Chief Woody’s final words immediately gave Axel Vance an uncomfortable idea. He stared at his superior and cautiously asked, "You mean Mayor West and the others actually approved this bounty plan?" Woody slapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Of course they did. And whether you realize it or not, you helped convince them."
"Me?" Axel pointed at himself, genuinely confused. As far as he knew, he had never suggested turning Miami into a giant bounty-hunting contest. Woody laughed at his expression and said, "Don’t underestimate yourself, kid. You’re the only government cop who spent weeks living with those maximum-security psychos, so when you tell city officials twenty or thirty monsters are loose in Miami, people listen."
Woody explained that he had taken Axel’s report from the previous night directly to the politicians. He told them that fugitives capable of surviving Holden’s underground wing were now roaming the streets, and that one of them had apparently been dangerous enough to leave John Wayne Gacy dead with his face removed. Then Woody had presented Axel as the department’s resident expert and warned that Miami could become a playground for violent fugitives unless the city authorized extreme measures.
Axel’s eyelid twitched. "Since when am I an expert?"
"You survived half a month in that madhouse. Close enough." Woody finally burst out laughing when he saw Axel’s expression. "Relax. Your report only gave them the final push. There were too many escapees to hide, and once two innocent civilians turned up murdered last night, those politicians realized this problem could land on their own doorstep."
He leaned closer and added with obvious amusement, "Besides, that hundred-thousand-dollar reward isn’t coming out of my paycheck." Axel rubbed his forehead and wondered again whether he had actually transmigrated into a horror-movie universe or simply into a much larger mental institution called Miami. Everyone he met seemed to have an agenda, and basic restraint appeared to be in very short supply.
Before Axel could argue further, Clarice Starling approached with a bewildered expression. "Axel, what exactly happened while I was gone? I left my hotel this morning and passed at least twenty people carrying guns, newspapers, and photographs of escaped prisoners." She looked toward the crowd outside the station. "Some of them looked like they were organizing hunting parties."
Axel sighed and briefly explained Woody’s bounty announcement. By the time he finished, Clarice was staring at the police chief as though she had discovered another supernatural creature. "I’ve been in Miami for two days, and I’ve already seen more bizarre things than I expected to see in my entire FBI training."
She turned toward Woody. "Chief, aren’t you worried this could create panic, vigilante shootings, or even riots?"
Woody paused near the station entrance and snorted. "You’re new. That’s why everything shocks you." He waved dismissively toward her FBI credentials. "Go ask your supervisors whether federal agencies have always played nice when they wanted results."
Clarice’s mouth tightened, but Woody had already lost interest in arguing. He pointed toward Axel and said, "You two keep working your cult investigation. With half of Miami carrying wanted posters now, I’d appreciate it if you found your mastermind before some accountant with a hunting rifle collects the reward first."
Woody laughed at his own joke and disappeared into the station. Inside, officers were eagerly checking weapons, radios, and patrol gear as if they were preparing for the most exciting shift of their careers. Axel and Clarice were left standing outside exchanging equally exhausted looks.
Clarice finally smiled faintly. "So, are you joining them? A hundred thousand dollars per fugitive could become profitable."
Axel shook his head. "In this atmosphere, the first person who stands out too much is going to become a target himself." He thought for a moment before deciding that chasing random escapees would do nothing to answer the questions surrounding the prison. Their strongest unexplored lead was still Laurie Strode.
"Let’s go back to Laurie," Axel said. "Michael hasn’t shown himself yet, but there may be something in her past she doesn’t consciously remember." Clarice agreed, and the two left the station before Miami’s newly self-appointed bounty hunters could create another emergency for them.
They found Laurie and her adoptive father inside the small hotel near the department. Laurie was sitting on the edge of the bed with her arms crossed while her father looked increasingly exhausted by her complaints. "Dad, we can’t hide in this room forever. Michael hasn’t even shown up."
The moment Laurie saw Axel and Clarice, her mood changed. "Officer Vance, perfect timing. I’ve figured out exactly how we catch Michael." Axel raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.
"It’s easy," Laurie said enthusiastically. "I go home and act like everything is normal. You two hide inside or across the street, and when Michael finally shows up..." She raised both hands like imaginary pistols and made several rapid shooting noises. "Bang, bang, bang. Problem solved."
Her father nearly jumped out of his chair. "Laurie, absolutely not. I did not spend all these years raising you just so you could volunteer to become bait for a serial killer."
Axel could not help laughing at her disappointed expression. Laurie was brave, but she was still young enough to believe a dangerous plan became reasonable simply because it sounded exciting. "Your father’s right. We’re not deliberately putting you in Michael’s path."
Laurie immediately pouted. "Then what am I supposed to do? Sit in this hotel until I graduate?"
"Actually, I found somewhere we can visit." Axel pulled an address from his pocket. "While Clarice and I were reviewing your adoption and placement records, we found an old property connected to your earliest childhood records. If you see it again, you might remember something useful."
Laurie’s disappointment disappeared instantly. "So we’re finally leaving?"
Her father sighed but agreed to accompany them. Axel had no intention of taking Laurie anywhere without him, especially after everything they knew about Michael. Within minutes, the four were back in the car.
The address led them away from the busiest parts of Miami to an older residential area where several properties had been abandoned for years. The house they eventually stopped in front of was weathered, boarded up, and surrounded by an overgrown yard. According to the old records, the property had once been connected to Laurie’s biological family before her adoption, an obscure part of the Myers family history that had nearly disappeared from official paperwork.
