I woke up feeling strange.
My whole body was throbbing painfully, accompanied by a sharp pain in my right shoulder.
Everything that had happened came back to me in a flash, and I opened my eyes instantly, shooting up into a sitting position.
My body throbbed in protest, but I didn't give it any mind, instead looking around. Red carpeted walls enclosed the small-ish room, the bed I was lying on perfectly made, lacking covers. Red curtains lined the windows, and there was a desk, a nightstand, and a small wooden closet.
It looked like a hotel.
I got up to my feet, ispecting my bandaged shoulder. It was bandaged a bit too tightly, but otherwise not bleeding. As I got up, I stepped onto something sharp and slippery. I moved my foot away quickly, thinking it was a knife. But it turned out to be a pistol bulled and a small pool of dry blood. Was it my bullet?
Where was Michael? Where was Loomis? Laurie? Where was I?
As if he heard my thoughts, Michael's head suddenly popped into the window. He got through comfortably, and I noticed that he was bloodier than usual. His blue onesie was even dirtier than ever, and there seemed to be a fresh bulletgole on his chest.
"What happened? Where are we? Where's Loomis? Where's Laurie?" I asked one question after another while Mikey was busy piercing my injured shoulder with his gaze. A sense of gratitude overcame me when I remembered that he saved me and got the bullet out...
"And you're welcome for saving you from that maniac, Loomis! I totally sacrificed myself for you," I added smugly. Mikey rolled his bright blue eyes, and then nodded towards the window.
I looked out and saw that we had a view of a parking place next to the big grocery store in the town centre. We were on the ground floor.
"So, the hotel. We broke into here, I'm guessing?" I asked, looking over at Michael. He nodded, pacing around the room impatiently.
"Did you kill Laurie?" an annoyed shaking of his head, followed by a relieved sigh from me. Followed by an angry stomp from him, and his footsteps approaching me quickly.
I stood my ground as he stomp we towards me, standing mere inches away. But I knew he wasn't angry at me.
Swiftly, he rumbled around his pockets and pulled out a photograph. He showed it to me, keeping it out of reach as if I was going to steal it.
On the picture was a small boy with a bright smile holding a baby.
"Okay, what of it?" I asked cluelessly, and Michael sighed. He rarely sighed.
He pointed with a bloody finger at the baby.
Then it dawned on me.
"You found Laurie's baby pictures?"
He facepalmed and turned away from me, waving me off when I tried to ask what I did wrong.
He ignored all my attempts to communicate as he pulled out more stuff from his pockets - a paper chocolate wrapper and a pencil. I shut up when I realised what he was going to do.
"Why didn't you think of doing this earlier?" I interrupted, but he ignored my question and furiously scribbled something onto the wrapper, then thrust it at me. I took it from him, ignoring the sensation of our fingers brushing.
There, in hurried but yet neat handwriting ir said: Laurie is my sister.
"Oh. Yeah, okay. But why would you want to kill her?" He took the paper from me again, turned it around, and scribbled two words: Thorn curse.
"Thorn curse? What's that?" As soon as I uttered those words, there was a knock on the door.
"Hello? Excuse me? This room is supposed to be empty!" a woman's voice sounded through. I shared a look with Michael before we both dashed towards the open window. I managed to squish in in front of him, quickly vaulting through and nearly falling upon my awkward landing.
Michael landed next to me, a lot quieter and more graceful than I.
"So where do we go now? No doubt they're looking for you. Us," I said. Michael brought his finger to his masked lips and showed me to shush. If he spoke, he would've told me to shut the fuck up.
I wasn't sure why he kept putting up with me. I wouldn't put up with me.
I kept quiet as I followed him around the back of the hotel. We were out in broad daylight...
"Michael, we can't go on like this. It's day, they'll see us," I whispered as we found cover next to some trashcans, our backs pressed to the brick wall.
He just shrugged. What did I expect?
"You can put on a different mask. Change clothes. Be less... suspicious," I offered. He seemed to debate it, then finally nodded. I grinned.
"Great. We just need money, I have thirty cents," I said. Michael rolled his eyes, dug into his pockets and pulled out fifty dollars. I grinned.
"Perfect. What colour shirt you want? I think pink would suit you," I joked. He gazed at me in slight annoyance before nodding at me to go already. I knew he probably didn't care as long as I got him something to cover his face.
There was a general store across the street. I just needed to get there without attracting too much attention, which was difficult with blood all over my clothes and a bullet wound.
I quickly scrubbed my face with my hands as I walked away from the hotel and towards the main street. I stopped at the corner and looked around.
Luckily, there were no people around, likely wary of the killer on the loose.
I glanced left and right to check for incoming traffic before I sprinted across the road. I slowed down to a quick walk and pushed the door to the store open, walking in and quickly hidinfmy body between the rows of clothes on display.
"Good morning!" I greeted the shopkeep, who was, luckily, not interested in me in the least and busy reading his magazine. He didn't even glance up at me.
