“Hello, Michael,” Laurie Strode said, stabbing her brother in the back with a kitchen knife not unlike his own.

Completely taken by surprise, Michael Myers instinctively threw back his elbow, knocking the fedora off of Laurie’s head and sending her crashing onto her back.

Michael struggled, but managed to pull the knife out of his back. As he regained his senses, he found himself face to face with his destiny once again.

“Did you really think it was over, Michael?” the aging Laurie preached through a raspy voice. “Did you really think you would win?”

As expected, Michael didn’t respond. He just tilted his head in amazement that somehow, after all these years, his sister was still alive, living and breathing right in front of him.

“I guess that rooftop wasn’t quite high enough after all,” Laurie stated, looking Michael right in his cold, dead eyes. “We started a conversation up there we never got to finish. Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid to die, Michael? Because I’m not. I’ve been handcuffed to my fear for over 30 years, but not anymore. It’s cost me too much. One way or another, this ends tonight.”

Before she could say any more, Michael grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off of the ground with ease.

Laurie, clawing at Michael with everything she had, barely had an effect on the monster, but the weapons she had hidden sure did. One by one, she surprised Michael with a litany of shots, stabs and prods, gaining the upper hand on her brother for the first time since their encounter at Hillcrest Academy in 1998.

As Laurie dangled in the clutches of evil, she managed to stick a knife in his shoulder, zap him with a taser, and shoot him in the ribs with a nine-millimeter at point blank range. It was only that last blow that had any affect on The Shape, who momentarily relinquished his vice grip on her, sending her spiraling to the ground with a thud.

Staggering back to her feet, it was Laurie who went on the offensive, stabbing and slicing at Michael with everything she had. Myers, stumbling backward, finally collapsed to the ground in a heap, dragging his sister to the ground with him. Laurie repeatedly stabbed at Michael in the chest and stomach areas, causing the dark crimson blood of The Shape to spew all around them.

After a few moments, Michael stopped fighting back and Laurie, clearly spent, ceased her attack. Breathing heavily, she let out a loud, guttural cry, seemingly proclaiming victory as she began to collect herself. Splattered with the blood of her brother, Laurie licked her lips of his blood, spit on him, started walking away.

Ever relentless, the unstoppable Shape sat up and slowly ascended to his feet. Unbeknownst to Laurie, he took several steps forward and procured his butcher knife, which he’d lost during their battle. Hovering directly behind her, Michael raised his arm to strike. Laurie, sensing his presence, turned around, but not fast enough. Michael stabbed her in the arm, sending her sprawling backward in shock.

Clutching her arm in agony, Laurie shuffled away in distress, unsure of where everything went wrong. She’d hit him with everything but the kitchen sink, expending every ounce of energy she’d had left in the process. But it still wasn’t enough. No human being could have withstood that much punishment or lost that amount of blood and still survived. Yet somehow, after all that, Michael not only survived, but thrived.

Suddenly galvanized, The Shape stood over his exhausted and spent sister in triumph, placing his foot over her throat. Reaching up with both hands, Laurie coughed and gagged, but could not break free. Feeling the air leaving her body, Laurie started seeing spots and began to accept the inevitable.

When an unexpected loud shot rang out—- and the back of Michael’s head disappeared.


Michael Myers dropped to the ground in a bloody heap almost instantly. Laurie, thankful for her reprieve, took advantage of the opportunity and immediately pounced on her brother, stabbing him in the forehead-- right through his mask-- with his own butcher knife.

It was then she turned around and saw her rescuer--

Standing there, brandishing her father’s still-smoking shotgun, was Sherry Robinson.

“Thank you,” Laurie groaned, grabbing her arm in pain as she got back to her feet.

Sherry didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes remained fixed on the body of Michael Myers, which was now lying in a pool of his own blood.

Almost expecting him to sit up, Sherry cocked the shotgun again and pointed the barrel right at the front of his mask.

Only this time, The Shape didn’t move.

Sherry joined Laurie at Michael's side, and just as Sherry was about to prod his body with the barrel of the gun--

The rear passenger door of the police car flung open, and out popped Sienna St. Clair, still drunk out of her mind.

“Trick or treat, trick or treat, give me something good to eat!” she sang, slurring every single word out of her mouth.

Laurie rolled her eyes in disgust, and Sherry stuck her hand out to put her at ease.

“She’s with me,” Sherry said, with Sienna still attempting to finish her rendition of the song.

“If you don’t, I don’t care, I’ll pull down your underw--!”

“Sienna,” Sherry interrupted.

“Your underwear!”

“Sienna!” Sherry cried, tears welling up in her eyes. “You made it!”

“I what?” the inebriated high-schooler replied.

“Nevermind,” Sherry answered, hugging her best friend tightly. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“Huh? Okay,” was all Sienna could say.

As all three stood tall over their assailant, Sherry couldn’t help but remember her English class earlier in the day, and all that talk of fate and destiny. In fact, in some sick, twisted way, they’d become Haddonfield’s version of the three Moirai. The goddesses of death. It was the three of them that had felt the wrath of evil in its purest form.

But it was Michael Myers who had suffered the consequences.

It was his fate that had ultimately terminated.

“You girls go ahead,” Laurie interjected, turning her attention back to Michael’s body. “I have a little business to attend to first.”

Proceed To The Epilogue
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