Michael Myers: Final Girl

The Stranger

He placed the article next to the photo she had laid out before he looked to her. Her expression had softened as she watched him relent. She knew he couldn't fight her on it. This was her Laurie, something he understood more than anything. Something that didn't need an explanation, it simply had to end. His only hope was that if he allowed her to do this, perhaps there was a chance she would still be there with him in the end. He hung his head to hide the sadness that was filling his chest. She walked over and reached her hands up, gently guiding his gaze back to her.

"This doesn't change anything," she said softly as she brushed one of his curls back, "this doesn't mean I don't love you."

Her hands were warm on his cheeks and her touch softer than ever as her thumb brushed over his skin. He knew there was a chance she would get caught. After all, no matter how much she wanted to be like him, she wasn't. She was inexperienced. So each touch was treated as though it was the last he would feel of her.

"I meant everything I said last night and I mean everything I'm saying now," she said, making sure he was listening, "it has always been you, Michael. It always will be. No matter what happens, it will always be you. I just wish I had found you sooner."

She did her best to hold back tears, but a few escaped as she began to pull herself away from him. It was difficult, there was a part of her that knew there may be no coming back from this. That this could indeed be the last time she would hold him. She made herself look at the picture of the woman in the article one last time to help her pry herself from him. She took one last look at him before she forced herself to turn away. She made sure to grab the gun she had taken and shoved it in the back of her jeans.

She paused in the doorframe, "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He watched her exit the room, leaving him to his own thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, thinking maybe this was a dream. Maybe that world he had been in not even an hour ago was still here, if he just closed his eyes. To his dismay he opened them to the empty room she had left him in. The wind through the now open front door was the only sound left in the house. It was an eerie prologue to the emptiness his life would return to without her here. He had to make one last attempt.

He marched down the hall clearing the length of the living room in just a few steps and he was out the door. Thankfully, she had just made it over the porch. In two more large strides he was able to grab her wrist.

"Michael-"

Without a second thought he tugged her into him and pressed his lips to hers. He rested his hands on her face and used them to press harder against her. She returned his passion, but it only made her weaker. She knew that was his hope. No part of her wanted to take her lips off of his but she broke the kiss. He knew she would. If he couldn't stop her then at least he had given her a proper goodbye. She graced him with a soft smile as her fingers reached up to trace his features.

She had felt the finality in his kiss and it frightened her, "That wasn't goodbye, was it?"

He didn't have an answer. He only stared back at her, taking in all her details just in case it was. How he wanted to see her in that dress lying in the grass with the sun on her face. To have her completely at peace in his arms. It took everything in him to let her go, but he did. He turned from her and walked back into the house without a second glance. He couldn't watch her walk away from him, he didn't want that image. She however lingered there for quite sometime, long after he disappeared from her view. She wondered if she really had the strength to do it. She knew without a doubt she could kill and she would. It was the fear of never seeing him again that threatened to keep her in place. Her heart was ever tormented by her mind which continued to produce images from her past. She would never be able to truly let go unless she gave in. She tore herself away, she had to. Her steps were slow at first but soon she regained her confidence as she reached the forest. With the house out of view it was easier to focus. She made her way through the dense woods best she could. After a few tedious minutes of getting stuck on twigs and thorns she noticed the driveway. She let out a chuckle wondering how she could have missed it the whole time they were living there. Just before she stepped onto the gravel, something caught her eye. A familiar Oldsmobile station wagon was hiding within the the unkempt grass. It would be a little less inconspicuous, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it meant foregoing the long walk to Haddonfield. She reached for the handle finding it to be unlocked. As she slid into the front seat she briefly wondered how she would start it. Then she remembered. She reached up for the sun visor and when she pulled it down the keys fell into her lap.

She laughed, "Thanks, Daniel."

She knew it looked familiar and if it was his car, then there was something else in it that would come in handy too. She unlocked the glove compartment to find the ammunition he always kept hidden there. She pulled out the pistol and quickly loaded it up. She didn't necessarily want to use the gun on her prey, that would be too quick a death, but she knew she would have need for it at some point. She hid the gun behind her once more and shoved the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and she carefully reversed it out of its hiding place. Just before she put it in drive she felt that familiar pair of eyes on her. She refused to look back and quickly stepped on the gas, hoping he had gotten the message. She didn't want to be followed.

He stood in the window and watched the gravel fly as she sped down the driveway. He had figuratively chained himself into place for her to leave. No part of him wanted to, but if this is what she needed from him then he would do his best. He wanted to hope she wouldn't go through with it. That the drive would give her enough time to come to her senses and realize that wasn't who she was.

But he thought back to what she had said, "If you can't love me after this, then you never really did."

Could he love her after this? If she really went through with it then she was no different than him. A killer. Her humanity would end as his had and that part of her was something he wasn't sure she would be the same without. Or had she already lost it and he had been blind to it? He thought back to the night he had killed him, the look in her eyes as she had watched. The excitement in her gaze as his blood emptied out before her. It was the same just the night before as she stood over their intruder. She had stood over him with more lust in her eyes for blood than even he had ever had. It frightened him to think he had been wrong about her, he didn't like that thought. Ultimately, he was protecting not her but himself from the knowledge that he had fallen in love with a sick extension of himself. Perhaps she had been innocent once, but he was beginning to realize that woman he saw laughing by the fireside all those years ago died in that room she had been trapped in for so long. Maybe she died that night with him or maybe it happened long before, but she was gone. Still, she had a part of him he couldn't get back. He wanted to hate her for taking it but he couldn't. He didn't want to regret anything about her. He wouldn't, but he knew he would regret letting her do this. If she went through with it only to find she couldn't live with what she had done then a part of him would die with her. He could live with her hating him as long as she was still breathing. And she would hate him, but so be it. This wouldn't be the end of her story. Maybe he couldn't be apart of that dream with her, but that was how her life should be. If hating him meant she had a chance, then he would give her that. Going may have been her decision, but stopping her was his. And he had to.