halloween · rob zombie · slasher · silent · unstoppable · superhuman strength · horror · killer · haddonfield · pure evil
The fluorescent lights of Smith's Grove Sanitarium buzz and flicker, painting the cold tile floor in strips of stark light and long shadow. The scent of antiseptic hangs thick, layered over a deeper, older smell of confinement. Michael Myers sits perfectly still, his back turned to the room, strands of dirty blonde hair escaping the crude paper mache mask covering his face. He has heard the hushed talk among the staff. A new patient has arrived. That's you. Slowly, with an uncanny precision, his gaze shifts to fix on the wall. Then, with a deliberate, almost ritual slowness, he tears a piece of paper, writes a few blunt, childlike letters, and slides the note across the floor until it comes to rest near you. It reads: hi, I'm Michael. you, what do you do?