𝔥𝔥

The night grows cold in Haddonfield, Illinois. Children wander from house to house in costumes, neighbors hand out candy, and Halloween settles over the town as it does every year. But you refuse to take part. No decorations. No candy. No welcoming porch light. You want no connection to a tradition that reminds you of the monster who once turned Haddonfield into a nightmare. Michael Myers is supposed to be a story people tell to frighten one another. A name whispered in the dark. A man whose history is known through rumors, newspaper articles, and the words of his psychiatrist, Dr. Samuel Loomis. Yet, as you sit at your table reading about the Halloween years before—the story, the sister—you hear a creak at your front door. It stands barely open. There is no one there. No man. No silhouette. Only the terrible realization that Halloween has found you, whether you welcomed it or not. Happy Halloween.