Hi everyone, long time no see! Especially for this fandom. It's been a long 4 years. Enjoy this (late) Halloween one-shot. The idea and motivation came to me far too late to get it out in time.

Disclaimer - After almost 10 years, I still don't own the damn franchise.

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Kill, Michael, you must kill...

Pale, blank eyes flashed open to see an ominous black shadow off in the distance. It hovered about 15 feet above my head. The shapeless figure beckoned to me, calling me toward it. As if in a trance, my body obeyed, like the being had control over me. I struggled to break free of the control but to no avail. It was no use and soon I was standing before the shadow. Blood red demon eyes glared down at me, repeating its command.

Kill, Michael you must kill...

Dread overcame me. Not again.

It wanted me to murder people once again. The overwhelming frenzy to thrust my knife into anyone had returned. I had to I had to maim and destroy those who dared cross my path. Not only that, but Laurie was still alive somewhere. I had to execute her as well, since she was family. The curse demanded it, but I had other obligations.

I merely wanted to be free of the curse.

I reveled in killing people. Whether they were innocent or the scum of the Earth. It made me feel alive. Of course, that was before she entered my murderous life.

It wasn't until she found herself at my mercy, things begin to change. With no one to protect her that fateful night, I saved her from who knows what. If I hadn't stepped in, she may as well be dead by now. It's thanks to her, I retain some of my humanity.

Far more thanks to none other than our beautiful daughter, Annabelle. Never in my life I would have imagined I could be a father. Considering my homicidal tendencies, I shouldn't be. It's a miracle in itself I haven't killed her. I've nearly murdered Annabelle countless times, but I'm seldom able to even actually put a finger on her with it on my mind. Such an innocent child, I worry she is afraid of me. I wonder if she knows I've tried to kill her. If she does, she does a damn amazing job of hiding it. Children are surprisingly very sneaky, I've learned. At her young age of four, she's observant. She knows when I'm furious and knows to keep away while Krystal does what she can to calm my rage. I fear for the day when she is awake when I come home, bloodied and looking like hell after a slaughtering rampage. She wouldn't understand for years. Even then she may not understand in the way that Krystal does.

Krystal herself is something else. Through the years she managed to survive and somehow deal with my myriad of troubling personality traits. How she does it is beyond me. If I were any kind of sane in her position I would have left immediately. Why did she stay with me? Sure, she said she loved me, but why? I'm a monster. I can't think of a single redeeming quality I possess. I'm a psychopath, for fuck's sake. I've massacred so many people I've lost track. I killed them without a care, tossed them aside without regard. I cared about nothing, not even myself, to serve the curse. I killed to get things I needed so I could kill even more. I've hurt her and almost ended Krystal's own life numerous times.

But Krystal changed that. She's still changing it. I've no idea how she did it, but I feel somewhat "normal". Well, as normal as I can be.

Maybe, she is not in the right mind either. Clearly, nowhere near how fucked up I am. There was no way she's entirely mentally stable to willingly be with me.

I shifted, suddenly feeling something jabbing me in the side. My eyes opened for the second time, and I woke to two dark brown eyes and a tiny face directly in front of me. I initially wanted to strangle whomever had woken me, but seeing it was merely Annabelle, I relent.

"Daddy are you okay?" Her small voice asks me. My heart jumps every time she calls me Daddy, continuously reminding me how my life has changed. I'm always still in awe how I've managed to become a father. Her eyes move to my hands which had been clenched in my sleep. I've dug my nails into my skin, drawing blood. Annabelle isn't startled by me bleeding, seeing it many a time before.

I nod simply, to appease her. I'll never allow my child to truly know what goes on in my mind. The curse angrily echoes the demand, urging me to leave and seek out victims. I'm able to ignore it for now, but my head is pounding.

"Did you have bad dream a-again?" She stumbles over the last word, still learning to form her sentences properly.

I nod again.

"What are ab-about?"

