AN: Hey! If you've read my other fanfics, you know I have two I still need to finish but I've been dying to start this one and can not wait to publish it ^.^ This is my first Halloween fic so PLEASE NO FLAMES and hopefully everyone loves it or at least likes it haha. Also my main character's name is Katarzyna (Cat-are-zin-uh), it's the Polish form of Katrina.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Halloween series in anyway =(. But I DO own the OCs in my story.
Prologue part 1
Bold -Underlined- Michael's writing
We were best friends growing up, despite being 3 years apart. They used to joke that we were sweethearts and while he could easily ignore them, I would get embarrassed, which would lead to anger…
It had been my first day of school when we met. Instead of kindergarten, I was skipped ahead two grades due to my unusually high test scores, something practically unheard of at the time for our town. When a group of third graders came up to me, I knew it wouldn't be good; my whole life was a perfect joke to them. My name is Katarzyna which was so uncommon that other kids teased me throughout my childhood. It only added insult to injury that my mom skipped town when I was two, my dad was a neglectful, shut-in, drunk, I was five yet had the mindset that possibly exceeded middle school, and I was tall enough to fit in with the older kids that would soon be my classmates. My appearance didn't help either; I have heterochromia which means I have two different colored eyes: one blue and the other green.
All this wrapped together, made my family one of the favored topics of gossip; his family being at the top of the list in juicy rumors. I would hear people talk about them all the time: the mom and boyfriend screaming at each other, the two eldest kids always fighting, the daughter's promiscuous behavior, the mother's job as a stripper, and the son being "deeply disturbed."
"Look who it is!" one kid said as everyone began to surround me, making me press into the tree behind me.
"it's Katana, the second Haddonfield freak," another sneered while one girl began to twirl a piece of my chocolate brown hair with her finger. I held my books closer to my chest and tried not to look intimidated.
"It's Katarzyna and I'm going to be late," I tried to push my way through, only to have someone shove me back into the tree. One buy got close to my face and scoffed.
"You look like the spawn of Frankenstein with those eyes of yours," I could feel tears of anger rimming my eyes and I thought up a smart comment about how he even knew who Frankenstein was. But before I could speak, everyone laughed, loudly.
"Aw, we're making her cry, guys!" the boy slammed the books out of my hands and they began to close in on me. Just as one boy grabbed my shoulder, a rock suddenly flew towards us and hit him in the leg. Everyone turned as the boy cried out and released me. I looked over and saw another boy a few feet away, glaring at the kid that was holding his leg in pain. From where I stood, the only thing I could make out was his shoulder-length blonde hair.
"It's the Myers kid!" someone yelled.
"Get him!" I watched the blonde haired boy run down the street as the group chased after him. Myers; I knew that name, that family lived down the street from me, the center of Haddonfield gossip, the son being known as the first Haddonfield freak.
And he just saved me.
"Here!" I called. As the teacher continued calling out names, I ignored the strange looks the other kids gave me.
"Myers?" I looked around as his name was called. He wasn't there. It was the same in all my other classes too; teachers would call his name and there would be no response. With lunch finally came around, I finally found him.
He sat at the base of the tree beside the playground where the younger kids played. I clutched the brown paper bag that contained my lunch, tighter, as I walked up to him. He stood out from everyone else in dark denim jeans, a black T-shirt with a gray plaid shirt overtop, unbuttoned. On his face was a simple mask that looked homemade.
"Hi," I said and sat beside him. He nodded, but continued to look at the lunch tables a few feet away where the other students sat.
"Thank you for saving me this morning," I pulled out my sandwich and ripped it in half, "I'm Katarzyna, but everyone called me Kat," he was silent a moment before responding.
"That's a weird name," his voice muffled behind the mask.
"It's Polish, that's where my grandparents were from," I explained, "What's your name?"
"Michael," he said simply.
"Do you want some lunch?" I asked, holding out half of the sandwich. He stared at it a moment, unsure if I was playing a trick on him or not. Cautiously, he took the sandwich and lifted the mask from his face. That's when I saw the black eye and cut lip; those kids beat him up! I felt guilt flood through me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"This morning, when those third graders chased you. They hurt you," My voice was small and began to sound like my real age.
