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Wind howled and dragged dried leaves across the sidewalks and lawns amongst the faint flicker of jack-o-lanterns tonight. The sound of soles hitting the blacktop of the street could be heard faintly in the night. It was like a crowd marching toward the same place and the only way you would hear it was if you slowed down to truly listen. Haddonfield had its run-in with evil incarnated all those years ago, but it could still be felt well after Dr. Loomis had warned us of its arrival.
No one understood why The Shape returned to terrorize and butcher the townsfolk of Haddonfield on Halloween night. There were discussions of banning the holiday altogether to discourage the boogeyman’s return. Even if it had been banned, the killings would continue because it was never really about the night itself. You wouldn’t know The Shape’s purpose unless you saw the gleam of the knife, felt the pressure of its grip, or looked into the eyes behind the mask yourself.
Decades have passed, but we all know our purpose whenever The Shape opens the doors to the Myers’ house and ascends those stairs. All of us have been marching back there ever since we met our violent ends to stand in awe of our great creator. No sound can be heard when the boogeyman stands there in the house where it all began, where evil was born. Through the window, it watches, it looms, it remembers. Through the window, we worship and welcome the new members of our congregation.
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