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an open letter to michael myers

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How does Samuels’ view of fate differ from that of Costaine’s? Halloween (1978) | dir. John Carpenter

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“Michael?”

Halloween (1978), Dir. John Carpenter

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does he have any living relatives?

after the car accident that killed strode, just a niece living in its hometown.

and? 

and? what do you care anyway? she’s too young to be its legal ward. 

those words had been all the shape needed to hear to rouse him from his long rest. you spend enough time playing dead and the world around you starts to believe it, but the shape has been anything but docile and comatose. no, never docile. just waiting, waiting and healing. six bullets and the explosion at the hospital hadn’t been enough to stop him, and neither is the long trek to haddonfield, even upon finding loomis on the way. cynthia may have changed jamie’s last name to lloyd, as far away from myers as possible, but the shape knows better than that. seems to feel jamie’s heart, finding it pathetically easy to track her location to her elementary school. he knows the town like the back of his own hand and finds his way through the back door of the pharmacy he’d taken his mask from long ago. 

when he finds the mask that calls to him most, stark white and so similar to the blankness he thinks he feels if he feels anything at all, he finds jamie lloyd. and, instead of killing her like he’d wanted to, he sees himself in her, in the clown costume in her hand.  he finds that he can’t kill her, and does the next thing that comes to mind. 

the shape hefts little jamie into his arms and takes her to his van, ignoring the screams and protest of her foster sister, quickly driving off.  the child locks prevent little jamie from kicking out of the car while it’s in drive and michael doesn’t stop, not until they’re outside of haddonfield.  

when jamie gets quiet, too quiet, he looks up to find she’s still awake in the backseat, looking at him with eyes black like his own. he reaches for the thermos of apple juice in the passenger seat,  laced with the extra thorazine he’d stolen from smith’s grove under which he’s spent most of his life in a catatonic haze, and offers it her way, unsure of how to handle her crying or her, in general. 

it’s been many, many years since he was a child like little jamie, but thinks he feels something like nurture. it’s an odd twinge in his chest, unfamiliar, but for the first time in as long as he can remember, he doesn’t like the way jamie stares at him in fear.  / @evilineage

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A burning hill // Mitski

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A good happy family with Laurie and all of the Strode kids and their uncle Mikey.

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Danielle Harris as Jamie Lloyd in HALLOWEEN 4: THE RETURN OF MICHAEL MYERS (1988) dir. Dwight H. Little

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guestlectured‌.

“Hi, Michael.”

It’s not just Loomis—fucking Loomis—who treats Michael Myers’ room like a lion’s den. The staff don’t want to approach the door if they don’t have to, casting nervous glances inside, whispering.

Alana’s read his file cover to cover, three times. She still sees a big, awkward eight year old, fidgeting with his hands and staring, unfocused, into middle distance. She’s been promised, with no shortage of fearmongering about it, that he should be “lucid”, but that doesn’t change the fact that this little boy’s spent the last two years on a dose of chlorpromazine so excessive in a pediatric case that she’d thought it was a typo when she’d first read the numbers. She offers a friendly smile.

“I’m Dr. Alana Bloom.” All the furniture in his room is bolted to the floor. She sits down in the small chair, pulling a pad of paper and a 16-color box of crayons out of her bag and holding them out to Michael. He’d been reading and writing relatively well in first grade, so given that no one has attempted any alternative form of communication with him, this is the best thing she could think of. “I know you don’t like to talk, but if there’s anything you want to say, do you think you could write it down? Drawing pictures is fine, too. Whichever you like.”

michael doesn’t think he’s colored since his mother last came to visit -- a long time, months and months now. he doesn’t keep track of days and doesn’t have to, with his days full of dr. loomis’ voice and nurses chattering about him. the only thing he thinks of is cynthia, in her crib, how old she’d be now. 

but the pretty dark-haired psychiatrist -- smaller and frailer than judy had been, he knows that for certain too -- gets his attention. he’s not used to hearing his name so he stares at her from his chair adjacent to her. the nurses don’t keep him shackled down, deeming the chlorpromazine sufficient enough sedative despite dr. loomis’ protests, so he’s free to put his hands up and do what he pleases. 

michael cocks his head, curious, contemplating.

and he reaches a lithe hand out to grab a yellow crayon to get to work on drawing cynthia and all of her sun-yellow hair like his mother’s and his own. his ears stay perked, cautious and taken in by dr. bloom already. he pushes the drawing back to her once it’s finished, a crude figure of baby cynthia and a taller stick figure of judy with it, and cocks his head once more, expression unreadable. 

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Halloween H20: 20 Years Later (1998)

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Halloween II (1981) | dir. Rick Rosenthal

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LIKE THIS FOR A STARTER PLEASE!

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These eyes will deceive you.  They will destroy you.  They will take from you your innocence, your pride, and eventually your soul.  These eyes do not see what you and I see.  Behind these eyes one finds only blackness… the absence of light.

Halloween (2007) dir. Rob Zombie

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Myers family home video. 

Halloween Resurrection (2002)