Just shelved. I finished the book in March of 2020, and the studio hadn’t released my name as the novelisation’s author when they decided to postpone the movie. So for over a year, I got to watch fans wildly theorize online about what was going to happen in Halloween Kills, but I knew. I was glad my name wasn’t released. That way, I didn’t have to deal with fans messaging me and asking questions about the script I couldn’t answer. But I had so much fun writing the book that it was a bummer not being able to talk about it for so long! Ben looked at Sam as he spoke, taking in his words as best he could but couldn’t help himself. “Sam, I’m afraid for that girl. I’m not afraid she’ll be murdered in some terrible way by Michael Myers. I’m afraid you will be the one to push her right over the edge of sanity.” The room was suddenly engulfed in the blistering guitar riffs and thunderous beats that blared from the speakers. The melodic chaos of Alice Cooper’s music reverberated through the walls, drowning out any lingering traces of silence and replacing them with visceral energy. It was a paradoxical juxtaposition, for anyone observing Rachel purely based on appearances would never suspect her penchant for such intense and abrasive tunes. Yet, here she was, immersing herself in the fiery catharsis of heavy metal, finding comfort in its unapologetic expression. As the water cascaded down her naked body in rhythm with the pounding music, Rachel was carried away by the savage melodies and searing lyrics. The turbulent storm of emotions brewing within her since the horrifying incident of the previous year had now found release in the music. It was a sanctuary that allowed her to temporarily forget the haunting memories lurking in her mind’s recesses. In this connection’s depths, Jamie realized it was not a oneway conduit. The flow of information and emotions moved in

Halloween Kills novelisation – Bloody Flicks Tim Waggoner talks Halloween Kills novelisation – Bloody Flicks

Tears streamed down Sam’s face, overwhelming loss and anguish consuming him. Meanwhile, Jamie remained poised, the glint of the shears still held high in her hand, a potent symbol of her descent into madness. Sheriff Meeker, fully aware of the dire circumstances, approached Jamie with very cautious steps. He clung to a glimmer of hope, hoping his words could pierce through the madness engulfing Jamie’s mind. But as they drew nearer, their eyes were forced to confront the grim reality that awaited them, shattering any illusions of a mere juvenile ruse. Sam ignored Ben’s comments, pulled him to the end of the hall, and continued, “You must understand, Sheriff, that this isn’t a man. I thought you understood that after your experience with him last year. I truly do not believe we killed him last year. There are places in my heart that have grown colder every single day since, and I know it is him.” Having dedicated his life to unraveling the enigma of Michael Myers, Dr. Loomis had spent countless hours immersed in research, formulating theories to make sense of the unfathomable madness that consumed his former patient. Over the years, he had crafted a web of suppositions, attempting to find some semblance of rationale within the labyrinthine depths of Michael’s depravity. And this one was right at the top of the list. One year had passed since the return of Michael Myers to Haddonfield and the devastation and chaos left in his wake. In the aftermath, Jamie Lloyd, Myers’ nine-year-old niece, lay in her bed at the Haddonfield Children’s Clinic, lost in a deep slumber. Unbeknownst to those around her, Jamie was caught in the grip of a recurring nightmare. These nightmares were no strangers to Jamie, haunting her consciousness with relentless persistence. Yet, it was not the horrifying images in her head of her uncle’s malevolence that troubled her the most, but rather the subsequent nightmares that followed. These were nightmares where Jamie was forced to relive the brief yet terrifyingly psychotic moment she had been driven mad by some unseen force and stabbed Darlene, her foster mother. The residual guilt and trauma continued to torment her, refusing to release their grip on her fragile psyche.Doctor Loomis turned and looked at the front doors of the hospital. He had thoughts of evil on his mind. Max whined quietly and gently put his head down on Rachel’s lap. They sat like that for a few minutes before Rachel moved his head off of her lap and said, “I gotta get dressed, Max. Now, sit on this couch and don’t move! No more barking!” Tina looked solemnly at Rachel and said, “I’m sorry, hon, but the man has a hold on me! I gotta jet for right now, but I’ll call ya later, okay?” Dr. Loomis had always been known for his fiery temper, but it had transformed into a raging inferno of unbridled rage in recent months. Even the slightest discomfort or irritation could trigger an explosive outburst. His cane became a tool of intimidation, a means to exert control over those who dared to cross his path. If a staff member failed to meet his expectations, they would be subjected to his furious tirades or even a firm strike from his cane. The blows were never severe enough to inflict actual harm, of course, but they did serve as a clear warning that they had crossed a line. Even Jamie, the young girl under his care, had felt the sting of fear in his presence. He wished she didn't fear him, but he couldn't blame her.

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Dr. Loomis? No. Well, I don’t know, I can’t find him anywhere. He’s been barking at a cat or something since we got home. Dr. Loomis, I’m frightened.” Rachel said. The younger woman began to get agitated. “I know what you're thinking, and that's why I didn't want to get into this with you. You're going to say that that's how it started with Grandpa Nordstrom.”Michael eventually commands the ward as neither the staff nor the other inmates dare to challenge or defy Michael for fear of retribution. [6] who has been my most significant emotional supporter throughout the absolutely insane journey of writing. Your patience and A year passed, marked by the somber halls and sterile walls of the psychiatric facility that housed Jamie. Within that time, a consensus emerged among the doctors overseeing her care—Jamie had become mute. The absence of her voice spoke volumes, a haunting echo that resonated within the hearts of those who tended to her. All except for one: Doctor Sam Loomis.