As (y/n) and Jake waited for his parents, they both fell asleep. The cops kept patrol of the area around the house. The sheriff could see one of the cops he sent to find Michael running to him. "Sheriff! Sheriff!" "What is it boy? Spit it out." "Th-The other four...Myers killed 'em." He huffed, out of breath. The sheriff radioed in for more reinforcement. Dr. Loomis as well as Mr. and Mrs. (l/n) heard. "Why do they need reinforcement Loomis? What's happening?" Mr. (l/n) asked. "We need to get there as soon as we can." Dr. Loomis said, keeping an eye on the road. "Another 10 minutes and we'll be there." "Can't we go any faster!?" Mrs. (l/n) asked. Dr. Loomis sighed and kept driving. Unknowingly to them, the cops were being murdered as they speak.

Gun fire went off, waking us both up. Jake ran to the window and looked out. "Shit, we need to go! Now!" He grabbed my hand and we ran out the back door. We ran through the woods and I tripped over a rock. "Fuck!" Jake tried helping me up. "Owe, owe, stop! I think I sprained my ankle." "It's just a sprain. Come on we have to go before h-" I looked behind him with fear in my eyes. There, stood Michael Myers. I screamed as a knife went through Jakes back. He coughed up blood, not able to say a word. I tried my best to get up without falling, adrenaline running through my veins. It hurt, but I kept running. Where was I going? Hopefully where people could help me. My lungs were burning.

Michael stood there as he watched him run. He looked down at his friend and pulled his knife out from his now limp body. He grunted and started to walk after his. Soon he caught up to him and heard his heavy breathing behind a tree. He found it slightly funny and cliché that he'd hide behind a tree. Quietly, he walked around the tree, put his hand on his mouth forcing him against the tree. Muffled screams and cries were heard behind his hand. His thoughts started to fight each other. 'Kill him. Take him. Rip him apart. Make him yours.' He was conflicted on what to do so he just stood there, watching as he cried and screamed.

I clawed at his arm, trying to get his hand away. 'It hurts.' I thought. My vision was blurry from tears and my throat started to hurt. I heard him grunt as he threw me over his shoulder. I hit his back as hard as I could, crying out for help. I felt his knife press against my thigh as if warning me to stop. I kept crying as he walked through the woods. 'I want to go home. I want Jake and my parents.' I thought. I soon passed out from crying.

Michael found a small cabin that looked to be abandoned. He walked up to it and opened the unlocked door. Things were strung about, webs covered almost everything. He grunted and walked in, floor boards creaking under his heavy foot steps. He set the boy down on an old couch, still not believing what he had done. 'Why did I take him?' He thought to himself, staring at him as he slept. He got up and walked around, annoyed by how the cabin creaked everywhere he went. He opened the fridge and cabinets to find very old food. It wouldn't bother him to eat it, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't go back to his house, hopefully he wouldn't be found here. Soon he started to stir. Michael could hear the couch, as if it was about to break from him moving.

I opened my eyes. 'Where am I? It's so dark.' I thought and looked around. I tried to get up, but fell from pain. "Owe..." I forgot about my ankle. I could feel eyes on me and looked around. I saw Michael standing in a corner of the room and screamed. I scooted back against the couch. He started coming towards me. "St-Stay away from me!" He didn't listen and kept walking towards me. He crouched next to me, staring at me. I gulped, scared for my life. All he did was stare at me. I looked away, trying to figure out what to do. I can't stand because of my ankle so it would be useless trying to run. I could feel his eyes looking over my whole body as if searching for something. "C-Can you please stop staring at me?" I heard him grunt, but I could still feel him staring at me. I felt his hand reach for my hair and I pulled away. This made him angry as he grabbed a fist full of hair and roughly pulled it, making me look at him. I whimpered.