It was fall. The cool breeze blew through the quiet town of Alden, New York. In the woods, there he stood, machete in hand, Nate Bailey. This is where that weird music would start that showed Michael Myers was going to kill someone, but this time it’s Nate Bailey. He hid behind a tree waiting for his next victim. It was the night of Halloween. It was October 31, 2010. The next day it would be November, and the headlines would be all about him. He heard older kids laughing in the distance. Lately those were his victims. Drunk, high kids in the woods. He already killed around five of them tonight. Soon enough that five would turn into ten, and that ten would turn into fifteen. He crouched behind a random bush in the darkness. In the distance he could see the kids sitting around a campfire slurring their words. No one knew that Nate Bailey was the killer that struck every Halloween for the past three years. You would think that kids were smart enough to stay with other people in public instead of stumbling into their own death in the woods, but hey it’s Alden. All their backs were turned from him. He stood up, twisted his neck side to side to crack it and started walking slowly to towards the fire. Nate Bailey was “the boss” so people say. In this case he’s “the killer.” He continued to walk until he was fifteen feet away from the kids. They didn’t even notice he was there. They continued to drink and laugh about nothing. He walked closer tightening his grip on the machete that would soon pierce the skin of some innocent kid. One kid stood up to walk away to throw up when he walked right into Nate Bailey. The kid squinted his eyes to try to fix his vision, but it was too late. Vision is worthless when you’re dead. Nate Bailey thrusted the machete into the torso of the kid. He watched the kid drop to his knees before he moon walked back into the darkness.
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