The door to room 100 opened slowly with a creak as Madison Mauberry entered from the dimly lit hallway into the almost pitch-black patient quarters of Tony Wilson.

She could barely see Tony underneath his blankets, but she did manage to catch a glimpse of a shape underneath them and figured he was asleep. Tip-toeing her way forward, she noticed the bed next to him was empty, while a tiny bit of moonlight leaked in through the window.

That, combined with the TV on the wall, represented the only light in the entire room. Madison looked up for only a second and saw some bimbo reporter speaking into a microphone and standing outside of Sheriff Robinson’s house, with a scattering of people clearly growing restless in the background.

Great, Madison thought. The media just can’t get enough, can they? Now even the townspeople had had enough. Ugh, she sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

Sitting down in a brown high-back chair next to the bed, Madison still couldn’t quite make out Tony under the covers, but figured he must be resting peacefully, so she quietly lowered herself into the cushion of the chair so she wouldn’t interrupt him.

Yawning, Madison couldn’t help but think how nice a snooze would be right at that very minute, so she rested her head on her hands and attempted to relax. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t nod off. Every time she closed her eyes, all that greeted her was the pale, blank mask of Michael Myers, staring right back at her.

At the same time, Madison didn’t notice the blankets moving beside her, and the shape that was beneath them sat upright, grabbing her arm.

“AHHH!” Madison jumped, her heart racing as she feared the worst.

“Hi babe,” Tony groaned, clearly struggling to speak.

“TONY!” Madison exhaled with joy, hugging him tightly. “You scared the hell out of me. How are you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Tony said with a grimace. “But watch it. My ribs are killing me.”

He pulled down his blankets and revealed his taped-up ribs, which bled through slightly onto his hospital gown. As Madison’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she also spotted bandages across the left side of his face.

“How’s your face?”

“The nurses put some lotion and bandages on it, but they don’t think any of it will be permanent,” Tony informed her, briefly flashing back to how he got those burns courtesy of a scalding steam pipe. And the evil that burned his face off of it.

“I’m so scared, Tony,” Madison whimpered. “I thought I might lose you.”

“It’s alright, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” Tony affirmed. “I’ll protect you, just like I did back at the house.”

That last statement sent a shiver down Madison’s spine. That was the last thing she wanted to think about. Despite that, she did take solace in the fact that Tony was alive and well—and right next to her.

“Who the hell was that guy?” Tony questioned, asking the obvious million-dollar question.

Madison didn’t reply right away. She just stared right back into his eyes, not quite sure how and what to tell him.

“It was--” she started to say, but was immediately interrupted by someone else standing directly behind them.

“Michael Myers.”

Madison recognized that bold, assertive voice right away, but Tony was clueless.

“Forgive me son, my name is Loomis, Dr. John Loomis, and I am here to help you.”

“Michael Myers???” Tony asked inquisitively, the look of surprise clearly written across his face. “The boogeyman??!!”

“Yes, he’s been called that,” Dr. Loomis responded. “You see, twenty-five years ago...”

“I know the story,” Tony interrupted, surprising both Loomis and Madison. “What’s that got to do with us?”

“I told Madison earlier, and I’ll tell you now. Michael Myers will stop at nothing until she is dead—and anyone else who gets in his way.”

“How? Aren’t there cops are all over the place?” Tony questioned.

“Were...all over the place,” Madison added before Loomis continued.

“The police think Michael is injured and retreating in the woods,” Loomis answered. “I’m afraid they are mistaken. At this point, it could very well be that they are the ones retreating. Hell, for all I know, they could all be dead by now.”

Tony looked to Madison, whose grave, serious visage told him that this man Loomis knows what he’s talking about.

“So what do we do?” he finally relented, exhaling with a deep sigh.

“Michael is waiting for the right opportunity to strike. We must be prepared for anything.”

“Like what?” Madison queried, looking at Loomis.

“Like I am going to have to face that fucker again, right?” Tony interjected, noticing Loomis’ attention seemed to be diverted. “Ain’t that right, doc?”

“I believe so,” was Loomis’ sullen response as he stared at the television mounted on the wall at the foot of Tony’s bed.

There, a female reporter identified as “Kerry Carson, WWAR News” by the small text on the screen, was interviewing police deputy Josh Barnes, whose name also appeared on the screen in similar text.

“Turn that up,” Loomis commanded, motioning to Tony, who grabbed the dial by his bedside and adjusted it so they could hear the report. By that time, Deputy Barnes was again off-camera.

“Once again, we interrupt this program to bring you this breaking story. I’m Kerry Carson reporting live for WWAR News. Witnesses say that around 11:15 earlier this evening, shots were fired outside of this suburban Haddonfield home. Details at this point are sketchy, but according to police, Michael Myers, an escaped mental patient formerly of Haddonfield, was involved in the shooting. However, it is unclear whether he was taken into custody or remains at large. We’ll bring you further details as they become available. Now back to your regular scheduled programming...”

“Doctor, what does that all mean?” Madison asked, clearly concerned as the news report went back to its regularly scheduled programming— a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.

Loomis, however, wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t help but get a shiver of fear down his spine at the sight of Deputy Barnes. Remembering Barnes was only a deputy, Loomis knew the media wouldn’t be interviewing him unless—

Unless the sheriff wasn’t around.

Or dead.

Fearing the worst for his colleague, Dr. John Loomis just stared blankly at the TV screen as Tony shut it off, the images of Ray Romano and Brad Garrett dissolving into pitch black.

“Dr. Loomis?”

“What?” he replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“What does that all mean?”

He looked first to Madison, then to Tony, then back to Madison before his sullen two-word response.

“He’s coming.”

Proceed To Chapter 13
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