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Leatherface vs. Michael Myers Part 1
By Thomas Hewitt
October 30, 2003
Sherry Myers stepped out of her car and onto the street. The trees had lost all their leaves and the weather was chilly. She knew the next day was Halloween, so she bought candy for the neighborhood children. Her house was small, but not too cramped. She liked it.
The click of the door unlocking broke the silence of the quiet street. The house was dark inside, she couldn’t see with out the lights on. She clicked them on. The house was decorated with pictures on the walls, small knick-knacks and different plants. The kitchen seemed large once you were inside of it. The living room had a 32 inch TV and a photon sofa directly across from it. Not much to it. She walked into the kitchen and had a glass of water. She had a head ace, maybe even a migraine, as bad as it felt. She walked down a short hallway that leads to her bedroom, a spare bedroom and a bathroom. She walked into the bathroom and faced the mirror. She bent down and turned the faucet on, splashing water in her face she stood back up. In the mirror behind her, stood a man. Her only instance was to scream. She turned to see him raise a long bladed knife into the air. He wore a blue jumpsuit and a white mask. Her screams echoed through the small house and into the quiet street. He brought the knife down upon her and…
She awoke. Another dream. Another dream about her cousin, Michael. She was sweating, this time, bad. The covers were soaked and the pillow felt like a wet sponge. She looked at her alarm clock. 12:34 A.M. October 31. She needed to sleep, she had work in the morning.
October 31, 2003
Leatherface had been driving the black truck a while. He was afraid he would get caught with this car, so he needed to find a new one. He had just killed again, he knew he shouldn’t have. He had to stop, but an urge, a terrible, terrible urge drove him to the point, the point to kill. He could not stop it, as hard as he tried. No one could help him. His family was dead, pretty much all of them. He had no one. No one to help him. She drove through a red light without noticing. Behind him red and blue lights blared. A cop. He couldn’t get caught. Leatherface looked at his chainsaw next to him. He had a decision; death or the saw.
The cop ran the plates. It was a stolen vehicle. He had caught the Cross-Country Carjacker! He was a deputy, a newbie, a rookie, how ever you wanted to put it. He knew if he had brought in this guy, everyone at the station would love him. He didn’t know if it was the Carjacker, but his odds were with him. He stepped out of the car, pulled his gun out of the holster and yelled, “Get out of the truck!” Nothing. The deputy walked slowly to the truck, but the windows were so tinted the deputy couldn’t see inside. He needed to take a brave chance. The deputy grabbed the handle and threw the door open. The last thing he remembered was the terrible sound of a chainsaw, and the jagged teeth tearing into his chest.
Leatherface had killed the cop. He did it! Leatherface killed the chainsaw and started the truck. It was almost nightfall, and he needed to leave. He had remembered a sign he had saw. It said Haddonfield 30 miles.
Sherry knew a party at Dan’s house was safe. After all, he was her boyfriend. Her and her two friends, Michel and Kelly, walked up to the house. Through the windows, she could see a number of people dancing, drinking and having fun. She was going to be fine. The three walked into the house. The smell of malt liquor and incense lingered in the air. The lights in the living room were replaced with red lights, and the furniture was all pushed against the wall. There were about twenty to thirty people. The three girls made there way through the drunken crowd of partiers and into the kitchen. On the table, an assortment of drugs laid out; anywhere from ecstasy to coke to marijuana. Two kegs were set on the counters and the fridge was full of wine coolers and cans of beer.
Kelly grabbed a joint of the table and looked at her friends. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be out in a short.”
Sherry sighed. She knew if anyone got in a car crash or in trouble, the cops would trail it to the party. She turned to the living room. That was when Dan bumped into her. He smelled of, well, to her surprise, nothing.
“How much have you drank?” she asked.
“Hardly any, hun. I know how much you hate it when I get drunk. Now, how about a dance?” he asked.
She smiled. “Sure.”
He took her hand in his and he led her into the living room.
Outside of the house, a man stood, watching. He held a long bladed knife in one hand, and a white mask in the other. She slipped the white mask on over his head. In slow strides, he made his way around the house.
Leatherface was almost into Haddonfield. There, he would find a place to stay. He hadn’t slept in days and need needed to. Then, in the morning, he would travel once more.
8/27/2004 10:07:09 PM
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