Halloween 9; The Veil between the worlds
folder
G through L › Halloween (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,546
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Halloween (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,546
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.
The Blooding
Then she was hacking, hacking and cutting, feeling the thud of the axe impact on flesh and bone, the warm sticky blood showering her, straining her muscles as she put 20 years of hatred and fear into every single blow. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, scarcely comprehending what she was saying.
“IT’S OVER MICHAEL! IT’S OVER! IT ENDS HERE! IT ENDS TONIGHT!”
.He staggered backwards under the flurry if blows, He reeled, he buckled, trying to stab her but unable to get close enough….
He caught the axe in his hand.
He broke the shaft in two.
He swung the head at her, intent on cleaving her head from her shoulders…
She came up with a bottle from the dresser.
A bottle?
It shattered at his feet a moment before the flames from the petrol bomb consumed him.
NO! NOT THE FIRE! ANYTHING BUT THE FIRE! NOT AGAIN!
He felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the night of his deliverance.
Fear.
He rolled on the floor, dropping the knife, suffocating the flames. Laurie recovered the axe head and tried to use it against him but couldn’t find the opportunity to strike. He kicked her away, sending her flying across the room, smashing her halfway through the wall.
He smothered the flames out but the rest of the room was already beginning to burn. Over the crackle of the growing fire he began to hear another noise.
Sirens.
He couldn’t fight them, not them all. They would be coming in vast, limitless numbers. He was wounded, hurting. He needed time to heal, needed time to conceal himself, the daylight outside already raw and growing. Laurie could wait. If she survived the fire he would find her again. Find her and be prepared next time. He would always find her.
He staggered to his feet and stumbled towards the window through the smoke, groping his way, half blinded by the smoke and his own blood running into his eyes.
The shots tore through the gloom as Laurie found her gun, the muzzle-flash piercing the rising cloud of smoke like a vivid star. Somehow he kept himself on his feet as the rounds slammed into him. She was trying to delay him, slow him down, make him stay and fight when all he wanted to do was get away. Keep him there until the house burned down around them, the phalanx of police outside trapping him within. Forcing him to choose between immolation and their massed firepower.
Stay and burn.
Or face their guns. Face them as he had always avoided doing. Head on, en masse and in daylight, safely outside his striking distance.
No.
He wouldn’t play her game. He’d make her play his. The game would always be his.
She erupted from the darkness, tackling him to the floor, the frenzied pair clawing and flailing at one another.
She leaned close to him, whispering in his ear as they fought.
“It ends here. We burn together!”
NOOOOOOOO!
“IT’S OVER MICHAEL! IT’S OVER! IT ENDS HERE! IT ENDS TONIGHT!”
.He staggered backwards under the flurry if blows, He reeled, he buckled, trying to stab her but unable to get close enough….
He caught the axe in his hand.
He broke the shaft in two.
He swung the head at her, intent on cleaving her head from her shoulders…
She came up with a bottle from the dresser.
A bottle?
It shattered at his feet a moment before the flames from the petrol bomb consumed him.
NO! NOT THE FIRE! ANYTHING BUT THE FIRE! NOT AGAIN!
He felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the night of his deliverance.
Fear.
He rolled on the floor, dropping the knife, suffocating the flames. Laurie recovered the axe head and tried to use it against him but couldn’t find the opportunity to strike. He kicked her away, sending her flying across the room, smashing her halfway through the wall.
He smothered the flames out but the rest of the room was already beginning to burn. Over the crackle of the growing fire he began to hear another noise.
Sirens.
He couldn’t fight them, not them all. They would be coming in vast, limitless numbers. He was wounded, hurting. He needed time to heal, needed time to conceal himself, the daylight outside already raw and growing. Laurie could wait. If she survived the fire he would find her again. Find her and be prepared next time. He would always find her.
He staggered to his feet and stumbled towards the window through the smoke, groping his way, half blinded by the smoke and his own blood running into his eyes.
The shots tore through the gloom as Laurie found her gun, the muzzle-flash piercing the rising cloud of smoke like a vivid star. Somehow he kept himself on his feet as the rounds slammed into him. She was trying to delay him, slow him down, make him stay and fight when all he wanted to do was get away. Keep him there until the house burned down around them, the phalanx of police outside trapping him within. Forcing him to choose between immolation and their massed firepower.
Stay and burn.
Or face their guns. Face them as he had always avoided doing. Head on, en masse and in daylight, safely outside his striking distance.
No.
He wouldn’t play her game. He’d make her play his. The game would always be his.
She erupted from the darkness, tackling him to the floor, the frenzied pair clawing and flailing at one another.
She leaned close to him, whispering in his ear as they fought.
“It ends here. We burn together!”
NOOOOOOOO!