Laurie climbed out and stared at the building. "This place?" Her expression shifted from excitement to uneasiness. "People used to say this house was haunted. I never knew I had actually been here."
Axel ignored the ghost story and approached the front entrance. Thick wooden planks had been nailed across the door, and when he tried grabbing one, he discovered several exposed nails and jagged edges that made pulling it away barehanded unnecessarily dangerous. After a few seconds, he stepped back instead.
Clarice noticed what he was doing. "Axel—"
Crash!
Axel drove the butt of his shotgun into the weakened door near the lock. The old wood split, dust exploded outward, and another strike opened enough space for them to enter. "Problem solved."
Clarice stared at him. "You know, some investigators carry pry bars."
"I had a shotgun."
A wave of musty air rolled out from the dark interior. Axel entered first with the shotgun ready while covering his nose and mouth with one hand, and Clarice followed with her weapon drawn. Laurie and her father stayed several steps behind them as they moved through the dusty rooms.
Old furniture still stood beneath white sheets and thick layers of dust. Cobwebs filled corners, wallpaper had peeled from the walls, and several family objects remained where someone had abandoned them decades earlier. Laurie’s earlier excitement gradually disappeared as she looked around.
Axel noticed the change. "Anything familiar?"
Laurie did not answer immediately.
Her eyes moved slowly across the room.
Then she whispered, "I’ve seen this before."
Her father stepped closer. "Laurie?"
She walked toward an old staircase and touched the railing. "I used to think these were dreams. I remember this staircase, that window, and the room upstairs." Her expression became distant as fragmented memories slowly returned.
Axel and Clarice exchanged a glance.
Laurie continued moving through the house as though following something only she could see. "This really was my home. I was little, but I remember parts of it."
Axel carefully asked the question that mattered most. "What about Michael?"
Laurie became quiet.
Then she nodded.
"I remember him."
Axel tightened his grip slightly around the shotgun.
Laurie’s voice became softer. "He seemed huge to me because I was so young. He used to stay close to me and protect me when I got scared." She frowned as if struggling to assemble broken pieces of memory. "And he smiled. I know that sounds strange after everything you told me, but I remember him smiling."
That did not resemble the emotionless Michael Myers Axel remembered from Halloween.
Then Laurie’s expression changed.
"Until the nanny came."
Axel immediately focused on her. "What nanny?"
Laurie closed her eyes for several seconds. "A woman started taking care of the house and watching us. After she arrived, Michael slowly became different."
That was the first genuinely new clue.
Axel stepped closer but kept his voice calm. "Do you remember her name?"
Laurie shook her head.
"What she looked like?"
Another shake.
"I was too young." Laurie pressed two fingers against her temple. "Most of it is blurry."
Clarice asked, "Was there anything unusual she did often? Something you associate with her?"
Laurie remained silent for almost a minute. Then her eyes opened.
"Music."
Axel frowned. "What kind?"
"She always played records while she worked." Laurie looked around the dusty room. "The same record over and over again."
Axel and Clarice immediately began searching.
They opened cabinets, checked shelves, and moved through the adjoining rooms while Laurie tried to identify anything else she remembered. After several minutes, Clarice called from across the room. "Axel. Over here."
Inside a cabinet covered in cobwebs sat an old record player.
Beside it was a black vinyl record without a label.
Axel’s expression became serious.
Laurie pointed toward it. "I think that’s the one."
Axel carefully removed the record and examined both sides. There was no title, artist, production company, or identifying number anywhere on it. After brushing dust from the record player, he placed the vinyl onto the turntable and lowered the needle.
For several seconds, only static filled the room.
Then music began.
Axel froze.
The melody was soft at first, almost beautiful, but beneath it came layered human voices repeating sounds in an unfamiliar language. High voices blended with low ones while a deeper rhythm pulsed underneath them.
His pupils contracted.
He knew this sound.
He had heard it through the concrete walls of Holden’s underground prison.
The same chanting that had driven inmates insane.
The same chanting that had accompanied Ed Gein’s resurrection.
"This is it."
Clarice turned toward him. "You’re sure?"
Axel stared at the spinning record. "Absolutely. This is the chanting from the prison."
The room suddenly felt much colder.
Clarice looked from the record toward Laurie. "Then whoever that nanny was, she may connect Michael’s childhood directly to whatever organization was operating beneath the prison."
Axel nodded slowly. Hannibal’s warning about a mysterious cult no longer sounded like psychological manipulation or a vague attempt to mislead him. They now had physical evidence connecting the same ritualistic sound to Michael Myers’s childhood years before the prison disaster.
"If we identify the nanny, we have a trail," Axel said. "Employment records, neighbors, old family documents, anything. Somebody has to know who she was."
Clarice agreed. "And if she belonged to the group behind the prison, we may finally have a name."
Axel reached toward the record player to stop it and secure the vinyl as evidence.
Before his hand touched it, an angry shout came from outside the abandoned house.
"Hey! You!"
Everyone inside froze.
Another voice shouted from the street, "Stop right there! Let me see your face!"
Axel immediately reached for his shotgun.
The man outside yelled again, "I know you’re one of those escaped convicts! Don’t you run from me!"
Then came gunfire.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
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