Overtime, Michael Myers became a mere myth to Haddonfield. He was a story told by parents to their children to scare them on Halloween evening. Yet, the reality and the fear of what went down the 31st of Octorber, 15 years ago at 45 Lampkin Lane, still terrified passer bys to their bone and unnerved the tone.

But just 150 miles away, sat Michael Myers in Smith's Grove Santitarium. Far from the myth everyone wanted to believe.

Recently the Santitarium had gotten a new psychiatrist that the patients had honestly liked. Today it was Michael's turn to go see the psychiatrist.

Michael walked into the room, the chains around his wrist rustled and clinked as he walked, like shackles. He sat down in the chair, his arms were put back behind the chair, his hair draped over his cold emotionless eyes, his head directed down as he stared at his thighs.

He was tired, he just wanted this over and done with.. He wore one of thr masks he had just finished making recently, it was honestly one of his favourites. It was the all orange one that looked like aa replica of old wood. He looked up towards the door when it opened.