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“Hey!”
Dustin looks up from Haddie and Yoichi’s cheat book to the trials with the latter author who is currently present and relaxing next to the warm fire.
“Hey you,” Dustin smiles, seeing the new visitor to be a familiar saboteur. “Where have you been?”
Yoichi snorts from his place next to the campfire but doesn’t say anything. Dustin wondered what that was about. He didn’t have any time to dwell on it as Jake’s response recaptured his attention.
“I’ve-been around,” the Korean says most conspicuously, “you know. Helping out at the campsite, trading offerings.”
There was movement at Jake’s side when he mentioned the offerings and the metallic jingle of keys.
“What’s that, there? Is it an offering?” Dustin questions. “I hadn’t seen one like that before. And there’s some freaking weird offerings to find too. I mean, how many people are going to toss a whole ass sci-fi door into the campfire?”
“Oh, this?” Jake holds up what appears to be a house key. “It’s-um-it’s not an offering the Entity will accept anymore. It’s more of a keepsake now.”
Dustin makes a noise of interest asking if he could see it. Jake agrees to and hands it over.
Dustin holds up the key to the fire light. Nothing unusual about it so far. It’s just a normal house key on a ring and a tag name for the supposed house this belonged to. The kind real estate agents would use.
However, the gears in Dustin’s brain started to reel when he took notice of the name on the tag. One long studious moment of staring and thinking before he jerks as if he’s been zapped by the Doctor.
“Strode! Like Laurie Strode! As in Halloween!?” Dustin’s face was filled with hormonal induced fanaticism. “Michael Myers is here??”
Jake’s face had turned into surprise then shifted into nervous conflict.
“Can I see him?” Dustin’s enthusiasm persists, smiling profusely in barely contained excitement.
“Well…Dustin, the thing is-”
“Yes, you should definitely take him to see Myers,” Yoichi pipes up, casually leaning back against a log with a jeer. “After all, you always know where to find him. Right?”
At that moment, Jake looked like he wanted to strangle Yoichi. His tanned face turned red, smoke came out of his ears, teeth gritted together as his hands rose up with twitchy fingers. Slurred garbling dribbled from his mouth that was most likely advanced cussing in Korean.
Dustin turns back to Jake, eyes sparking with impressed admiration. “Can we see him please? Pretty please?” The teenager gets down on his knees, hands clasped together, “I’ll give you all the party streamers I have. Which isn’t much to begin with, really. But I’ll find more!”
Jake pats him gregariously on the shoulder, “You can keep your streamers.” He helps Dustin back to his feet. “Just, please remember, he’s not a zoo animal. He’s a person. A very tall, strong, murderous person. But still a person. Got it?”
Dustin nods energetically, “Got it!”
Jake takes the lead as Dustin follows behind. They exit through the fog as they’ve arrived at their destination. The experienced Survivor checks the streets up and down making sure no unsavory Killers were visiting with them there.
With the coast clear, Jake makes a bee-line towards a particular two-story house.
Dustin catches sight of a street sign at an intersection and practically loses his mind.
“Elm Street??! The Entity took Freddy too?” he gasps, “is Nancy here? Uh-I mean, Nancy Thompson?”
Jake halts on the sidewalk, turning back with furrowed brows. “Thompson? Don’t you mean Holbrook?”
It was Dustin’s turn to be confused, “Holbrook?”
“That’s what Quentin said her name was.”
“Who the hell is Quentin?”
Jake sighs, rubbing his face in the palm of his hand. “This is definitely a story for another day. We’re here for Myers, remember?”
Dustin gasps, excitement renewed, “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah!”
“Alright,” Jake holds out a hand once they make it to the front doorstep, “when we get inside keep the noise on the down low. Don’t make sudden movements and try not to touch anything.”
Once the terms were agreed to they enter the threshold of the house.
Dustin took in the musty-dusty environment. The furniture from what the teen could see in the foyer seemed somewhat normal. An odd thing Dustin noted, though, is the way the beat up lazy boy is positioned directly in front of the couch with weirdly precise nicks and slashes and weirder looking stains on the fabric cushions. He didn’t know what it was, but it struck him to mean something his brain wasn’t fully comprehending.
