Thanks, everyone, for your continued support. I’ve been very busy working on a few different things including Michael Myers, a Halloween Fanfiction, so some quick updates, first:
For one, War and Glory, Lokians 3 has been proofed. I still need to clean up the formatting, but that won’t take more than about an hour’s time.
I want to release that particular, scifi book in September, which gives everyone plenty of time to become acquainted with the Lokians scifi series.
At this very moment, and for only a few more days, everyone can download my Lokians scifi series for free, that and a few other titles.
That’s basically it on the updates, to be honest–War and Glory is coming out on time, and I’ll release some excerpts here and there, but sometimes I get enough scifi and want to write some horror, which is why we’re back on track with Michael Myers, a Halloween Fanfiction.
Here’s chapter 3:
“This stringy brat,” the man with black hair asked.
“His name is Michael Myers,” Loomis said.
Michael was standing before two men in a bright room. There were blue mats all over the ground, and the walls were pristine white, except for a few blood splatters that had never been fully cleaned.
“He doesn’t look like much; beaten and bruised.”
“He fought through a dozen B’s and all for a cotton ball. He seems to like them,” Loomis replied.
“Does he understand what’s going on around him?”
“I think so, but being autistic, he must find it rather difficult to relate to normal people. What I do know is that it’s your job to make sure he understands how to fight.”
“I’m aware of my job here, Dr. Loomis,” Ushiro condescended.
“Just understand that I’ve picked Michael for Lieutenant Reichstag’s special team.”
“But he’s only six,” Ushiro sounded surprised.
“I don’t care how old he is. By the time you’re through with him, he’d better be ready for Reichstag. She’s been pressing Smith’s Grove pretty hard, and so far, we haven’t been able to give her more than three kids. If you can’t whip Michael into shape, I shudder to think at how the military will respond.”
“Whatever,” Ushiro sounded disinterested. “Myers,” he yelled. “When I call you, you look at me!”
“He won’t look you in the eye,” Loomis stated, dryly.
Ushiro shrugged. He nabbed Michael by the hair and bobbed his head up and down. “You do this when you understand. This means yes, and if you want to play with cotton balls, you’ll do everything I tell you. Understand?”
He let go the boy’s head, and he certainly nodded, but it was the mere act of bobbing his head up and down that Michael enjoyed. He just kept nodding, so Ushiro snickered.
“He’s all yours,” Loomis said and left.
“Alright, kid, stop bobbing your head and listen.” Ushiro then explained that he was the Sensei, and he taught little boys and girls how to fight. “You want this cotton puff?”
Michael reached for it, still nodding, but Ushiro hid it behind his back. “Stop nodding!” Michael did and looked up, but he was staring at Ushiro’s nose. “Close enough. Now, step your left foot out like this.”
He made an effort to teach the boy the basics of karate, but for the most part, everything was lost on Michael, so the Sensei manipulated the boy as he calmly talked him through the training. After an hour of suppressing his irritation, he handed Michael the cotton ball. The boy plunked down and rubbed it over his face. A minute later, Ushiro took it from him, and the boy attacked.
Laughing, Ushiro swept his feet out from under him, and he fell to the mats with a loud smack. He tried to wriggle up, but the man pinned him down with his foot.
“You want something bad enough, you have to fight for it. You understand?”
Amazingly, Michael nodded.
“That’s it. There’s hope for you after all,” Ushiro laughed.
They trained hour after hour for the whole day, and after Ushiro felt the boy was beginning to learn, he let him play with the cotton. Eventually, orderlies came in to sedate Michael and strapped him to a chair. They then wheeled him into the large room filled with rows of tables and chairs. Boys and girls ate their dinner before receiving more, mysterious inoculations.
Finally, Michael was taken back to the room with the cots where he fell asleep. There was something different about sleep that night. Michael saw a little girl. She was very small with long, dark hair. She smiled and played with him. He liked it when she rubbed his face with a little brush. When the man and the woman called out Laurie, she giggled and ran to them, dropping the toy brush on the ground. Michael reached for it, but then he found himself in blackness.
He felt the rough blanket over his body. He wasn’t with the girl anymore. He was with many, angry children. They constantly fought with one another, and he knew that if he fought back, there was a chance to play with cotton balls.
Not too far away, he saw a dim light bled through a crack by the bottom and top of the darkness, so he rolled out of bed and walked over to it. It was the light from the hallway bleeding through the door. He tried to open it to leave, but the handle didn’t turn. Long after, the lights came on making him shut his eyes for a second. The sound of feet drew his attention, and he stood up.
When the door opened, he saw the orderly that had broken his toy brush, and he started punching her in the legs. She took something from around her back and jammed it into his chest. Whatever it was sent such a seizure through his body that he fell back.
“You little pricks like the prod, don’t ya’?” she laughed.
He saw she was holding a long, black stick of some sort. “Get up. It’s time for breakfast.” She and two men, all wearing white, led the kids to the room where everyone ate. After they ate, they were given more shots. Michael always looked at the cotton when they swabbed his arm. He knew that if he fought hard enough, the ball was his, so he started throwing punches like Mr. Ushiro had shown him, but someone shocked him again.
It required some effort, but he managed back up to his feet. “That’s real good, Myers,” Ushiro said. Michael looked over. The man was wearing all white except he had a funny-looking, black belt over his clothes. He was standing with his arms hidden behind his back. “Are you ready for today’s lesson?”
Michael nodded for about two minutes while Ushiro gathered up two dozen kids and led them down the hall. Other men and women wearing white followed, and they made sure to prod the kids that stepped out of line. Then, they were herded into the room with blue mats. Ushiro set them up to stand in certain positions.
Some of the kids tried to wander off, but there were always people ready to shock them. During Ushiro’s lesson, he made the kids fight each other one at a time. Then, he made them fight two and three at a time. Every time Michael hurt one of the kids, he was allowed to play with a cotton ball for a few minutes. Then, Ushiro took it away, and Michael fought for it, but the Sensei was too strong, too quick.
After class, all the kids were led back to the eating room. Some of them, like Michael, had to be sedated, and after eating, they received more shots yet again. The boy always tried to get the cotton ball, but no one let him, and every time he tried, he was prodded, strapped to a chair, and sent to bed.
Sometimes, at night, in the dark, kids fought each other. When they came for Michael, he bit them, jammed his fingers into their eyes, choked, or beat them with his fists; Ushiro’s words never left him. Sometimes, at night, the people in white came into the room very quietly. Michael heard some of the kids scream and cry, but then the sounds grew muffled. One time, he felt someone grab him.
He had been seeing the little girl again, and he liked her very much, but someone had grabbed him and turned him onto his stomach. He felt a hand pin him down, and it was hard to breath with his face in the pillow. Whoever it was tore the clothes from his body and did something he didn’t understand. Like everything else, it didn’t hurt, but he didn’t like it. The following morning, the woman told him it happens to everyone, and she laughed while she helped him get dressed. Something about her laugh made him angry.
He looked right at her nose then her mouth. He hated that smug smile. He stomped her foot, and she reached behind her back to grab the prod, but he was expecting it; he wanted it. He hopped back, grabbed it with his left hand, like Ushiro showed him, and he grabbed her wrist with the other hand. He bit her and took the prod; as he began to hit her all over, she fell back, and the other kids swarmed her. They tore her to pieces before more men flooded the room.
There were loud bangs and pops. White smoke filled the room. The smoke made Michael choke and cry, and then someone pulled the prod from his hands. Suddenly, the lights went out.
Thanks for reading chapter 3 of Michael Myers, a Halloween Fanfiction. Like, share, blah, blah, blah.