Halloween 9; The Veil between the worlds
folder
G through L › Halloween (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,545
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Halloween (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,545
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Halloween movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
4
It couldn’t be.
But it was.
She was sitting there, sitting at the dresser with her back to him, combing her hair. Just as on the night he had killed her. He gazed at her, unable to comprehend the impossibility of what he was seeing. But she was there, his sister, Judith, as if nothing had ever happened.
He paused in uncertainty, stunned. But he knew what to do. His choice was an easy one.
He crossed the room in 3 silent strides, angling himself so she couldn’t see him approach in the mirror. He took the butchers’ knife from his pocket and raised to strike.
“Didn’t really think you’d killed me did you Michael?”
He froze again, taking a moment to place the voice. Her wig fell away as she turned and he found himself gazing into Laurie’s eyes.
He brought the knife down. There was no hesitation.
She caught it, the blade slicing right through the palm of her hand as she stretched it out before her. She closed her hand into a fist, trapping the knife as Michael tried to free it.
She snapped the blade in two.
Impossible.
He reeled back, deafened as the first of the bullet’s struck him, big, powerful .44 Magnum explosive dum-dums, tipped with fulminate mercury so that they expanded on impact, shredding flesh and bone as they penetrated, generating gaping fist sized wounds that no surgeon could ever hope to repair.
He went down.
Click.
The hammer went forward onto an empty cylinder. She opened her revolver and ejected the spent rounds. It was difficult, the metal slick with her blood. She could still use her hand but it hurt, how it hurt.
But she had lived with pain for such a long time.
He got up again.
She slammed another speedloader of six more bullets into place and instantly emptied them into him. He staggered under their imapct, raising his arm before him in a defensive gesture to protect his head. She wondered how many of his victims had done the same?
Click.
She reached for her third speedloader.
He threw the shattered remains of the butcher’s knife at her, striking her in the throat. Instinctively she dropped the gun and the fresh rounds, both clattering to the floor.
No bullet would ever kill him.
She reached up and pulled the knife from her throat. Blood spurted out in torrents but she remained standing. She didn’t know how.
It was impossible. Why wasn’t she dead? Was wasn’t she lying on the floor in her own blood writhing in her death throes? How was she still standing?
He lurched towards her, hands outstretched. He would snap her neck, wrench her very head from her shoulders, tear it from her spinal column.
His hand stopped an inch from her face, his progress halted by the US Marine Corps Kar-Bar fighting knife impacting on his chest. He looked down at it in shock then back up at her. She stared him right back in the eye as she turned the knife in the wound….
He screamed.
Screamed like so many of his prey, in pain and terror.
He reached down and snapped her wrist, tottering backwards for a few steps as he reached in and drew the knife from his own chest. He reversed it in his hand and lurched towards her.
She came up with the axe from the dresser
TBC
But it was.
She was sitting there, sitting at the dresser with her back to him, combing her hair. Just as on the night he had killed her. He gazed at her, unable to comprehend the impossibility of what he was seeing. But she was there, his sister, Judith, as if nothing had ever happened.
He paused in uncertainty, stunned. But he knew what to do. His choice was an easy one.
He crossed the room in 3 silent strides, angling himself so she couldn’t see him approach in the mirror. He took the butchers’ knife from his pocket and raised to strike.
“Didn’t really think you’d killed me did you Michael?”
He froze again, taking a moment to place the voice. Her wig fell away as she turned and he found himself gazing into Laurie’s eyes.
He brought the knife down. There was no hesitation.
She caught it, the blade slicing right through the palm of her hand as she stretched it out before her. She closed her hand into a fist, trapping the knife as Michael tried to free it.
She snapped the blade in two.
Impossible.
He reeled back, deafened as the first of the bullet’s struck him, big, powerful .44 Magnum explosive dum-dums, tipped with fulminate mercury so that they expanded on impact, shredding flesh and bone as they penetrated, generating gaping fist sized wounds that no surgeon could ever hope to repair.
He went down.
Click.
The hammer went forward onto an empty cylinder. She opened her revolver and ejected the spent rounds. It was difficult, the metal slick with her blood. She could still use her hand but it hurt, how it hurt.
But she had lived with pain for such a long time.
He got up again.
She slammed another speedloader of six more bullets into place and instantly emptied them into him. He staggered under their imapct, raising his arm before him in a defensive gesture to protect his head. She wondered how many of his victims had done the same?
Click.
She reached for her third speedloader.
He threw the shattered remains of the butcher’s knife at her, striking her in the throat. Instinctively she dropped the gun and the fresh rounds, both clattering to the floor.
No bullet would ever kill him.
She reached up and pulled the knife from her throat. Blood spurted out in torrents but she remained standing. She didn’t know how.
It was impossible. Why wasn’t she dead? Was wasn’t she lying on the floor in her own blood writhing in her death throes? How was she still standing?
He lurched towards her, hands outstretched. He would snap her neck, wrench her very head from her shoulders, tear it from her spinal column.
His hand stopped an inch from her face, his progress halted by the US Marine Corps Kar-Bar fighting knife impacting on his chest. He looked down at it in shock then back up at her. She stared him right back in the eye as she turned the knife in the wound….
He screamed.
Screamed like so many of his prey, in pain and terror.
He reached down and snapped her wrist, tottering backwards for a few steps as he reached in and drew the knife from his own chest. He reversed it in his hand and lurched towards her.
She came up with the axe from the dresser
TBC