I shake my head to the side this time, knowing she'll prod more.

"But why?"

I purse my scarred lips, reaching out to the bedside table, feeling around for my notepad and pen. My fingers eventually grasp them, and I began to write.

You don't want to know

"Why?" She presses, settling down on the mattress between Krystal and I, placing her head on my chest. She's ever so patient as I write out my responses.

I sigh heavily, They aren't dreams anyone should have, Belle

"Why?" She asks again.

This age is frustrating. The "Why?" phase. Why is the sun yellow? Why does it rain? What is this and that? Why can't I do this? Sometimes I want to ignore the questions, but I know she'll keep pestering me about them. As a father, it's my job to teach her I suppose, but Krystal should be the one to answer these questions, not me. I never did finish my schooling after all. Besides that, she shouldn't be taught about life from a serial killer, regardless of whether I'm her parent or not.

They are scary dreams, I scribble, hoping she will leave it at that.

"I like scary!" She naively exclaims, grinning up at me. She thinks she's being clever at faking bravery. I chuckle, brushing back the hair that fell in front of her eyes.

You won't like my kind of scary

"I will!"

Maybe when you're older

She's pouting at me now, her lower lip trembling. "You always say that, Daddy."

Because you're still not old enough

I pull her close and kiss her forehead. Hopefully that day never comes.

Abruptly, my aching headache is intensified tenfold. My body jolts forward so hard that the bed moves, causing Krystal to stir. Annabelle jumps at the sudden movement, hiding her face behind her long brunette hair, like hiding from a monster.

"M-Michael...? What's going on?"Krystal mumbles sleepily, rolling over to face me.

Her eyes are half-lidded as she struggles to look wake up. She's as stunning as she was the day when I truly looked at her as if for the first time. The day when she had caught me showering and caused me to break my arm - or so she thought. It was far too humorous to tell her I healed quickly because of the curse.

My dark eyes dart to the marks on her arms, neck and shoulder blades. Flaws upon her beautiful body. Imperfections that I caused. More reasons to question why this woman bothers to stay with me each and every day.

"Michael...?" She repeats when I don't react.

I'm about to write her a note, when Annabelle interjects. "Daddy had a bad dream, Mommy!"

Krystal is fully awake now, and scoots closer to me. Her eyes convey sorrow and worry. She rests her chin on my shoulder, "Everything okay?"

I know she's merely asking that to sway Annabelle into thinking there's nothing wrong, but Krystal is completely familiar with these moments. She knows what I'm being called to do. I nod in response to her question, wrapping an arm around her slender waist. Our eyes meet and it's silently conveyed it cannot be delayed any longer. She lifts her head, and I swoop down to gently kiss her soft lips.

"I love you," she says quietly, as we break apart. I kiss Krystal once more to reaffirm her.

I pull back the covers of the bed, swinging my legs onto the floor. I step over to the lounge chair and reach for my jumpsuit, slipping it on over the t-shirt and pants I'm wearing. I feel my ghoulish mask in one of the side pockets. Before I turn to leave, I give Krystal and Annabelle a last look, as usual. Krystal consistently stares at me like I won't be coming back. I'm never sure why she thinks that when we have both learned I can't die. I've been stabbed, shot at and burned, yet nothing has managed to put me down for good.

I'm in the process of opening the door when Annabelle latches onto my leg, stopping me in my place. "Don't go..."

"He has to go to work, sweetie," Krystal says, stretching her arms into the air.

Annabelle is tearful and doesn't release her hold on me. I kneel down to her level, giving her another quick peck on the forehead. She loosens her grip and I take my leave. I shut the door behind me, striding to the exit.

As I swing the door open, I'm briefly blinded by the bright light of day and chuckle to myself. 'Work' we call it. Murdering people and stealing their belongings so my family can live a decent life. Killing to please the curse. I believe Krystal tells Annabelle I'm a mechanic, which is a perfect ruse, as I typically return covered in dirt and grime.