"They always chase me," he shrugged and fell silent again. I continued to eat and watched the kids on the playground. I was never one to run around and play, I preferred climbing trees or sitting in my bedroom with my guinea pig, Baby. I was always called antisocial by the family members that still talked to my dad and I, and that was very few. I was pretty sure I scared them all when they visited about two years ago and I had found a dead rat, deciding to make it my pet.
"Are you new in Haddonfield?" I turned and saw him studying me, his blonde locks falling slightly over his face. His eyes were a stormy blue and it felt as though he was looking into my soul.
"No, been here my whole life. My house is down the street from yours," It was his turn to be surprised, though he didn't really show it.
"I've never seen you around before,"
"I like to stay inside. It's my first year of school too; I should be in Kindergarten,"
"You're five and in second grade?"
"I'm really smart," I waited for him to laugh like the others, but instead he just shrugged.
"You don't find that weird?"
"You're asking me if I find you weird? You don't know enough about me yet," I let out a small laugh before finishing my lunch and watching him play with his mask. It was paper-machete and pure white with only two holes for eyes.
"I like your mask," I said, "I've never had one since my dad never bothers with holidays, especially Halloween,"
"But that's the best holiday," he said, the corners of his mouth twitched upward to a barely noticeable smirk just as the bell rang.
Even after lunch, Michael wasn't in the rest of our classes, but he was standing outside school at three, apparently waiting for me.
"I'm walking you home today," was all he said. I followed close behind him as we crossed the street and eventually found ourselves in the woods. Autumn was beginning to make itself known as the leaves on the trees were changing from greens to reds, oranges, and yellows. There were no sounds, except for the occasional bird or squirrel.
"I've never been in the woods before," I said, breaking the silence.
"I'm always here," he responded.
"Maybe, I'll show you later," he answered, vaguely. I noticed a glint in his pocket from the sunlight and could see something shiny and a possibly sharp. Looking back at me, he followed my gaze and shoved his hand into his pocket, shielding the object from my view. Finally, we made it out of the woods and I was surprised to see we were only a few doors from my house.
"Thank you," I said as we came to my porch. Michael nodded and I made my way up the steps, opening my door.
"Hey," I turned back to Michael.
"What's your favorite color?" he asked.
"Crimson," he nodded and began to walk down the street to his house. I smiled to myself as I went inside.
The next morning, I found Michael waiting for me on my porch, carefully putting a paper bag in his backpack. He wouldn't tell me what it was, despite my begging the whole way to school. Even in class when I sat with him (because we were the only two kids without partners), he would just smirk and shake his head whenever I passed him a note about it.
At one point, he asked to go to the bathroom and I took my chance to go through his bag, but I couldn't see anything under the collection of papers and notebooks. When he came back, I noticed there was a slight bulge under the side of his shirt. He had known I was going to look through his stuff! I spent the rest of the class pouting while he looked proud of himself.
"Here!" he said when we met at lunch, under his tree. I took the bag from his hands and he suddenly looked uncomfortable, "You're impatient," he mumbled. Excitement filled me as I eagerly pulled the brown paper away and looked at the contents inside. It was a mask, just like his, only it was crimson with some black outlining the eyes and frame of the mask. Flipping it over, my name was scrawled across the top in Michael's messy handwriting.
"You spelled my name wrong," I smiled.
"It's not exactly common,"
"Thank you, Michael," I held the mask close, "I love it," that was the first time I ever saw a full smile on his face. If he loved Halloween and masks so much, then I just made his day. He helped me try it on and the scent of paint and paper-machete surrounded me.
"Aw, look! Two days and the freaks already found each other," we looked over at a fourth grade boy who stood with his friends as they laughed at us. I noticed Michael's fist clench, but he kept quiet. I shifted uncomfortably and down at the ladybug that ran over my hand.
