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Laurie had the axe posed, ready to end Michael’s life. He was watching her, practically begging her for clemency.
Something...something struck her. This wasn’t Michael. She didn’t feel him. There were no tangible words to describe it. The dark presence that she always felt, that drew her in...it wasn’t there.
She dropped the axe.
The man in front of her collapsed as best he could in relief. That simply solidified the fact that this wasn’t Michael .
...Where did he go?
A frown was followed by her looking around cautiously. He could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting.
It didn’t matter. She would get to him first.
She waited. Waited for the ambulances to leave. For the police to get tired of questioning her and leave her alone. John had asked a few more questions of her.
“Mom, what are you doing?” He’d tried to urge her to a car. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m waiting,” she’d replied. “You should go home.”
He’d tried to convince her to leave, or go home, or something. It was likely he knew what she was planning. John eventually gave up at her simple request and let her do what she wanted. Her half-cocked plan. She’d loaded up as best she could with weapons. The police had been bothered but did nothing to stop her.
It was the only way.
Finally, eventually, the road was empty save for the debris that had been left and her. Laurie waited a little longer before she ventured off the path. Down the slopes, into the dry woods around her.
It was a few minutes of walking that saw her there. She stopped, letting out a breath of resignation, as she caught sight of him.
Michael. He was waiting for her in the middle of an empty field. The moonlight only highlighted the deep recesses of his face and the emptiness of the largely empty dirt clearing. It was strange, seeing him without his mask.
“So, you think the same thing?” Laurie asked, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer.
He tilted his head ever-so-slightly, letting her know he heard her. Laurie hefted the axe she’d been dragging over her shoulder. She trailed her fingers along the weapons that lined the hem of her pants. Laurie had tossed away the loose sweater, leaving only the undershirt tucked into her pants.
“You ready?”
Her question was the flipswitch. Michael started his normal unyielding march towards her.
She struck first. She put down the ploy axe and pulled out the pistol she’d liberated from an officer. She waited until he was a few feet away before she aimed for his chest, right at his heart.
Bam!
Her aim was true; he staggered from the shot.
It was only a second later that he recovered. She barely had time to pull the trigger again.
And again.
And again.
Each shot was steady into his chest. And each second he got closer.
It wasn’t long until she was out of bullets. She didn’t spare a moment as she dropped the gun and pulled out the largest knife she was able to get her hands on. This time she aimed for his shoulder. Destroying his guts wasn’t doing as much as she hoped. Maybe she would get lucky and he would bleed out.
Just as the knife struck, Michael grabbed her wrist. Laurie couldn’t beat him in a test of strength. He easily pushed her back, the blade pulling free and the blood staining the knife unevenly.
She dropped the knife as he twisted her arm. Another knife was pulled from her waistband by her free hand. She stabbed him hard, the knife slicing through his arm. Before she could pull it back, Michael grabbed it by the blade and wrenched it out of her grasp.
It was always so horrifying, seeing him shrug everything off. Even the cuts on his hand didn’t phase him as he readjusted the knife.
Shing !
Laurie screamed as he cut clean through the tendons in her trapped arm. He let her go for some reason. She took the opportunity to stumble backwards from him. Her arm hung loose at her sides, the blood dripping to the ground and muscles bunched up in her arm.
“Dammit…” she grunted.
Michael watched her for a moment. Why he wasn’t attacking she wasn’t sure. What she was sure about was that she just wanted it all over. She’d fought as best she could. And she lost.
Still, she wasn’t going to die on her knees.
Laurie quickly grabbed the axe from the ground. Her nails got some grit from the dirt, the sensation being something she knew she would engrave in her memory for how little of it she had left.
It wouldn’t be very good with only one arm. It was better than nothing.
She marched towards Michael who was still simply watching her. With a cry, she swung the axe up and towards his head.
He easily caught it. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her up into the air until they were face-to-face. Laurie hadn’t forgotten about the knife in his other hand.
“Do it,” she growled, staring him in the eyes.
Again, his head tilted.
“DO IT!” she yelled in his face. “DO IT, you bastard…!”
He didn’t move, not a solitary inch, for several seconds. Surprisingly, he dropped the knife and stroked her cheek once. Then he wrapped his fingers around her throat.
Laurie tried to gasp. Tried to do something to dislodge his hand. Kicking and flailing did nothing as she was embraced by darkness.
Laurie’s head was splitting when she came to. The daylight was shining too hard. She tried to move her arms to cover her face.
It was a moment later that she registered the fact that none of her limbs were working. The pain was registering slowly, as if she’d been out of it for days.
It couldn’t have been that long…
Could it?
She could see from where she was that she was in the back seat of a car that Michael was driving. How he could do that Laurie didn’t have a clue. Somehow he’d gotten his mask back. Unsurprising. Whatever dark force compelled him probably directed him straight to it.
Laurie tried to get up by propping herself on the door. She looked out, gaping at the familiar scenery.
Haddonfield. She could never forget her hometown.
Why would Michael bring her here? She’d lost. Given up. He’d won.
So why wasn’t she dead?
She considered screaming. But that wouldn’t help. It would end up with even more people dead.
This was her fate. Whatever Michael had planned, she wouldn’t escape. She would never escape.
Her gut clenched as she recognized the street they were on. She nearly threw up as she realized where Michael was stopping.
Their old home. Abandoned, likely considered cursed by Michael. It didn’t seem to have been too far off of a possibility.
She was tired and resigned. Laurie barely struggled as he picked her up from the backseat and hoisted her into his arms in a bridal carry. Anyone looking at them briefly wouldn’t see anything too amiss; it was only with a careful gaze that anyone could pick out the bloodstains on their dark clothes. Not that this street had many people.
Michael walked up the steps, almost seeming to be careful with her as he forced the door open. He closed it behind them, bathing the room in almost complete darkness.
Somehow he found his way around. He burst through into a room that Laurie had no idea existed. It was dilapidated, even more than the rest of the house, with chains littering the floor.
“What IS this!?” she said as Michael set her down onto the floor. He latched the chains on her useless limbs, as if putting insurance on the idea that her tendons might fix themselves.
He stepped back and watched her.
And it went on like that for what felt like eternity.
She took it as what it was: she was his. Forever.