I began searching quickly, picking up jeans and a plain black shirt for myself. Loomis knew my face, and I wasn't sure what to do about that.
I moved to the men's section after putting on my new outfit. The shopkeep wouldn't notice anything wrong if I stole it. My old bloody rags were left on the floor to rot.
I got a pair of blue jeans that seemed like they could fit him. Then, I moved to the shirts section. Sadly, they didn't have any pink shirts, so I got him a plain black one as well. I just hoped he'd fit into it...
Replacing his mask was a much tougher choice. He seemed connected to the thing, so I doubted he'd even want a different one.
Finally, I decided to get us both some black bandanas. It was least inconspicuous than masks...
I approached the register with my hands full of my new treasure. The clerk hardly even glanced my way as he scanned the items, and I got thirty dollars in change, which I pocketed.
A bit of the bandage was still sticking out under my sleeve, but it was better than before. I quickly ran back across the the streets, around the corner and naturally, bumped right into Michael.
"You're really invisible although you're super obvious," I commented as I massaged my nose, opening the bag and thrusting him the clothes before putting on my bandana above the nose.
"How do I look?" I asked. Michael gave me a thumbs down, so I gave him the finger.
He gave the clothes I had given him a thorough look before nodding lightly. Then, he disappeared behind the trashcans and reappeared again after several minutes as a new man.
He pulled the bandana up over his nose, and since his hair was up to his shoulders, the rest easily covered the top of his face, leaving only his bright blue eyes to be seen. The shirt I got him seemed to be slightly too tight, which I didn't mind at all, as it showed off perfectly sculped muscles. When did he even get to work out?
I managed to tear my gaze away from his biceps to see that he was looking completely smug.
So I gave him a thumbs down, and he gave me the finger.
"What are we supposed to do now?" I asked after the realisation that I was a wanted criminal hit me. I had finally established a normal life, away from my deranged family, a clena slate in Haddonfield with a clear, plausible future...
And it was all gone in a single evening.
"That remind me, Mikey, what's the thorn curse? You got a thorn stuck in your toe or something?" I asked, staring at his arms involuntarily. I should've picked a looser shirt. No, I was being a total creep. But I couldn't help the fact he looked good!
A deranged serial killer looking good. Maybe Loomis was right and I did need therapy. But he also needed some, since he just shot me. The wound still hurt whenever I moved my arm, but it luckily seemed just to have grazed my shoulder.
Michael began writing something on the last clear part of the paper.
"You'll see," I read out loud, shooting him a sceptical look.
"Seriously? So I have to follow you around and I can't even get a good answer?" I asked. I was glad that I could be annoying, as he seemed to be a lot calmer than before. I mean, it was only natural he was nervous and murdery on Halloween. But now we were on the run and he had to discard his favourite clothes. And was moving around without a mask.
Despite that, he didn't look any more human than before. Loomis would have still called him 'it'. Michael was more than a human. Maybe the thorn curse was an actual thing.
He shot me an annoyed glance when he noticed me inspecting him. I snickered.
"Just wonderin' about the thorn curse. Why are you so calm now?" I asked. Michael simply shrugged and stopped paying me any attention, instead walking towards the main road. I sighed and followed him, seeing that he wouldn't wait.
We both knew that things would get ugly if I stayed - I would've been found.
And, just as our luck had been up until that point, a police car was rolling towards us on the main road. Michael tensed and seemed like he was about to run up to the car, flip it over and kill everyone inside.
"No. He doesn't know it's us. It would be suspicious if we did anything rash. We gotta keep low, don't worry."
I put my hands on my hips as the car came to a halt in front of us. Inside was, of course, the sherif.
"You two shouldn't be wondering around now. Didn't you hear what happened?" he asked, luckily not bringing up the bandanas around our faces.
"What happened? All I remember is drinking and a huge hangover the morning after," I said with a raised eyebrow. He shot me a sad smile. Wasn't Annie his daughter?
"There's a serial killer on the loose. White mask, dark clothes. Has an accomplice. I'm going to the hospital, you two need a lift?"
I opened my mouth to politely decline, but Michael pushed past me, giving me the sherif a nod. I shrugged, "Sure, thank you."
Michaels opened the door and I squeezed in first. He followed, somehow managing to to fit with out hitting the his head.
"I haven't seen you two around town before. What's your names?"
"Ah, we moved just a couple of months ago. Kay and James Charlson," I lied. Michael was too busy staring out of the window to even nod.
"Ah, I'm sorry your first impression had to be so... grim. The bastard that did this will be caught, and will pay for it. I won't let him, or his accomplice, get away. I'm always on the lookout," he said seriously, and I barely contained a laugh. The irony...
I nodded solemnly and then got lost in my thoughts. Why were we going to the hospital? What was the thorn curse? Why was Mikey so calm?
I had a terrible feeling it was a calm before the storm. He was definitely up to something. Back at Smith's Grove, he wasn't going around and killing everyone, but he was still aggressive. Constantly stalking, surveying, hunting.
He was definitely following a trail.
Laurie.
We were following Laurie.