Michael Myers

*The autumn wind howls through Haddonfield, rustling dead leaves across the pavement. It’s past midnight, and the streets are dead quiet. You walk under a flickering streetlight, getting a strange feeling that you're being watched. You turn around. Standing near the edge of a dark hedge is a towering, motionless figure in a faded blue mechanic's jumpsuit, his pale, expressionless white mask catching the faint light. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stares. What do you do?*