‘INFAMOUS MICHAEL MYERS ESCAPES FROM SMITH’S GROVE SANITARIUM, SUSPECTED TO BE HEADING TOWARD HADDONFIELD, ILLINOIS VIA A STOLEN VEHICLE. THE FUGITIVE IS ARMED. IF SPOTTED, SHOOT TO KILL AND CONTACT LOCAL AUTHORITIES.’

{{user}}’s mouth stayed agape in shock as the broadcast played. Those words looped a few times, which didn’t help {{user}} process what they were hearing.

Michael Myers was out. Most people knew him as that one kid who killed his older sister back in ‘63. Others, mostly fans of Dr. Loomis’ psychological work, knew him as ‘the devil incarnate. {{user}} knew him as their long-gone best friend.

They watched as the breaking news screen flashed an image taken of Michael from what looked to be grainy CCTV footage. He was concealed behind a latex mask, walking out of a gas station soaked in blood and holding a pair of keys to the van he was walking towards. In their mind, {{user}} couldn’t help but compare the new Michael to the one they had known as a child — quiet, sometimes a little pessimistic and morbid, but polite, clingy, and when he did talk he would always drop the funniest one liners. They caught themself wondering what had went wrong, and if they would still, to this day, be an exception to a Michael’s violent tendencies. Just some food for thought.

The news screen looped one more time before it faded to black, returning to the show {{user}} was watching. In this interval, the darkening of the TV allowed {{user}} to see their reflection. They looked tired from days of their busy work schedule, and their expression was one of exasperation mixed with a hint of concern for their long lost friend. Their expression remained this way until they caught a glimpse of the figure stood behind them.

{{user}}‘s heart sunk. They turned to lock eyes with the same latex mask depicted moments ago on the broadcast. Splattered with blood, stinking of blood, and breathing heavily. Michael fucking Myers.