I make my way to the parking lot, finding our vehicle and climbing inside. I glance through the driver's side window, the building towering above me. This was our life now. Moving from place to place. It wasn't long after Annabelle was born that Krystal and I decided it was no longer safe for us to reside at my childhood home. Especially when it was near burnt to hell. Once I scrounged up some cash from several unfortunate individuals I had Krystal purchase us a small car from a shady dealer that didn't require background checks. It was a piece of shit car, but a car nonetheless. We'd book a motel for a month or so and then after awhile move to another motel in the town. We continued to stay in Haddonfield, so I could continue searching for Laurie, assuming she was still around. I feel as though I ought to look elsewhere lately. It's been years since I've seen her in this damn place.

Approaching our vehicle, I unlock the trunk and rummage underneath the cover of the spare tire compartment feeling for my knife. My fingers find it eventually and I shut the trunk. I climb into the car, place the knife in the glove box, start up the car and back it out of the parking spot. I cruise around slowly, picking out my victim carefully. I'm honked at almost immediately for driving below the speed limit, and I've found my first casualty. I pull the car over to the side of the road as if I'm lost and let a couple of other cars pass before getting back onto the road. The honking driver isn't difficult to follow as they drive a bright red sedan. Once the driver heads for the grocery store and parks, I stop a few rows away, watching them go inside. I turn off my vehicle, collect the knife and walk toward the sedan. I look around to see if anyone is watching before sliding underneath the car. It's not a long wait until they return, and when they're close enough, I swiftly swipe my knife at their ankles, causing them to fall down in agony. I rapidly slash their neck next before they can scream, ending it with a stab to the face. I grab the corpse, tugging it beside me and out of sight. I claim their wallet and stuff it in my pockets. I pick up the groceries they purchased as well. Free food. Again, ensuring no one is watching, I crawl away from the car and return to my own. The pounding in my head begins to slow its intensity, and for that I am relieved.

Over the course of the day, I've slaughtered two more people. I've also collected a good amount of money. Krystal will be thrilled to hear that. She keeps mentioning wanting to buy new toys for Belle. 'She needs toys to expand her horizons and learns', she tells me. It hits me then, that one day we will have to discuss Annabelle attending school, if at all. Perhaps, if I find Laurie once and for all, I can live a normal life free of the curse.

You've got to find her first, you fool, the voice of the shadow berates.

The sun is finally almost set, and I prepare for my last kill of the night. I decide a bar is a suitable location, as it should be an easy task with little resistance. To my luck, the initial bar I drive to has a few unlucky souls loitering behind the building. Perfect. I park the car nearby, and reach into my pocket, pulling out my mask. The blank face stares back at me, tattered and torn from the years. I slip it over my head, exit the vehicle and move toward the trees, choosing to fuck with them first. I bend down, closing my fingers around a rock and toss it at the metal roof of the building so it resonates noticeably. The group collectively stops their chatting, turning their heads to me.

"Man, fuck off with that Michael Myers bullshit!" One of them yells.

I sneer devilishly behind my mask. They don't think it's truly me since it's not Halloween. This fact will make massacring them all the more entertaining. I slowly make my way to them, ominously silent. My hands are dug in my pockets, adding to my casual facade. I continue walking until I'm in the center of their circle and they immediately crowd around me.

A hand shoves my shoulder from behind and it does not move or faze me. "Didn't you hear my friend, we don't appreciate those freaks who go wearing that mask, pal."

I quickly determine which one of them had shoved me, pivoting on my heel and rapidly thrusting my knife upward into the man's jaw. He's dead instantly, and I remove the blade with ease while the body slumps on the ground. The remaining members are frozen stiff in their places. It's not until I've finished the next idiot with a stab to the heart when they come out of their stupor.

"Oh fuck me!" Another screams and begins to run. He's too sluggish due to his alcohol consumption and I'm easily able to grip the collar of his coat. My blade is dragged across his throat while blood spurts out and he too falls.

