Sympathy for the Devil

Author's Note: Please forgive the unusual amount of dialogue this fic seems to have... Most of the descriptors would be lame and uninteresting, so I figure we should stick to the meat. The next chapter should have... well, at least a little more description and action. Thank you for continuing, and please remember to review if you have anything to say at all!

***

//Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin.

Wake up!

You can't remember where it was...

Had this dream stopped?\

-"Awake Ghost," by The Doors

***

Forty-five Lampkin Lane is an absolute eyesore. Everyone in Haddonfield agrees: the town would be much better off without the battered, run down house.

But they never tear it down. They never even put the idea up for vote in town hall, because of one simple, undeniable truth:

Forty-five Lampkin Lane is Michael Myers’ home, and no one knows if he would come back and slaughter everyone if they were to take the place down. No one, for obvious reasons, wants to chance it.

Jamie has special memories of this house; she knows it better than most people living in Haddonfield. She knows just how far the laundry chute drops; she knows just how easy the doors can be broken; she knows just what resided in that house for so long, without anyone realizing it until Judith Myers was stabbed to death.

They are sitting in Valerie’s parked truck, and both of them are staring at the creepy old Myers place. The lawn is bare except for weeds and there’s a sign plastered to the boarded up front window:

Caution:

Unsafe Conditions

Do Not Enter

Even the contractors refuse to enter the house. That sign should be behind glass.

“Jamie?”

Jamie jerks in her seat and turns to look at Valerie.

“Are you okay?”

The girl looks back to the house and finds herself wondering...

“I’m... I’m okay. Come on.”

They climb out of the truck and cautiously make their way onto the porch – Valerie is looking for falling beams or crumbling foundations; Jamie is looking for her uncle.

“Jamie, what are you-”

She finds herself pulling the front door open, ignoring Valerie’s small gasp.

The house is dustier than she remembers, and completely bare. There’s dried blood on the floor from when Michael sliced Loomis across the chest... Jamie forces herself to look away and steps rather boldly into the house, wandering to the main foyer and looking around, turning in place and taking it in.

“Y-You know,” Valerie mumbles, “W-With a little paint...”

“This place could be... nice.”

The two grin at each other and Jamie knows now that the house is just a house.

The two wander through the house, and Jamie remembers racing to find a way to get out, when Michael was still chasing her – but now, now it’s just an old house. Michael isn’t here, and Loomis isn’t using her for bait.

There’s a heavy thump and the two whirl in place, looking from the old fireplace to the kitchen.

A white mask gleams in the dim light and the Boogeyman appears, stalking forward with a death grip around a butcher knife.

Valerie screams in real terror, and Jamie chokes on her own breath.

Her eyes narrow and with a strength she didn’t know she had, she storms forward and lands a clean right hook to the Boogeyman’s face, sending him reeling with a loud swear.

She punches him again in the stomach and his exclamation is cut off with a whoosh of air – he falls to his knees.

“You are not my uncle.”

Jamie kicks out, catches him in the jaw, and sends him spiraling into the dust.

She puts a foot on his chest, presses down, and rips off his mask.

Paul’s nose is bloody and she can tell she’s knocked out a tooth.

“J-J-Jesus CHRIST!”

Valerie storms over and kicks Paul between the legs, making him whine and writhe on the dusty floor.

“Are you fucking insane? What the fuck are you doing? What are you, some kind of fucking psycho?”

“He’s not a psycho,” Jamie says evenly, glaring with pure malice at Paul, who is staring at her in fright, “He’s just a silly little boy who thinks it’s funny to tease a girl who can kick his ass.”

He whimpers as she kneels down on his chest, throwing the mask at him. “Thanks, Paul. That felt good.”

She stands, walks to Valerie, and says, “C’mon, Val. Let’s go see if Tina wants to see a movie or something.” Her fists are shaking and she’s trembling now, but she refuses to let that stop her from throwing a dazzling smile back at Paul. “I’ll tell my uncle how much fun you had dressing up like him! I’m so sure he’ll be amused.”

The two girls get halfway to the truck before they start stumbling, grabbing onto each other to keep from falling down as their legs turn to rubber.

“Oh fuck,” Valerie whispers once they’re inside the cab and pulling away from the curb, “He’s gonna be so fucking... I’m gonna fucking kill him.” She then stares at Jamie. “Did you... Did you know that was – that it was just Paul?”

Jamie doesn’t answer for a while, and then she whispers, “No.”

She’s surprised when her friend breaks out into a huge grin. “Do you realize what that means, Jamie?”

“W-What?”

Valerie claps her hands together in excitement and exclaims, “You just laid Michael Myers out!”

Jamie stares at her grinning friend and realizes that, if that had really been her uncle, neither of them would be driving away.

“Yeah,” she says, forcing a grin, “Yeah... I guess it does.”

***

Michael Myers stares out over the heads of worshipers and feels nothing.