"They even have matching masks!" The boy yelled before lunging forward to grab my mask, but I was faster and stood up, shoving him. Laughter was heard as the boy sneered and stood up. He went to charge at me when suddenly, Michael was standing between us.
"Leave her alone, Wesley," his voice was different, emotionless; almost like he was a different person. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were nearly white. The boy, Wesley, laughed.
"What are you going to do, Myers?" he demanded, shoving Michael who bumped into me and making me stumble back. I heard a crack and realized Michael had fallen on his own mask, snapping it. Wesley laughed as he and his friends left. Michael stared at his broken mask, looking heartbroken before it was quickly replaced with anger when she watched Wesley's retreating form. I could see the rage clouding over the stormy blue of his eyes and that's when I realized the truth:
Michael Myers was dangerous and just waiting to snap…
(Two and a half weeks later)
After the incident with Wesley, I began to see Michael in a different light. I noticed he would never talk to anyone other than me and preferred to wear the masks he made, despite being constantly told to remove them. He would always keep an emotionless expression unless something amused him, then he would show a barely noticeable smirk. He also had a wicked temper that showed, especially when he was provoked. I started to like him a whole lot more.
I also noticed when we walked home, everyday through the woods, Michael would cast a quick look over at a hidden path every time we passed. It took about a week before I finally convinced him to show me whatever he was hiding.
I was giddy with excitement as I followed Michael through a concealed path in the woods. He kept his eyes straight forward with his hand buried in his pocket. The farther we went into the trees, the more dense it got.
"How much farther, Michael?" I asked but he didn't answer, "Michael?"
"We're almost there," his voice was different again and I guess I should've been scared, but I trusted him; we were a lot alike. Eventually, Michael stopped and casted a glance to his left. I followed his gaze to a strange object protruding from a pile of leaves. I moved forward to take a closer look and let out a soft gasp when I realized that it was the dead body of a squirrel.
"That's not the only one," I heard him say from behind me. I turned and found him still in the spot he stopped in, staring at me intently. That's when I figured out what that place was: an animal graveyard.
"You did this?" I asked and began to find more hidden animal corpses. He simply nodded, "How?" I breathed. The hand that had been in his pocket came out holding a scalpel. I could only stare at it while he studied my face, a smirk on his face.
"Scared?" he asked.
"Why? I just revealed to you that I kill animals," he had one eyebrow raised, which was the most emotion I'd seen out of him all day.
"I don't know! I like to kill mice and rats we get in my house during the winter. I always have," I shrugged. This revelation about Michael didn't shock me and I don't think it would've surprised Haddonfield either.
"You can't tell anyone," he said, gravely, putting his mask on. I didn't answer right away as I looked at him.
"Okay, as long as you keep my secret,"
After that, we became a little closer; walking to and from school together, I kept more of his secrets and he made sure that no one messed with me. I also learned more about his…hobby. For example, if I had dug deeper into his bag when I was searching for my mask, I would have found pictures of the animals he killed. He taught me how to better catch the mice in my house and even helped me get rid of them from time to time.
"Do you want to come home with me, today?" he asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"Really?" I had been wanting to meet Michael's family for a while, but he always had an excuse or just flat out said no.
"Judith has something to do afterschool and Ronnie won't be back for a few days," he shrugged. Everyone knew when Michael's mom and her boyfriend, Ronnie, fought, he would leave and not come back for a few days. I kept in step with Michael as we followed our usual path through the woods. We both casted a glance at his "graveyard," but neither of us said anything. When we made it to the house, I hesitated following Michael up the porch and inside. The only sounds I could hear were from the TV in the living room and a baby laughing. I saw the sudden bounce in Michael's step as we entered the room where a woman sat on the couch holding a baby. The woman looked to be in her later 20's- early 30's with long blonde hair that fell to her waist and dark blue eyes.
"Hi mom," he said, his voice more animated than it normally was in school. He deposited his backpack beside the couch and I followed suit.
"Hey Michael, who's your friend?" she asked. Placing the baby in the swing nearby, she walked over to us. She was quite tall and beautiful. I could also see the resemblance between her and Michael.