The following victim, not very bright, has broken his beer bottle and is coming at me with the shattered and ragged end. "Die, you monster!"

I catch his arm mid swing, manipulating it so the limb turns unnaturally. He cries out in agony as his arm is bent backward and flops about limply. My hands then snake around his head, my thumbs plunging deep into his eye sockets. The man collapses once I let go.

As I move my gaze for the final man, I find he is long gone. I decide to allow him to live for now. It's time to return to Krystal and Annabelle.

I glance down at my jumpsuit, noting the blood spatter all over it. Krystal will be thrilled to have to wash this again. Normally, I wouldn't care, but in the event Annabelle went poking around, there'd be a lot of explaining or lying neither of us are ready to give her. I remove my mask and stuff it back in my pockets, whilst simultaneously stowing away the knife. Upon returning to the car, I open the trunk and shuffle things around, looking for a plastic bag. I find a spare one, quickly unzipping and stepping out of my jumpsuit. I toss the jumpsuit inside the bag, slam the trunk closed, hop in the driver's seat and head off.

It's not a long drive before I arrive at the motel, pulling into a space. I grab the bag with my jumpsuit as well as the groceries my first victim had so graciously donated and proceed to the room we call our home for the next few weeks. I rap on the door, as Krystal holds the keys in the event I don't make it back the same day. The door is thrown open and I'm tackled to the ground by a three foot toddler, scrambling all over me. She's surprisingly strong for her age.

"Daddy!"

I smile, rustling her hair. Her teeny arms attempt to hug me, but she's far too small to encircle my waist completely. I'm about to stand, pick her up in my arms and carry her inside, but she crawls off, her attention elsewhere. Before I can stop her, Annabelle has peeked inside the plastic bag that has fallen open. I hear her gasp softly, uncovering my bloodstained mask. Annabelle is intelligent and knows exactly what is painted across the white blank face. I see my daughter begin to tremble and it's like time has stopped. Annabelle haltingly turns toward me and I instantly see the tears falling. I know exactly what she's thinking.

Monster

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First things first, holy crap...when I started writing this, I did not imagine at all it would end up being this length. I suppose I've missed writing Michael and his family so much that I got carried away! If you noticed, I left the ending a bit open ended, if you will. I'm teetering on the idea of continuing with this. Probably not a full blown story, but maybe a series of snippets in various moments in the life of the Myers family. I don't want anyone getting hopes up that it will be a certain thing, so please keep that in mind. I also have my other stories to consider that have been sitting neglected for the past year or more.

Now for the important news. For those who haven't read my profile recently, I plan to heavily edit Notes from a Killer. Whilst writing this one-shot, I was referencing the story and re-reading it for clarity. To be honest, I cringe at it and I'm...embarrassed to say I wrote it. I barely made it through the 200 words of whatever the hell the first chapter was. I don't even know how all of you managed to stick with the story after that opener. At least, half way through it became semi-decent. Some people may be aware, some may not, but Notes from a Killer is the number one reviewed and favorited Halloween story in the fandom. I'm honored and thankful, but holy shit I really, really do not think my story is worthy whatsoever. I began writing the story when I was 13 or 14 and I didn't really understand the ins and outs of writing as I do now. A lot of things did not make sense, I turned Michael into this...humorous character that was just not him. I put random author's notes and commentary in the middle of the chapters, distracting from the story. I mean for fuck's sake, I put in a random Star Wars reference having Michael hum the Imperial March theme. As you can see in this one-shot, this is how I plan to write Michael from here on out, assuming I do write him more. This is how he should have been written. I hope everyone enjoys this brand new Michael.

All in all, the story will be edited. Some of the plot may change or added to, so it's not so silly and devoid of description. I can't give an exact date when the entire story will be completely updated, but it will be gradual and take awhile.

xxKhaleesixx