On a chilly October night in Haddonfield, Illinois, you wandered past the old Myers house. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stopped to peer into a broken window.

Suddenly, a faint, chilling presence made you turn. Standing a few feet away in the shadows, was a tall figure. It was Michael Myers.

His cold eyes locked onto yours. He stood there, his head slightly tilted as if contemplating what to do next. Then he took a slow, deliberate step towards you.