A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I had a huge Latin project for school. I had to make a menu in Latin, and I called it 'Magnus Hannibalis', which is 'Big Hannibal's' in English. Of course, I put Lamb Chops and Fava beans on the menu!

"You... You took.." You stammered

"Yeah... Yeah, you did. May I ask, why?"

He gestured to the rainy exterior, where a large group of children and some very tired adults marched down the street, heading into the town.

"But- but, my aunt and uncle are downstairs!"

"What?!" You shouted, thinking you caught Michael's drift.

"Oh, thank God. I thought you meant-"

"Y/N? Who are you shouting at?" Uncle U/N knocked at your door and rattled the doorknob.

Quickly, you shoved Michael into your closet (with some struggle due to his build) and leaned against it.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Uncle U/N opened the door and looked at you.

"Me? Oh, oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a huge plot-twist in a book I'm reading. I just didn't see it coming at all." You lied, waving a dismissing hand. "You never see a murder coming unless it's a Stephen King book."

"Oh. Well, me and your aunt are going out. We'll be back later, probably around eleven thirty or so. I don't want you leaving the house, alright? If you do, call me, and don't go farther than the 7-11 off of Crest Pine and 13th, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Have fun. For dinner, should I just make a sandwich?" You inquired, knowing full well it was only about nine-thirty in the morning.

"We'll leave some money on the counter. Order a pizza."

Oh, so you get the house to yourself all day, no one to bother you, and a pizza. The day was starting to look up.

"Oh, and one more thing. Sherriff Morgan is gonna drop by later to talk to you about the whole Sanitarium thing. He'll be here for a while, so, be nice and... oh, just try to sound smart. You know, not sarcastic or anything. Please?" He explained.

His comment stung slightly, but you nodded anyways.

"Thanks, kid. See you later." He shut your bedroom door and you stumbled out of the way as Michael came crashing out of the closet.

"Yeah, no duh. Hope you didn't bust it, or I'm gonna be dead meat." You grumbled, inspecting the hinges on the closet.

"Yeah, well, I hope it wasn't just to break through my closet."

"With what? Learning how to fit in a closet?"

"My question still stands."

"I can't. Your sister, she's, uh-"

"Well, I'd hope she's six feet under the ground by now." You turned from your (somehow uninjured) closet to face Michael.

"What, you want me to preform the autopsy? I don't have the license for that. I haven't even been to a medical school."

"Does it involve murder?"

"That's a first. Yeah, I guess."

"And you want Laurie's corpse why?"

"Yep, I get the point. Listen, uh, Michael. I'd love to help you out here, but I can't. The Sherriff is coming over in a bit to talk to me about the fire at Smith's Grove or something, and he's going to be here most of the day. Plus, I was left money for pizza. Since I'm by myself, there's nobody here to get the last slice except me. Could this maybe wait until, oh, I don't know, after the funeral?"

"Yeah. Yeah, no, I have zero interest in going to the morgue. Everyone there is so dead-beat."

"Says who?"

"Okay, but you don't tell me what to do."

"And if I were to still refuse to go with you, what would The Boogeyman do?"

You sat in silence for a while. You weren't too sure, but you were pretty sure that stealing a dead body was a federal offense. Also, you've seen your fair share of dead bodies. From your neighbors to Tommy Brandyn, you were over the corpses. You really didn't want to help Michael steal one, but did you really have a choice? You knew what Michael did best, you had seen it first hand. Quite frankly, you weren't ready to die.

"Fine. But, it has to wait until Sherriff Morgan leaves. I don't know when that will be, or when he'll be here."

___________________________________

"Thank you for your time, kid." Sherriff Morgan put his sunglasses on that made him look official before standing from the couch. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help." You lied. You were sorry that Sherriff Morgan was under so much stress with trying catch Michael and now, filing an arson report. However, you could be of more help. You just didn't want to anger the homicidal maniac that had was hiding in the attic right now.

"That's alright. I've still got more people to talk to. With them, maybe I can make sense of all of this. Have a good one. And, tell your aunt and uncle happy anniversary for me."

"I will."

Sherriff Morgan walked out the front door, and you released a sigh as his patrol car pulled out of the drive way.

You checked the time as you made your way upstairs and to the attic ladder. Sherriff Morgan had been here since five, and it was now seven P.M.

"You can come down now." You poked your head into the attic and looked at Michael, who was currently snooping through Christmas decorations.

"No. I'm ordering my pizza. I've got the money and the opportunity, and I'm not wasting it. If you'd like, you can have some." You offered.

"Fine." You climbed down from the ladder to allow Michael room to come down, and he had an inordinate amount of dust and insulation in the hair on his mask.

"You look like a homicidal grandpa. Dust out your hair." You said, pulling up the number for F/P/J (Favorite pizza joint).

Michael ran a burned and scarred hand through the fake hair, and a good majority of it landed on the floor.

You ordered a large F/P (favorite pizza), and the lady on the other side of the line gave you a fifteen minute time estimate. That gave you about fifteen minutes for Michael to explain his plan. You had already explained to him that you refused to talk about dead people while eating (claiming that it was unsanitary for the mouth and the mind), and after a while, he relented and said that you could eat in peace.

"Home? I'm sorry, your sister isn't staying here, but only because she's dead."

You nodded, confused on Michael's words. His home? Where was that? Here? Well, yes, he did live here, but only until he was six. Then, he went to Smith's Grove. He couldn't go there, because he burned it down it burnt to a crisp, so that was out. He already said he wouldn't bring Laurie here, so that was out. But, then again, you can't really trust Michael Myers.

Where else could he go?

A/N: Okay, this chapter is really long, and my noodles are getting cold, so October 18 will just be a part two to this one. Sorry, but I've got noodles!