Bones for the Magpie

Part Two : Chapter Three

  The man adorned in black rose from the ground. He had been crouched beside a body for a short while, digging inside their ripped open chest, feeling the person's ribcage for a small bone. The man was burnt on his left side, the smell of singed latex and burned skin flooded his nostrils and he felt warm, despite the cold October night. He just had an encounter with Laurie Strode, but both managed to escape each other and both suffered severe wounds. He lost the last two fingers on his left hand. It burned and pulsated but the blood that stained his wrists was cold. He ripped the rib from its socket, examined it for a minute and broke it in half. He took the shortest and most jagged end and dropped the other. He tilted his head to look at the blackened sky and slipped the bone under the latex that shielded his face and the old collar that protected his neck. He pushed the sharp and broken end of the bone into the leather of the collar with enough force to break through the material, and continued to push until it went through the mask. He took a heavy breath, looked straight ahead and stood there, basking in his new trophy. Michael Myers claimed another victim. His dripping hands created a trail in the grass, though it was too dark to see anything other than the near-black, recently cut blades. He went to the nearest house, one of their doors unlocked, and he entered.

He crept into their bathroom undetected and went through their medical cabinet in hopes to treat his mangled hand. The homeowners were soon alerted of his presence, provoking the ragged man to attack them—he already planned to kill them anyway, but they sped up the process. The house was inhabited by a couple, the husband charged into the bathroom to fight the intruder but froze in fear at the sight of The Shape. The tall shadowy man turned his head, slow and certain, revealing his half charred face, his singed hair, and empty eyes. The light in the bathroom reflected off the tip of the bones around his neck. They were old bones but still splattered with fresh blood that caught the bright bar of illumination that hung above the wall mirror. In one instant, the stranger lunged at the older gentleman, grabbing his shoulders and ramming him into the wall before throwing him out of the door. The man fell to the ground and The Shape placed one heavy boot over his back. He stared, examining his victim. He noticed the man's wife frozen in fear at the grizzly sight of Michael Myers. Everyone knew the story, but to see him in person—standing in your house—was a different experience. She could smell the blood that covered his clothes, that stained his fresh bandages, the smoke from his discolored face, and the rot of his past murders that clung to his body. Michael Myers was taller than average by a short margin, but his appearance seemed to captivate the entire room, a beastly figure. Her husband struggled to breathe. The Shape bent down and wrapped his good hand around his victim's throat and squeezed. He didn't stop until he felt his fingernails fill with gooey flesh and the sound of tearing flooded his ears. In one instant, he ripped away, tearing the man's throat from his body. Blood pooled their freshly waxed floors, adding to their shine but left the room smelling like a butcher's shack.

"You bastard!" She screamed, as if the ice that held her body melted, she lunged at the man in black.

Michael reared up, grabbing her and tossing her to the side. She tried to stand but her hands slipped on the blood of her husband. She felt sick as the strange man threw the chunk of throat to the ground, as if angry he was interrupted. He grabbed a vase from a coffee table that lay in the middle of the room, smashed it, and buried it in the woman's skull. Frustrated he couldn't find anything worth taking from the bodies, he left the house.

"We need to stick together." Tommy whispered to himself.

Tommy, without much thought put into it, gathered a mob in town to take down The Boogeyman. He was preparing yet another speech, but he was still shocked from the news that he could barely speak.

"This man," he began, speaking firm and with purpose to motivate the angry people before him, "has terrorized us for years! He sat behind bars while we remained in fear—fear that he might come back because they chose to let this monster live. But tonight, we take action, we will put an end to The Boogeyman, the legend of The Magpie Child ends tonight. We need to be together on this. If we split up he'll overpower us. He hunts one by one, but he can't take on all of us at once. Please, join me to keep our town safe from this monster, so no one else has to fear for their life."

The mob began to shout, raising their weapons—some had normal weapons like bats, guns, or even pipe wrenches. But other made their own out of wooden boards, sharpened tree branches, or anything they could get a hold of.

Laurie wherever you are, this is for you.

Lonnie ran up to his friend, panting from exhaustion, "We found Laurie."

Tommy looked at him—his old babysitter—his friend, was alive, "Where?"

"She's at the Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, we think she was involved in a fight with Michael."

"Well if she survived an attack from him—again—she's one tough lady." Tommy chuckled with relief, "Get Marion and Lindsey, we'll group there, then."

The Shape stood behind a bush. It was short enough to where the top of his head breached it, allowing him to look at the neighborhood. But his attention was fixated on one house in particular. It was his childhood home, which was booming with new life.