A/N: Just saw the next Minecraft update. I cannot explain just how excited I am!

At nearly six o'clock that night, Aunt A/N was making dinner. Mashed potatoes and roast beef. Uncle U/N was in the garage. He was building a coffee table for the living room. You were in your room, staring out the window. Your eyes were glued to where Michael had been standing. You never noticed an old, tan Ford pull into the driveway. You never noticed a balding, large man in a tan trench coat get out of the car and walk onto the porch. You never heard the doorbell ring; you never heard the door open; you never heard anything.

After a minute, there was a knock on your bedroom door.

"Come in," Was your soft reply.

"Y/N, this is the man Sherriff Morgan was talking about. This is Doctor Sam Loomis. Doctor, this is Y/N; my niece. She's the one who saw him. Y/N, say hi." Aunt A/N said.

You turned around to see a balding, heavy man, probably in his sixties or seventies, in a tan trench coat.

"Hi, doctor." You smiled at the man.

"Please, call me Sam. How do you do?" He asked, holding out his hand.

"I'd do better if I didn't know that a serial killer was looking at me through my window." You sighed, shaking his hand.

"That's understandable. May I have a word with her, Mrs. G/L/N (Godparent's last name)?" Sam inquired.

"Of course. Call if you need anything." Aunt A/N closed the door gently.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" Sam asked.

"No, that's fine."

Sam sat down next to you on the bed.

"Did the man you saw look like this?" He produced a picture from his pocket.

The picture showed a man with shoulder-length, blond hair. He had grey eyes, and a KISS: Alive in '77! shirt.

A/N: I don't remember what Michael looks like without his mask. All I remember is he looks kind of like Ted Bundy. I remember Rob Zombie's Michael Myers, though. I remember because we have the same KISS shirt.

"No... Not really."

"Okay, I've got more pictures. What about this?" Sam held up another picture. This man was in an emotionless, white mask with reddish-brown hair attached to it. He had a blue jumpsuit on, similar to a mechanic's outfit.

"Yes; yes that's him."

"I knew you'd say that, but I was hoping you wouldn't." There was a sad, exhausted way to Sam's tone. It was as if you had confirmed that, unfortunately, his grandmother would probably not make it through the night.

"Sam, is my family going to be okay?" You questioned.

Sam sighed heavily. He grabbed your hand and looked you in the eye. "I don't know. Know that the police and I will do everything we can to stop him and keep you safe. To ensure that, your aunt invited me to stay here. I've taken her up for everyone's safety."

"What if it doesn't work? What if we can't stop him; an-and he goes on a spree? What if-"

"Y/N, I've been working with it since it was seven years old. I know it better than it knows himself. Trust me, it will not kill anyone who does not get in his way of something. If the whole town wants to get in it's way, then they'll have to learn the hard way. There isn't anything we can do to stop it."

"It?"

"Michael Myers is evil on two legs. Its been hit with an inordinate amount of bullets. Its been burned alive in the same fire I was in. Its had acid injected into his blood. Its been electrocuted and stabbed. There is no way on God's green Earth that Michael is human."

Sam stood up and looked out the window. "How did you find out about Michael?"

"There were some... dankish loggerheads at school who were asking me about Michael and if I'd heard about him yet. They've been picking on me for about a month, since school first started." You summarized. "Tommy Brandyn and his clowns have it out for me."

"Did you do anything to them?" Sam asked.

"No. All I did was show up and learn." You replied.

Sam turned to face you, a barely relieved look on his face. "You should be safe. Michael was bullied when it was a boy. Because it was mute. At least, that's what I was able to figure out. It didn't sit well with the kids at Haddonfield Elementary in the 1960's to have a mute boy who did better than him."

"It's a relief to know that I'm safe, but my family?"

"That, I don't know." Sam glanced at his watch. "It's nearing six-thirty. Should we see if your aunt needs any help with dinner?"

"Cooking would get my mind off of this, I think. Let's go."