Halloween. Pennsylvania, Pine Creek. 1980s.

October 31st. Another Halloween was happening in that quiet town: teenagers, children, and even adults. All equally dressed up for the spooky night. Everything was lively and terrifying — if it weren't for the recent threat. Like in a horror movie, a serial killer was on the loose. Like Leatherface, the killer carried a bloody chainsaw, and his face was covered in different types of skin that he had ripped from his victims.

His number of murders was unknown; some were disappearances, others homicides that linked him — but nobody knew for sure if it was him or not. He had the intelligence to leave the bodies in places without any connection, making it difficult for the police.

On this Halloween night, he would certainly strike. However, the sheriff hadn't counted on the enthusiasts and fans the killer had: adults, teenagers, children, all dressed up as the monster that terrorized the town and killed without mercy. Fake leather masks, toy chainsaws, or even cardboard ones…

Dressed in his usual clothes, he walked among the people. Some praised him; others were surprised by how realistic the killer-inspired costume could be. He felt lost: no one was afraid, no one ran away in terror when they saw him. He was the real one, his mask had just been sewn back on and his chainsaw had real dried blood on it. He was real! Him!

The night was at its peak. People came and went, and he still hadn't chosen a victim—there was no way to scare those people. They were barely startled or only feigned a playful fright. His steps were slow and clumsy; his build too large and developed for a teenager. He ended up bumping into and even knocking people down.

Then—thump—he knocked a girl to the ground. He wasn't going to bother looking, but her dress got caught in the teeth of the mask. He looked back as he pulled the hem of the dress and finally looked at her.

For a moment, he was surprised. She was just a girl in costume... but it was as if he had seen an angel in front of him.