A short hiss snapped Dustin’s attention back to Jake who stood a few steps up the stairs jerking his head up towards the second floor. The younger of the two complies with the silent command.
Dustin winces at every creaky step he takes. He wondered why no matter how light his tip-toes were Jake barely made a sound ahead of him.
But once they both made it to the top Jake places two fingers to his lips and gestures towards the room on their right. Dustin cautiously peeks around the edge of the doorframe and sees a large form in a white mask sleeping on his side without a blanket on a basic yet comfy looking bed.
Dustin curiously observes the Killer as Jake sits on the edge of the bed to pull the discarded covers over Myers. From the steady breathing of the slumbering killing machine to the gentle hand remaining vigilant of avoiding contact. Jake gazes at the man with almost fondness in his soft brown eyes before standing and gestures for the both of them to leave the room.
“You really care about him,” Dustin says in awe as they step into the kitchen, “don’t you?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Jake seats himself on a barstool with Dustin following suit.
“Sooo,” the teen tapped his fingers on the countertop, “what’s up with him, anyways?”
The saboteur looked Dustin in the eye with aberrance and a twinkle of something akin to sympathy. Resting his elbows on the white tiled countertop and Jake sighs into his clasped hands.
“We’ve been here a long, long time, Dustin,” Jake murmurs, nearly whispering. “When Michael came here-when the Entity finds a Killer of its choosing, as you should know by now, it creates a realm centered around their memories, of places they have a strong emotional attachment to. Michael got Haddonfield…for obvious reasons. He’s had it all these years.
“I don’t know what’s happened, or what Michael could have done to anger the Entity…” Jake pulls the real estate key out from his pocket, placing it between them. “The Entity took his home from him. He has nowhere else to go now.”
Dustin gingerly picks up the key, examining the last piece of Haddonfield that may not ever come back. The teenager sniffs loudly, bottom lip quivering.
“My god,” he says, “I can’t imagine how he feels. His inner sanctum, his-his Fortress of Solitude…just gone.”
Dustin lets the silence hang for a solemn moment. Taking Haddonfield from Michael Myers was like removing Jason Voorhees from Camp Crystal Lake. It just wasn’t right. Can never be right.
Dustin opens his mouth to say something else, drifting his gaze back up to Jake, only to gasp in shock and horror dropping the Strode key with a clatter.
Myers stood behind Jake, butcher knife in hand, grabs the Korean around the waist and presses the sharp blade against the man’s scarf-covered throat. Jake’s brown eyes widen at the contact but then closes and keens when the knife shifts upwards and into the scarf to caress his jugular with the cool stainless steel.
Jake suddenly frowns and grips Myers by the wrist to pull the butcher knife away from his neck.
“Michael,” he says in a stern tone, “we have a guest. Be polite.”
Dustin’s brain was currently short circuiting at the display of conflicting signals before his eyes.
“So wait a minute…I thought…he was…and you were…but you two? Huh??”
“I’m sorry, Michael can be…possessive.”
“Should I leave?”
“That would probably be a good idea. Hey!” Jake yelps when Myers grabs him in a rather sensitive spot on his thigh. While that was going on, the Killer made sure his knife was exposed to the young teenager at all times during the exchange.
“Yes, good idea. I’ll do that,” Dustin inches towards the back door as he exclaims, “even so, it was a pleasure to meet you, sir. Myers. Sir Myers. Myers, Sir!” Dustin doesn’t know where else that could go, and he doesn’t want to know. So he makes his hasty escape with a quick goodbye to Jake.
As soon as Dustin was gone, the butcher knife clattered to the ground. Michael’s head rests on Jake’s shoulder and he doesn’t move.
“Oh, Michael,” Jake turned in his chair so they were facing one another. The taller man's shoulders shook with silent tears as Jake pulled him into an embrace. Myers removes his mask to properly bury his face into Jake’s scarf, “I know, Michael,” gloved hands weaving up and down the Killer’s spine, trying to put him back together. “I know.”