He does not know how long he has been chained to the table; he does not know where he is, nor does he know if he’ll ever escape. The chains are tight and the table thick. The voices are chanting, have been forever, and he thinks that maybe, maybe he should give in –

The familiar rage builds in the back of his mind and he fights it off viciously. It will not be the rage that decides when he will give up control – only he can do that!

“Let it in!” they chant.

He will not do what they ask simply because they worship him.

“Michael,” the voice calls, “Do you remember Jamie?”

The crowd hisses in response to the name.

“Do you remember what you must do to her?”

He is silent.

The crowd cheers, “Kill her!”

He wonders where the woman is

***

Jamie stares at her Physics book.

Really, she should be studying something else – she’s been on Physics for four hours now – but she needs a good grade to cement herself in Lafayette’s class of 2002. She needs to study.

Her mind wanders over the last few days. Paul looks horrible, his lip busted up and his nose bruised and swelling, but she had heard him telling his friends that he had simply slipped down some stairs.

“Lucky I didn’t break my neck,” he told them.

That kind of redeems him in her eyes.

Valerie considers their trip to the house a success and spends her time talking about Slayer and Opeth and other bands Jamie doesn’t like, but the girl has cemented her place in Jamie’s heart, once and for all. And, really, the trip has done her good.

Last night, she had talked to Tina for the first time about her book – specifically, the book’s contents. She even asked if, for the next reprint, she could write something for it.

“Of course! They’ve been talking another run, actually. It’s doing good on the charts – can you believe it? Almost nine years later and people are still buying it!”

Jamie does believe it. The book is, after all, being used as required texts for Psychology classes all over the country – hell, even out of the country. She has a copy of it lying under her bed. She’s not ready to read it – not quite yet – but she will be, before too long.

She’s going to leave Haddonfield and go to a place where people won’t automatically associate her with bad things.

She calls it a night and closes her book – if she fails the final tomorrow, it’s not so bad. She can probably worm her way into another college somewhere else. Or, maybe, just spend a year traveling.

She’s always wanted to go to California.

Her bed is warm and inviting and she flops into it comfortably, in her sweats and completely at ease for the first time in forever. Her dreams haven’t even involved her uncle – they’ve been about her showing up to class in her underwear, or about her kissing some nameless guy on a beach.

Normal teenage dreams, she thinks happily, closing her eyes and relaxing.

***

Michael is terrified.

She can feel it even though he’s as blurry and motionless as ever. If she were to rip his mask off right now, he would be screaming.

“I’m coming!”

She reaches out to grab him and then freezes as the voice echoes through the room, talking to Michael.

“Don’t you remember?”

Hisses from the crowd.

“Don’t you remember that you have a mission?”

He stares and is petrified.

“Kill her!” the crowd screams.

His eyes focus – her eyes focus – and he stares at her with blank eyes.

“Kill her!”

Michael tilts his head and his eyes suddenly cry out, It’s you.

“Kill her!”

The voice suddenly snarls, “Michael!” – but her uncle pays it no attention, holding Jamie’s gaze in his own.

“Our savior!”

“He isn’t your savior!” Jamie cries, and the entire room is silent.

Michael is no longer blurry around the edges – he is absolutely clear, completely visible, and she can now see the heads turning to look at her.

“He isn’t a saint!”

She finds herself walking forward, over the heads of hundreds of worshippers.

He is staring and she keeps his gaze.

“He’s a murderer!”

“Murderer,” the crowd whispers in awe.

“A psychopath!”

“Psychopath.”

She finds herself so close to him that she could rip off his mask –

“A demon!”

“Demon!” the crowd roars.

She reaches out, clutches white latex, and pulls.

His mouth is wide and he is screaming

***

Jamie finds herself awake and shrieking.

Tina rushes to her bed and grabs her shoulders, shaking her once. “Jamie!” she cries, “Jamie, what’s wrong?”

She’s sobbing now, and so the older woman pulls her into her arms, smoothing out her hair. “Hon, come on... what happened?”

“I... I... He’s so scared.”

Tina stiffens around Jamie and leans back, holding the girl at arm’s length.

“Who’s scared, honey?”

“M-M-Michael!”

Tina’s eyes widen and she stares at Jamie in shock. “What – What do you mean... Jamie, are you – are you having those dreams again?”

Tina isn’t talking about the ones she’s been having lately. She means the dreams that first brought Michael to Haddonfield, nine years ago. The ones Doctor Loomis wanted to hear. The ones where she was Michael, and he was her.

“N-N-No. Not... Not really.”

“Then... Then what is it, honey? Come on. You can tell me, you know that, right?”

Jamie does know. And so she tells Tina everything she can remember – from this night’s dream, and the dreams before it.

Tina watches her as she cries into her comforter and doesn’t know how to help.

She hasn’t had dreams like that. She’s only had dreams that relived the night – she has that dream all the time. But Jamie’s telling her this – this freaky story, of Myers chained up and scared?

