Hey guys! You missed me didn't you? Ha-ha my awful attempts I call jokes. Anyway, this is my first Halloween fic, it's gonna have a bit of fluff so if you don't like that piss off. Enjoy my smexy chalupas!

3:05 AM

I turned the page of my book, waiting for the bus to drop me off in Haddonfield Illinois. Each page filled me with delight, every star and galaxy explained and drawn so beautifully.

This is why I have no friends. And no future. And no life.

Or I guess it could be the fact that the only reason I'm visiting Haddonfield is to finish what I should have finished two years ago. My eyelids began to droop as the bus came to a stop in a well populated urban area, mid city maybe. I don't know, and I sure was too tired as fuck to care.

I stood up almost loosing my balance, but gripping the arm of a chair beside me for extra leverage. Then walking toward the front of the bus and hopping down the steps onto the bright lights of the city I once knew so well.

About to walk away the bus driver called out trying to seek my attention.

"ma'am, you forgot your I.D"

I turned around to see the red faced man handing me the plastic card, "thank you sir"

He smiled and looked down at the important piece of plastic, "you welcome Ms. Morgan"

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000

Michael looked down at the broken hand-cuffs that rested in front of his feet.

Why did he feel so guilty?

-oh yes. That's right, he was a psychopathic cereal killer that massacred his family.

They never truly loved him, and he despised them for that.

He wondered what it was like to actually have emotion, then shrugged and said "nah. Too much effort."

He walked into the backyard to chop some more wood for the nights fire place, considering that a demolished house had no furnace and a malfunctioning oven; that fireplace was all he had.

And of course he always traded goods with Leatherface, Jason, and Freddy. Some of his fire wood for Leatherface's meat and grain, or Jason's stolen goods, and especially Freddie's hand knitted sweaters.

He LOVED Freddie's cozy sweaters.

Then realizing he had some "errands" to finish tonight, he left the house, forgetting to lock the door.

He came back home a few hours later; his knife and clothes stained with blood. He placed the knife on the table on the kitchen counter; about to make his way to the living room where he could rest but then hearing an abrupt thud against the upstairs floor.

"GOD DAMMET CAN'T A MAN GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE!"

He grabbed the butcher knife once again and gave an irritated groan as he headed upstairs into the now demolished room that used to be his sister's. he knew there was someone or something there, it was too quiet for him to assume otherwise.

He grabbed a flashlight that stood beside him to actually be able to see where the son of a bitch was hiding.

And there he was, little teenage bastard shouldn't have come here, he did this to himself. Now he was going to die, and Michael was going to watch with absolute bliss.

He darted towards the thin figure tackling him to the ground, the frail figure pushed him and ran into the room across the hall, with the brass door widely open and the teenage boy standing still in plain sight, he charged with all his speed and all his might. The moment he charged, with one flick of the boy's hand the brass metal door slammed shut, stopping Michael dead in his tracks and knocking him out cold.