"Katarzyna," he answered.
"Kat," I smiled, giving a little wave.
"Call me Deborah," she responded, "I hate to leave but I need to get ready for work,"
"I thought you were off tonight?" I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
"I was, but a girl called in sick, so I have to take her shift. I should be back by ten," she explained. With that, Deborah left and Michael made his way over to the baby, lifting his mask from his face.
"Hi, Boo," he cooed, kissing the little girl on the top of her head. The girl screeched and gave a toothless grin.
"That's my nickname for her; her real name is Angel," he explained.
"How old is she?"
"5 months," he replied and continued to play with his sister. Feeling out of place, I walked over to the far wall where several pictures hung. They were mainly of Michael and his sisters, but there was one that rested on the end table just under them. It was a family photo with everyone in a hospital room. Deborah was holding a newborn Angel in her arms with Michael sitting next to her, surprisingly, smiling. A man stood on Deborah's other side with a girl, who I could only assume was Judith. With the exception of his hair being a dark brown, the man looked like an older version of Michael, almost.
"Who's this?" I asked, pointing to the photo. Michael stood, despite Boo's cry of protest, and came over.
"That was my dad," his voice was stoic again, "he died a week or so after Boo was born. Car accident," he stared at the picture before returning to his sister, "About a month ago, my mom met Ronnie and he had helped us with money and bills. Then he began to show his true. I hate him," Hearing the latent anger in his voice, I went over and sat beside him.
"My mom left when I was two. Now all my dad does is stare out the window and drink," we both fell into our own thoughts, until Boo leant over and grabbed a chunk of Michael's hair and yanked. Hard.
"Ow!" Michael winced as Boo laughed. I stifled my own laugh as he rubbed his head and Boo leaned over again, mimicking her brother's movements and petting his head. The sweet moment was broken, however, when the front door suddenly slammed and I saw Michael stiffen.
"I'm home!" a female voice yelled, "That tutor crap you made me take was cancelled!" A teenage girl with curly, light brown hair came into the room, wearing denim shorts that looked three sizes too small and a tube top that left little to the imagination. Taking off her jacket, she set her sights on Michael and I. I looked over and saw Michael's fist clench, something I learned he did as a way to control his temper. It didn't always work.
"What's this?" she laughed, "The brat has a girlfriend? I always thought you would go the other way," she continued to laugh until she locked eyes on the mask Michael had made me, that I had kept attached to my backpack.
"You even have matching masks!"
"Shut up, Judith," Michael sneered, "Kat's my friend,"
"Uh-huh. So I guess you don't need your rats anymore to help you-,"
"Judith!" Deborah yelled as she came back into the room. Michael shot up, looking angrier than I'd ever seen him. I didn't know what Judith meant by the rats, but I was sure it wasn't anything good. I looked up at Michael who was silently seething.
"I'll take you home, Kat," he said, quietly. I nodded and stood to get my bag when I heard Judith's voice.
"I've heard of you; you're that genius with Boo Radley for a dad," she said, looking at me, "Nice eyes," she added, sarcastically. I opened my mouth to reply when Michael grabbed my arm.
"I'm shocked you even know who Boo Radley is," he spat, "And her eyes are fine!" we left after that with Michael practically dragging me out the door. As soon as the door closed, the infamous yelling began and Boo started wailing. Michael was silent as we walked to my house, glaring straight ahead.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as we made it to my porch. I gave a tight smile, knowing that we would have had more time to actually hang out if Judith didn't come home and embarrass him.
"It's not your fault. We can try again another time," he nodded and waited for me to get inside before turning back down the street. I watched from the front window and noticed that he was walking slower than usual, no doubt dreading the impending war at home. I turned and walked into the kitchen where I saw my dad staring out the window with a beer bottle, half-empty, in his hand.
"I'm home, papa," I said, quietly. He grunted in response and took another drink from the bottle. Sighing, I went to my room and was met with the happy squealing of my guinea pig.
