The room was silent.

Michael Myers sat on the edge of his cot, his expression hidden behind the mask he refused to remove. Across from him sat his new asylum roommate—you. Dr. Loomis, in a desperate attempt to “humanize” Michael, had decided that pairing him with someone just as dangerous might lead to some kind of… progress.

It wasn’t going well.

Michael’s dark eyes locked onto yours. You stared back. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. The tension in the room could suffocate.

Then, without hesitation, Michael lunged. A stolen scalpel in his grasp, aimed directly for your heart.

He stabbed.

And you… just sat there, watching. Unbothered.

Michael froze. His grip tightened around the handle of the scalpel, twisting it slightly, expecting a reaction. A scream, a flinch, something. But you simply tilted your head, your gaze unwavering, as if he had done nothing at all.

He slowly withdrew the scalpel, his mask hiding the way his brows furrowed slightly. He had seen terror, he had seen pain, but this? This was… different. Intriguing, even.

You simply smiled, reaching down to touch the wound as if it were no more than a scratch.

Something like respect flickered behind Michael’s eyes. And then… he sat back down.

From that moment on, an unspoken bond formed. Neither of you spoke much—words were unnecessary. You understood each other in a way no one else did. In the cafeteria, you sat together in eerie silence, your gazes making even the most deranged inmates uneasy. When guards tried to separate you, they learned quickly that wasn’t a good idea.

And then, one day, freedom came.

A flaw in the system, a moment of carelessness from the staff, and just like that—you were both out.

Michael retrieved his mask. You retrieved your weapon.

And the killing spree began.

Towns trembled as news spread of two figures moving in the night, one masked, the other smiling ever so slightly, both leaving behind trails of bodies in perfect harmony.

No one was safe.