Chapter Two

A/N: Okay. I'm sorry it's short, and nothing much happens. Also I'm sorry it took a while to get it done, and I have no idea when the next chapter will be written. I suck, I know :( Anyway, I still hope you enjoy reading it :)

DISCLAIMER: Michael Myers is most definitely not mine, neither are the movies he features in.

Thank you to the lovely people who reviewed the last chapter:

MashuruD, Wylrin , Dorianimeyaoilover , Little Ghost Girl and BvBArmyWillStayStronge

Also a big thank you to the people who favorited the story and put the story on alert.

Where do we go from here? – Trigger: The Rasmus

It had been a smooth ride for a while until the road they were travelling on became bumpy. Lucas was getting jostled around inside the trunk and he was fighting to keep nausea at bay. Whether it was from the car ride or because of what he had witnessed. It could not have been have been more than an hour that he was stuck in the dense darkness of the trunk but to Lucas it felt like forever. When the car stopped and finally the trunk was popped open, Lucas scrambled to get out as quickly as he could. His legs felt cramped and as he stood on his feet again he stumbled a little before steadying himself. Michael just stood there silently, watching him. Lucas averted his gaze, instead looking around. They were in the middle of nowhere. There was a little ramshackle cabin a short distance away. Near to it was an outhouse. It had to be somewhere out of town, on the outskirts at least. The ground was dry and dusty, the soil baked over time by the heat of the sun. Wild grass was sprouting in threadbare patches.

"Where are we?" Lucas asked. Michael said nothing, just grabbed the teenage boy by his arm and started pulling him in the direction of the cabin. Lucas had to follow, it was either that or be dragged along and he much preferred to walk. When they got up onto the porch Michael grabbed hold of the door handle and wrenched down on it. All he succeeded in doing was making the door handle break off. He tossed it to one side and then stepped back a few steps before slamming the sole of his black boot against the door, which shuddered but the lock held firm. Michael kicked the door again, and Lucas was almost certain he heard a growl coming from the masked killer as his attempt to open the door was thwarted yet again. Michael strolled around the side of the cabin and Lucas followed a few steps behind, curious to see what Michael would do next but not wanting to get too close to him. By the time Lucas had turned the corner he saw Michael had a rock in his hand and it was not long before the rock was thrown, creating a sizable hole in a single pane window and sending pieces of glass raining down onto the ground. Michael cleared the rest of the glass still clinging to the window frame using his bare hand. He sustained a few scratches and a deeper cut on the palm of his hand, but he ignored it. Michael's gaze travelled from the window over to Lucas before he beckoned for the teenager to come forward.

Lucas sighed and without being prompted made his way into the cabin via the broken window. He just barely managed to get in, the window was small. There was no way Michael would be able to fit in there. Still, Michael would find a way in. Lucas knew that. For the moment though, he was alone and he studied his surroundings. The air in the cabin was stale and smelt musty. There was a thin layer of dust that had settled on practically everything in sight. The floor was bare apart from a rug which could have been a deep red when it was new, but now it was a murky brownish red color. There was a single makeshift bed pushed into a corner of the room, an old mattress covered with a dingy off white sheet and a faded blue comforter. There were a few cupboards lining one wall over a small counter and a propane stove. A small sink was there too, and when Lucas turned the faucet on, the pipes sputtered before a few drops of water came out. Lucas waited but no more water came. Seeing as how the cabin seemed to be abandoned, he had not really expected to find a working water supply but he thought that he might as well try. He peered into all of the cupboards but all he found was some old tins and a packet of stale trail mix. It had not taken long to explore the cabin, but as he had done so he found himself starting to get tired. And the time kept passing, slowly but surely. Was Michael still lingering around outside? What else could he be doing? Lucas was not even sure what the time was, but he knew it was late. Maybe past midnight. He had been through a lot, and his tiredness was starting to catch up to him. Lucas did not like the idea of sleeping on the mattress but it was better than the floor at least. So he shook the dust off the sheet, and then spread it on the mattress again. He sat down on the makeshift bed until he was too tired to sit up anymore. Just as he was settling into sleep he heard a knock.

There was only one door, the door that led into the cabin. Another knock came, this one louder. Lucas went over to the door. There was a simple but sturdy lock. A rusty key was hanging near the door from a rusty nail. Simple enough. All he had to do was pick up the key, insert it into the lock and turn it. As he was in the midst of unlocking the door, he hesitated. For a few moments he toyed with the idea of not letting Michael in, but what would he really achieve with that? Nothing. Michael would still find a way inside, and then he might be mad at Lucas. Besides, if all he was planning was to keep Lucas held hostage then why should that be a bad thing? He might be safer with Michael than he was at home. If he had been at home right now, he would probably have gotten into another fight with his stepdad. And he would have lost, like he always did. And even if it turned out that Michael had darker plans for him, at least he would not have to go back home. He was still afraid of what might happen to him, but his fear was balanced by his hope that somehow everything could turn out alright. Michael was a monster, but he had not always been one. And perhaps a part of him was still good. Or maybe Lucas was deluding himself. He opened the door wide.

Michael was there, holding a duffle bag, which he held out to Lucas. "That's... for me?" As usual, he was met with silence but he did see Michael nod. Well. That was progress. A small amount of progress, but it was some form of acknowledgement. "Thanks, I guess. I mean, I-I do appreciate it-" Lucas stopped talking when Michael slammed the door shut and just stood inside, staring at him. Lucas got nervous and retreated over to the makeshift bed, making a big show of rifling through the bag so he did not have to look in Michael's direction. There was a few bags of chips, a packet of peanuts and two bottles of mineral water. Michael had probably stolen the snacks and the drinks, but it was trivial considering all the other crimes he had committed. There were clothes too, and as Lucas looked more closely he was surprised when he realized the clothes were actually his own. And at the bottom of the bag was an old photo of Lucas and his mom. A photo he kept hidden safely in his room. Lucas's stepdad had destroyed all the other photos of his mom in a drunken rage not long after she had passed away.

"How do you know where I live?" Lucas asked, his curiosity overtaking his fear. "Did you...follow me? Is that what you did?"

"Yes, I did follow you" Michael replied. His voice sounded hoarse and was deeper than Lucas had expected. Michael had been silent for so long and now he was breaking his silence, after years of playing mute. "And I thought you would be like the others. Except you're not like them at all"

Lucas half smiled, looking straight up at Michael. "So you do talk..." He knew he should be worried about the fact that Michael had followed him .It was strange, but Lucas found that he did not care about it as much as he thought he should.

Thanks for reading :)