"Hi Baby," I cooed as I picked the furry, black, critter up. She was quite old, at eight years old and nearing the end of her lifespan. She curled up in my lap and continued to make peaceful noises.
"You would like Michael," I said, petting her soft fur, "He isn't that bad, at least to me," Baby squeaked and pushed herself further into my hand. I placed her on my pillow and unfastened my mask from my backpack, placing it on my desk. I thought about what was probably going on at the Myers house: Michael and Judith in the middle of WWIII while Deborah tried to calm them with Boo screeching to match the other voice levels. Sighing, I closed my eyes and placed Baby on my stomach as I plopped on my head on my pillow.
That night, about 10:30, I slowly woke to the sound of something hitting my window, like pebbles. Baby had moved from my stomach to beside my ear, squeaking happily. The tapping continued and I stood, placing Baby back in her cage and made my way to the window. My eyes widened when I saw Michael looking up at me, a bunch of little rocks in his hand. He motioned for me to come outside and I rushed to change into a clean pair of jeans and a sweater.
I could hear my dad's thunderous snores as I crept down the stairs. At some point, he had left his spot in the kitchen and moved into the living room, passing out on the sofa. He didn't budge as I slipped on my boots and left the house. Michael was still in the same spot when I ran around the house to meet him. He had dropped the rocks at his feet and adjusted the blue mask on his face.
"Are you okay?" I asked, tapping the mask's rough surface.
"Yeah, Judith punched me, so it's pretty bad," he shrugged, "I hit her back so eye for an eye," I wasn't surprised about how casual he was about it; this was probably a common occurrence. Sibling rivalry to the next level.
"Do you wanna go for a walk?" he asked. I shrugged and looked around before following him. The streets were quiet as we walked down them, making our way to the woods. He was silent the whole way, the darkness and his mask casted a shadow over his eyes making them look black instead of blue.
"So, what are we going to do?"
"I need to blow off some steam and thought you might want to come," he answered. Something told me that I knew exactly what he meant.
"You're not going to kill something, are you?"
"I won't do it in front of you. I just thought you'd like to tag along, especially with the wild rats and mice you deal with," he shrugged. Silence fell over us again as the trees made the night even darker, making me take hold of Michael's arm and grip it tightly.
"So, did you hear about Ms. Willis' cat running away last week? No one can find it anywhere!" I rambled, "Hopefully a car didn't hit it,"
"Was it black with brown stripes?"
"Oops," he said after a moment of silence and I let out a heavy sigh. At least a car didn't hit it. We continued walking until we came to a small clearing with a large tree in the center. I curled up at the base while Michael remained standing beside me. It was silent for a few moments before he spoke.
"I'll be back," and with that, he turned and disappeared into the woods. Suddenly alone, I felt uncomfortable; I wasn't afraid of the dark, but more of what was lurking in it. To take my mind off of my discomfort, I began to pick at the bark on the tree, behind me. Eventually, the boredom became too much and I chose to follow the path Michael had vanished down. I found him not far off, staring at something, the bloody scalpel in his hand.
"I thought you were going to wait for me," he spoke, not turning around.
"I got bored,"
"No!" he let out a chuckle and slipped the scalpel into his pocket. After wiping his hands on his black shirt, he lifted up his mask and I could see, from the moonlight, his eye and cheek were bruised but the swelling had gone down, it seemed. I also noticed his once blue eyes were indeed black. I couldn't find a trace of emotion on him anymore.
"Sometimes, I forget you're only five," he muttered and I felt like he had just punched me in the stomach.
"So? Mentally, I'm older than you and the other kids!" I practically shouted, anger coming off me in waves, "It shouldn't matter! Besides, you're only eight!" Michael's face remained blank of any emotion.
"Kat-," he began but I cut him off.
"I kill the mice and rats around my house all the time AND have seen your animal graveyard! Why should I be afraid of you?!" I didn't bother waiting for a response as I turned and stormed off, eventually finding my way home.
