Prologue

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You sighed, as your door slammed shut, announcing your presence in the new home. The lights were out, and the house was in... decent condition? It could be better, but you supposed it wasn't the worst for the low price you'd bought it for. You were 19, just leaving the nest and moving into your own home in Haddonfield, a town only an hour or two away from your parents. Having little money and almost minimum work experience, you couldn't afford anything great, but you were surprised you ended up finding the place that you did. It was called the 'Myer's house', or at least that's what the people of the town had named it. You knew why they called it that, knowing enough about the legend of Michael Myers to be cautious and a little bit worried, at least at first. You didn't know know the story, at least not enough to write novels and novels about it like some of the people in this town probably could, but you knew enough. You shake your head and return to your house. The lightbulbs are most likely burned out or at least close, theres a thick film of dust over all the pre-existing furniture (which there was very little of; counters, a couch and an oven and fridge, by what you could see from the door) and a spiderweb or two here and there. It would take time to fix this place up, but that would be okay. It would keep your mind off the thoughts of moving into the house of an infamous killer, said to roam the town and kill those who tried to take his home. You tried to tell yourself that was all silly tales, but you knew the people of this town weren't superstitious or anything of the sort. It was unnerving, to say the least, but you'd be alright. Keep telling yourself that and it has to come true.

    You take a step further into your house, setting down the large cardboard box of belongings you had carried in. There was more in your moving truck, which should be here any minute now. You were grateful your parents, who were fairly wealthy, had offered to rent one for you. Your flimsy little noodle arms would do very little, and your small car wouldn't hold much either. You took a deep breath; despite the dust you inhaled, and soon after coughed back out, the air in the house was fresh and clean, with the faint scent of maple and crisp autumn leaves. You'd seen pictures of the house, but they were of poor quality, with dark shots and bad angles, but the house was oddly beautiful, in some creepy sort of way. You were always into horror, and thriller, and any films with gore, really. You knew some people grew sick at the sight of blood, but you weren't one of them. Slowly walking through your house, you examine the layout, better than you had seen it through video calls with the landlord. The darkening, red autumn sunlight filtered through the grimy windows, making the place seem somewhat abandoned. After a quick walk through, you grabbed the broom and decided to tidy up before the movers got there, at least a little. Quickly, you swept away the dust on the floor, and brushed off the window sills and countertops. The paint on the walls was a little chipped away, but you could paint of the spots sooner or later; for now you didn't mind the old look. You heard a honk from outside, and raced to the door, knowing the movers were there. You swung the door open quickly, and the big truck sat parallel to the sidewalk, the back already opened with the movers taking large furniture towards your home. You stepped outside and out of the way, nodding your head in greeting as they swiftly got to work. You sat with your arms leaning on the railing of your porch, examining the houses all around you. You tensed, narrowing your eyes as you peered into the shadows concealing the small 'alley' between two houses. You swore you saw something move within it, but rolled your eyes at how silly you were being.

    The night dragged on slowly as you enjoyed the cooling night air, the movers doing all of the work for you. At last, the sun set, and the movers packed up and chugged away in their big trucks. You turned back to your house, shutting the door and locking it behind you with a huff. Your furniture was arranged messily, the movers placing the respective items in the rooms they belonged in, but not arranged exactly how you'd liked them. You were tired, but not so tired you couldn't do some rearranging. You shifted the couch further back, all the way against the wall, and shifted the rug and coffee table, moving around the dining table slightly, and so on, until you were generally satisfied. You still had boxes of books, plates, and stuff alike scattered around, but you could get to that tomorrow. Already, your house was growing nicer and nicer. You think you'd like it here. You turned, hurrying up the stairs and plopping down onto your bed with a sigh, not bothering to change into pajamas; they were clearly boxed away, hidden somewhere for you to discover later. You curled deeply into your blankets, reviewing the day's progress. You'd done quite a bit, though you still had plenty to do, and only two days to do it before you had to go to work. You'd managed to pick up a job at a local flower shop. You'd always loved flowers, and plants in general, so you jumped at the opportunity shown to you by your landlord. He was a nice old man who lived across town, as far from the 'cursed' property as possible. You chuckled quietly. Cursed... yeah right. You flipped over to face your left side, and closed your eyes. The people in this town were ridiculous. No way that Micahel Myers was still angry about people living in 'his' house. He'd obviously moved on; it was just a house, after all. You fall asleep to the false security you clung onto for dear life. You thought everything the townsfolk were saying was bullshit, yet you failed to notice the silhouette of the beast watching over you as you slept.

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