“It... It’s just a dream, honey,” Tina says, unconvincingly.

“I knew you’d say that,” Jamie sniffs, looking up with red-rimmed eyes. “I want them to be just dreams.”

“Jamie... You’ve been under a lot of stress. With finals coming up, and graduation – and you’re starting to move past that whole... night. It’s okay for you to have bad dreams! Hell, I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”

Jamie stares and Tina looks away.

And then, Tina’s little girl says something that scares her to death.

“After graduation... I’m going to see him.”

Tina turns back and gazes at Jamie fearfully.

“Jamie... you – you can’t just go see him... he’s...”

“I have to know. That he’s...”

Don’t say okay, Tina prays, Please don’t say okay...

“That he’s not coming back.”

She exhales loudly and looks at Jamie for a while.

“Are... Are you sure?”

“Tina – I have to. I got over the house by going there with Val – we went there a few days ago,” she tells the stricken woman, “We went and one of the boys tried to scare us, dressing up like M-Michael-”

“Oh my God-!”

“But I kicked his ass, Tina!” Jamie exclaims, “I thought he was – and I still knocked him down! I need to see him, for real. I need to... to get rid of this. I can’t keep... looking over my shoulder. I can’t keep having these dreams.”

“Jamie... if you’re... If you’re sure. If you’re really going – I’m not going to stop you.”

Jamie sighs in relief. “Thank you, Tina.”

“I’m going with you.”

Jamie gasps and stares at Tina, “What – no, you can’t-!”

“I am coming with you, Jamie Lloyd. You’re not the only one who wants to get over this.”

The two stare at each other and then, finally, Jamie nods.

“All right. Okay. We’re going.”

“After graduation.”

“During summer.”

“Okay.”

They sit there in silence for a while longer, both dreading their new plan

***

June fourteenth is a warm, mild day in Haddonfield – perfect weather for the graduation ceremony taking place at Haddonfield High.

Jamie sits next to Valerie, who has blown off the seating assignments to sit next to her, and smiles as the last few seniors are called. This is it.

Freedom.

They all throw their hats at the end of the ceremony, as is tradition, but the only one to get back their own hat is Jamie.

Paul is holding out to her, smiling kind of awkwardly. Valerie is on edge but Jamie smiles back, taking her hat and placing it as easily on her head as she can, considering the awkward design.

“Nice... pumpkin,” the boy says weakly, pointing to the little pumpkin pin on the end of her tassel. She had put it there herself, as a way to metaphorically pin her post-graduation plans to herself.

“...Thanks,” she responds, trying to be calm but finding herself ready to hit him. He’s still an asshole, she thinks.

“I... Um. I’m...” He rubs the back of his head and then says, loud enough so that the people around them can hear, “I’m really sorry. For, you know... being such a dick. It was... I’m really sorry.”

Valerie is glaring at him and so he adds, “And I’m sorry that I said all that stuff in class. About you and... well. I mean, I’m sorry.”

Jamie crosses her arms. “I could have killed you,” she finally says. “I thought you were – I didn’t realize you weren’t him. I could have killed you.”

“I... I know. That’s why... Um. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like – I mean. I’m just sorry. I was trying to... be an asshole.”

“Paul!”

The boy looks over his shoulder to see a group of girls waving him over, and he looks back at the two in front of him, fingers twitching along the rim of his cap.

“I’m not forgiving you,” Jamie snaps, feeling as though the other is waiting for something.

“What – no! I don’t... I don’t want you – well, I do want you to forgive me. But I know you won’t. Not now, anyways. Maybe later. I’ll...”

“Paul!”

“Go to your groupies,” Valerie says, “Quit while you still have something to say.”

Paul winces and backs away.

“I’m sorry, Jamie.”

He turns and heads over to his friends, bright and smiling.

Jamie and Valerie exchange looks.

“Yeah, right,” Jamie finally grins, and together they go to find Tina.

***

That woman is his niece.

Michael stares through the dark and tries to see – is she still there? He can’t tell. She disappeared so suddenly.

The new chant is echoing through the dark:

“Murderer, psychopath, demon!”

“Do you see now, Michael?” the voice asks, “Do you see now? She doesn’t love you, like Judith did.”

Hisses.

“She calls you a murderer.”

“Murderer!”

“A psychopath.”

“Psychopath!”

“She even called you a demon, Michael.”

The crowd shouts.

Michael stares and hopes to catch some glimpse of her. Hopes that he can find out if she was telling the truth.

Was he really a murderer?

He had killed many people. By definition, he assumes, he would be a murderer.

A psychopath?

He doesn’t know what a psychopath is. Not really. They use that word... all the time. He never understands its meaning.

Was he really a demon?

“Demon!”

Michael hopes that she will come back, to perhaps give them something new to chant... because the accusations they are throwing are making him... angry.

***