tree as Michael approaches, and he follows; the rusty but sharp scissors clenched in his hand and locked on the animal. Michael sneaks up behind the oblivious rabbit, being careful now to watch where he steps in hopes to not spook his meal. Finally, he lunges forward, grabbing the rabbit's back legs with his left hand and raising his right in the air in preparation to make the kill.

    The scissor's blades rupture the rabbit's veins and arteries, it desperately squealing and trying to escape. However, Michael's hold is too strong. The animal's blood flows onto Michael's bare hands, turning them red. He lifts the scissors out to open the blades before stabbing them back inside the rabbit, beginning to manually cut out the squeaking animal's organs. Michael cuts a large hole in the rabbit's back, large enough for him to stick his hand inside. As soon as he does so, the squeaking stops. His hand completely lodged inside, Michael carefully rips out the dead animal's guts and any other type of meat that he could snack on. Once in peace, he sits down on the hard dirt ground and removes his mask. Starting with the liver, Michael takes a large bite from it. It wasn't bad. Better than the food at the Sanitarium, at least. Starving, Michael devours all the raw meat from the rabbit in just two minutes, and he immediately gets a sense of newfound energy. He does stuff one additional chunk of meat into his pocket for later use.

Michael travels back to the middle of the rocky gravel road. He had about 2 hours of walking left. The first hour all is still and not much happens besides a few animals crossing the street, in which Michael would grab and stab them to death out of boredom, and well.. for practice. Plus, it felt good. Just as the one hour left mark is hit, a car approaches a few feet down the road. Michael stops, still standing in the middle and watching undisturbed as the car approaches at a quick speed. The headlights flash and blind Michael for a second, then a sudden screeching sound can be heard. They must have seen him. The car skids closer, the tires beginning to smoke as it desperately tries to fight against its own speed. It reaches Michael, going about 45 mph, so the driver has no choice but to swerve. The car loses control and slides to the left before crashing into a tree. Michael, out of curiosity, walks over to the crash site and bends down to look inside the smoking vehicle. The driver stays inside, looking stunned but still conscious. Once the driver, who was a boy in his teenage years, sees Michael, he flinches and fumbles to open the door. It wasn't uncommon for teenagers to recklessly drive down this road, which in this case the guy was going way over the speed limit. It makes the mechanic shop being near make more sense.

The teenager opens the car door and stumbles outside. Once he regains his footing, he looks at Michael with anger in his eyes as he looks back and forth from his car to the large man standing silently in front of him. "What the fuck, man!" The boy yells. "How did you not see me coming? Why didn't you move?! Are you blind or something??" Michael responds by staying completely still and silent. This angers the teen even more, who takes another step forward and attempts to push Michael. "Fucking idiot!" The boy exclaims before brushing past Michael after failing to push him over. Michael grabs the teenager's shoulder firmly and tugs him back in front of him. "Dude! The fuck?? What is your problem, man? I need to call my mom!" Obviously Michael can't let this guy go, he could tell the cops what happened and they'd automatically assume it's him. So, he had one thing left to do before going home.

The teen's eyes go wide as Michael readies the scissors. He tries to run, tries to fight, but he's just not strong enough. Moving swiftly, Michael stabs the boy on the left side of his chest, just by his heart. The boy screams and wiggles in Michael's grasp, but that does nothing. Michael puts his fingers through the scissor's handles and opens the blades, one of them reaching the kid's heart and poking it. He then plays around with the scissors, moving them around inside the dying teenager's body, cutting any kind of tissue he can feel. Finally, he returns the blades to the heart and cuts at it. The boy's eyes go all over the place before rolling back, and blood flows out of his mouth when he tries to scream once more. One more quick, clean cut and it's over. Michael removes the what used to be silver blades, now completely crimson blades, from the body and watches as it thumps to the ground, lifeless. He then drags the body deep into the forest and throws it into a bush. It would be awhile until anyone would find that. Now, it was time for Michael to officially go home.