For the next few days, I tried to avoid him at all costs, refusing to talk to him. But I soon found that you can't hide from Michael Myers for long. Eventually, one day after school, he cornered me and demanded to know what my problem was. There was no apology or any intention of giving one, but somehow a silent understanding formed on what buttons not to push and we were friends again. I was never exactly sure how it was resolved so easily.
(Two years later)
Michael's tenth birthday was nothing big, just cake and ice cream. Two year old Boo clung to her brother's pantleg as we ran around the backyard. But, when it came time for Michael to give her a piece of cake, Boo took the opportunity to smash it in his face. It was a rare treat to hear him laugh while he cleaned his face, only for Deborah to smash another piece into him, resulting in an all out food fight.
A few hours later, when everything had been cleaned up, Michael all but drug me up to his room, only saying that he had something to give me. His bedroom seemed like an average boy's room; a bed, desk with a cage on top for his pet rat, clothes strewn about, and posters of his favorite bands. Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulled out an object wrapped in red paper.
"Here. Happy Birthday," he said, handing me the package.
"But, my birthday was a month ago,"
"I know, but I was able to get enough money to get your gift. My mom helped a little," he seemed uncomfortable as I ripped it open and gently pulled out a beautiful dagger. The freshly polished blade attached to an antique gold-painted handle with a crimson jewel in the center.
"My mom doesn't know I got you a dagger. She thinks I was saving up for a piece of jewelry," I heard him say.
"You remembered, I smiled as I thought back to the first time I saw the blade…
So far, the week of my birthday had been terrible; my aunt had come to visit from California to try and convince my dad to take me with her (I was shocked to see him come to life and adamantly argue to keep me), I had gotten three lunch detentions for not doing my homework, and on the day of my actual birthday, I awoke to find that Baby had passed away in her sleep.
Michael tried to distract me by taking me anywhere I wanted, even though he didn't like going out and doing anything. We had just gotten ice cream when we passed the thrift store. In the front window, the dagger rested in the center of all the other show pieces. I walked over and pressed myself to the glass.
"What's wrong?" he asked, coming up beside me.
"This dagger," I pointed to it, "My grandmother used to have one just like it," I looked at the price tag, "It's too much,"
"Wait here," he said and went into the store for a few minutes before coming back out. He didn't bring it up again.
After that, Michael began disappearing afterschool and days off, doing more chores around the house and doing small jobs for the rare few neighbors that weren't scared of him; namely Ms. Jennis, an elderly woman who was like a grandmother to all the neighborhood kids and was one of the few people that Michael highly respected and liked. I had known it was unusual behavior on his part, but then again, Michael was anything but normal.
"it's no big deal," Michael shrugged, "You really liked it and I guess you're my best friend,"
"Thank you!" I threw my arms around him in a tight hug and immediately his whole body stiffened.
"Kat, I'm not really a hugging person," his voice was strained as he pried me away from him.
"Sorry," I muttered, feeling myself blush. Having grown slightly taller over the years, it was easy for him when he patted the top of my head. The silence was broken, though, by Judith.
"Brat! Get off your girlfriend and get down here! Mom has something for you!" she yelled. Michael growled and clenched his fists, angrily.
"I'm gonna kill her," he bit out.
"Don't say that," I scolded. It wasn't uncommon for siblings to threaten each other, but when it came to Judith and Michael, those threats had to be taken seriously. For a while now, Michael had talked about harming not only Judith, but Ronnie as well. I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard Michael scoff.
"I can't take much more. Life would be so much easier if it were just me, Angel, and my mom, with Judith and Ronnie gone!"
"You don't mean that," I whispered.
"Wanna bet?" with that, he left the room and I followed close behind.
Twelve days later, on Halloween, Michael murdered Ronnie, Judith, and her boyfriend Steven…
Review! Would you believe this was 18 pages written and 14 pages typed?! I'm really happy with this and I hope you all like it. I figured Kat wouldn't know about Wesley and Michael killing him.
There are two parts to the prologue, the next part is when Kat is older and Michael is in the sanitarium.
Until next time, read and review!