HELL'S NIGHT II
CHAPTER 9- DEATH OF A SHERIFF


“Weber, this is Sheriff Robinson, do you copy?” the sheriff barked into his radio, desperately trying to get a hold of his deputy.

Sheriff Robinson’s heart was racing fast and pumping adrenaline throughout his body as he maneuvered his way through the fog and dense forestry, desperately trying to make his way to his comrades who have no doubt encountered Michael Myers.

“Damn I hope it’s not too late,” the sheriff muttered under his breath as he pushed his way through a thorn bush, his hands getting severely scraped up in the process. Despite that, he couldn’t feel a thing. His brain was focused on one thing and that was Michael Myers, who was only mere feet away from him, either dead or unconscious.

Then finally, he could bring this hell’s night to an end.

Approaching a small clearing in the woods, the fog began to lift a little bit and he could see further on the horizon. He instantly turned on his black flashlight and lit up a grisly murder scene on the forest’s floor.

The bodies of all his deputies were strewn about the ground, most mangled beyond recognition. Blood stained the majority of the fallen leaves on the ground, and some of the nearby trees had fresh blood trickling down the bark.

The sheriff was in disbelief at the site before his eyes. He took a step forward and almost tripped over another body. He shined his light down and quickly identified the body of Officer Weber. His head was smashed in, with parts of his brain oozing out of his temple.

It took everything the sheriff had to keep from vomiting, but he quickly regained his composure. Because he knew that if he was standing over top of Weber’s body, that meant that Michael Myers was still alive, and nearby.

With a chill down his spine, Sheriff Robinson drew his large six-shot revolver from its holster with the quickness of an old western cowboy, and held the gun out underneath the flashlight as he began to search for Michael.

He didn’t have to search long, because standing merely ten feet away was Michael Myers, standing completely still with a large butcher knife held up to his chest.

Without hesitation, the sheriff fired off a round that sent a loud echo through the quiet forest. However, once the gun smoke cleared from in front of the flashlight, Michael was nowhere to be found.

“Shit!” the sheriff yelled as his eyes frantically searched his surroundings.

“Officer Barnes, do you read me?” the sheriff barked into his radio trying to contact the one officer he left back at the house to handle the media. However, he only received static on the other end, and then realized the radio might be out of range.

At that moment, Michael lunged out at him, bringing down the large butcher knife directly toward the sheriff’s chest as he did.

Luckily for Robinson, he saw the shape out of the corner of his eye right when he was bringing down the knife and managed to move out of the way of the direct blow at the last instant. The knife still sliced through the top of his wrist, causing him to drop both his gun and his flashlight, and also slicing the top of his thigh.

The sheriff screamed in agony, but still managed to land a hard left hook square on Michael’s chin. This caught Michael by surprise, but he quickly recovered and wrapped his strong bloody hands around the sheriff’s throat, strangling him.

The sheriff never saw anyone in his life recover that quickly from any punch and when Michael’s hands grasped his throat, he also realized he never knew anyone in his life that was that strong, either.

His eyes bulging and turning red, Robinson, desperate for air, managed to knee Michael in the groin, causing him to release his grip.

The sheriff, knowing there was no way he could win this fight, started hobbling away, blind in the dark and fog of the forest.

The sheriff made it only about twenty feet before he lost his footing and slid down a steep hillside that sent him crashing into a field of shrubbery below.

After being dazed momentarily, he regained his wits and quickly recognized his surroundings. Off in the distance sat a small house with a few lights on, with smoke exiting the chimney. Apart from that sat a large, dark barn. Spotting that, Robinson knew almost immediately that he was staring at the Tower Farm.

His eyes wide with hope, Donald Robinson got to his feet and began to move quickly toward the house for help and safety.

Staggering forward, Sheriff Robinson went to scream for help, but when he opened his mouth only a blob of blood exited. Because at that very instant, Michael Myers plunged his large butcher knife deep into the sheriff’s back and twisted the blade inside him until his body fell lifeless to the cold autumn ground.

Yanking the knife back out, Michael stood victoriously over his newest kill for only a second before noticing the familiar farmhouse and barn in the distance. Tilting his head to the side, Michael stepped away from the sheriff’s body and slowly walked toward the house.


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