Read Online Halloween IV: The Ultimate Edition by Nicholas - Free Book Online Page A

sat up, he rubbed his eyes from the momentary blindness caused by the intensity of the burning fumes and the smoke. Then he stood up. Determined, he walked on in the direction of Haddonfield.
    He knew what he must do. He knew what someone must do. Anyone. For if the police and the people from Smith’s Grove or Ridgemont do nothing, blinded by their own absurdities and their own discernment, the town of Haddonfield would see a horror the likes of which no one had even seen in ten years, because this time the horror would be much greater.
    Michael Myers would return to his home town.
    And tonight, this night, was Halloween.
                 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
    A bell sounded the anticipated ending of another tedious day of elementary school, and the many anxious children rushed from their classrooms and flooded the hallways with their presences and their shouts of laughter. They knew it was Halloween, and they knew that tonight they would once again get their bagfulls of candy and neat-to-eat treats. They should be anxious; for this occasion only comes once a year to those fortunate enough to have costumes and participate in such a festive time of year.
    Jamie, however, actually was fortunate, for every little tike her age who resided in Haddonfield had fortunate families to come home to. She just looked---well, she looked odd , being the only child in school without a Halloween costume to show off to her fellow classmates. Everyone else had some sort of outlandish costume; rarely did she spot someone with something ordinary or simple. Most every child had a parent who was virtually an expert with needle and thread, or had a few extra bucks to spend for that extra set of clown shoes or those furry, floppy ears to make that Cocker Spaniel outfit look just right.
    But nooo, Jamie didn’t have a costume on, not so much as a mask, and it wasn’t because her parents were poor or her mother didn’t have time to sew anything together. It was simply because she didn’t want one .
    Now, there wasn’t a sin in that; it wasn’t a crime. But every other kid seemed to think so. Even that bratty little kid Kyle, the one with the clown suit with those stupid floppy shoes (couldn’t he trip in shoes like that?), had to make her feel like she was committing a crime, and a real nasty one at that.
    “Hey Jamie, where’s your costume?”
    She was just passing the playground, right near the monkey bars, on her way through the grass and headed out the chain link gate to the outside walkway. She turned and saw him. He was with a small band of cohorts and peers, and kids who simply came to watch little Jamie cry. It was like that, almost always. Almost.
    Yet another kid: “Where’s your mask? Or are you wearing it?”
    That was it; Jamie had to speak. “I don’t need to wear a stupid costume.”
    Kyle teased, “That’s because every day is Halloween at Jamie’s house. Right, Jamie? Cause your uncle’s the Boogeyman. Right, Jamie? Right, Jamie? Your uncle’s the Boogeyman!”
    In some ways, it was funny, all of them, dressed as clowns and bears and ghosts and buffalo, spacemen with ray guns and girls with little aluminum foil fairy wings. But to a little girl of six, it seemed like an abstract nightmare.
    They all surrounded Jamie, resembling a childish imitation of a police brigade, except that she didn’t feel threatened by their presence as much as the words they chanted, repeating Boogeyman, Boogeyman, Jamie’s uncle’s the Boogeyman.
    Boogeyman, Boogeyman JAMIE’S UNCLE’S THE BOOGEYMAN. BOOGEYMAN .
    Then another girl spoke out amongst them, “How come your mommy didn’t make you a costume, Jamie????”
    “How could she?” another boy responded. “Her mommy’s dead!”
    Suddenly the boy flashed a rubber skeleton straight into Jamie’s face. At first she thought he was about to knock her down with it.
    “Jamie’s