Haddonfield is a town in Illinois, located nearly two thousand miles from Los Santos.
Even with several drivers taking turns, the journey would still take two to three days.
On the interstate highway, a dark blue van was cruising along.
On its side, a cartoon sticker of a crocodile was peeling at the edges.
Clancy knelt in the back of the van, holding a night-vision-capable handheld camera, adjusting the focus on a road sign outside the window.
Peter, sitting in the passenger seat, flipped through a stack of scripts filled with notes, murmuring softly as his sparse hair clung stiffly to his scalp with gel.
Andre, who was driving, rubbed his tired eyes and complained upon hearing Peter's lifeless tone:
"Come on, Peter, can't you sound a bit more terrifying? We're heading to the Myers house this time, the home of that masked killer!"
"The way you just delivered your lines sounded like an old man selling lawnmowers!"
Hearing Andre's criticism, Peter threw down the script in annoyance. "I've been working nonstop for over ten hours, Andre!"
"And this van is stuffy as a tin can. You can't expect me to maintain perfect stage presence under these conditions."
Andre curled his lip, ignoring his old partner's complaints.
As the founder of the paranormal exploration show "Sewer Crocodile," all he cared about was the click-through rate.
The previous episodes exploring abandoned hospitals had received lukewarm responses. If this special on the Haddonfield killer didn't go viral, their funding chain would completely break.
"Hey! Sephirot."
Andre switched to a familiar tone, calling out to Sephirot in the back seat,
"What brings you all the way to Haddonfield? Are you also searching for that legendary masked killer?"
Sephirot leaned against the hard seatback, watching the guardrails flash past outside the window, and replied casually, "You could say that. I've always been quite interested in these killer legends."
Hearing this, Andre took a moment to study this carpool passenger via the rearview mirror.
Mixed heritage, sharp features, black hair streaked with silver-white, plus that uniquely styled trench coat, he naturally exuded an unapproachable aura.
In this appearance-obsessed internet age, someone with that look would definitely attract a huge wave of young female fans just by standing in front of the camera.
"Interested in joining my show?"
Andre half-turned, extending an olive branch. "Our show often gets access to fresh, thrilling cases. With your looks, you'd make a great field host, guaranteed to be more interesting than whatever you're doing now."
Considering the other had carpooled, he added after a pause, "And the host salary is the highest among us."
At these words, the atmosphere in the van shifted subtly.
Peter in the passenger seat stiffened, turning to look at Sephirot.
As a middle-aged man nearing fifty, Peter's situation was a complete mess.
The high monthly property taxes, alimony for his ex-wife, and credit card bills weighed him down, making it hard to breathe. He had to hold onto this on-camera hosting gig, it was his rice bowl. If he was replaced by this young guy who came out of nowhere, he'd be on the streets next month.
Sephirot naturally sensed this hostility, found it somewhat amusing, and then brushed it off casually:
"We'll talk about it later."
Andre simply took it as him considering the idea and didn't press further, instead eagerly laying out ambitious future plans:
"Once we finish exploring Michael Myers's old house and secure the first-ever online exclusive, our show is absolutely going to blow up."
"Then, with ample sponsorship funds, we'll set off for Louisiana immediately."
The cameraman Clancy, who hadn't spoken till now, looked up: "What's in Louisiana?"
"Dulvey outskirts."
Andre suddenly lowered his voice, putting on a mysterious air: "There's an abandoned farmhouse there."
"Rumors say that over the past three years, more than twenty people have vanished mysteriously in that area, with even the police finding no leads. It's definitely top-tier clickbait material."
Up front, the others were enthusiastically discussing their future adventure plans.
Sephirot leaned against the window, watching the monotonous scenery outside, feeling rather bored.
Strangely enough, hitching a ride with ordinary people this time, crossing several states along the way, had been surprisingly uneventful.
Not a demon in sight, not even a roadside robber to be found, it actually left him feeling a bit let down.
Was he truly cursed when it came to vehicles?
—--
Several hours later, the van entered the town of Haddonfield.
As soon as the vehicle entered the town, it was stopped by a patrol car.
A potbellied sheriff knocked on the window, questioning their origins with a hint of wariness.
When he heard Andre mention "Michael Myers," the sheriff's face instantly darkened, sternly warning them to turn around and leave immediately.
The town didn't welcome any thrill-seeking media or tourists.
Andre nodded repeatedly in agreement.
Once the patrol car left, he turned the steering wheel and drove straight onto a remote dirt road, finding a hidden thicket to turn off the engine and park.
—--
After resting for a few hours, the sun gradually set.
"I'm the director of this show, so I have to stay in the van and coordinate everything."
Andre adjusted the monitor in front of him as he instructed, "Peter, you take Clancy inside. Keep the comms clear."
"Mr. Sephirot, this is as far as we can take you. If you want to go in for some excitement, you can follow Peter and the others."
Sephirot nodded.
Michael Myers's old house, though located in the town, appeared grim and dilapidated due to years of vacancy and neglect.
The three of them passed through the woods and arrived at the backyard of the old house.
Climbing over the courtyard wall, they found the back door leading inside secured with a rusty iron chain.
Peter pushed the door; it didn't budge.
He looked back at the cameraman carrying the equipment: "Clancy, come give me a hand. Hoist me up so I can see if we can climb in through a second-floor window."
Seeing them dawdle, Sephirot stepped forward directly and kicked the back door.
"Boom!"
The wooden door fell inward outright, kicking up a wave of dust.
Sephirot waved a hand through the air and walked in first.
Left standing in place, Peter watched this scene, his mouth agape, unable to utter a word for a long time. Clancy also froze for a moment, silently raising the equipment he had just set down again.
After entering, there was a dim hallway, directly leading to the front door's entryway.
A foul, fishy odor wafted from the kitchen on the left.
Sephirot looked over. In the messy kitchen lay the corpse of a wild dog.
The blood on the body hadn't completely congealed yet, indicating it had died not long ago. There were marks on its flesh where it had been gnawed.
Peter, who had followed behind and entered, covered his nose, his stomach churning violently.
He instinctively glanced at Sephirot, only to find the young man looking completely calm, not even frowning.
This composure made Peter feel a tremendous sense of crisis.
After all, the unseen producer Andre was also watching this scene and would definitely compare their behavior.
He absolutely could not allow a hitchhiking passenger to steal his spotlight and job in front of the camera.
"What's so interesting about a dog killed by wild animals, Clancy? Come with me upstairs!"
Gritting his teeth against the nausea, Peter forcefully turned the camera on Clancy's shoulder towards his own pale, aged face.
"Dear viewers, the first floor only has some traces of wild animals. The second floor is the actual scene of that murder all those years ago."
"On Halloween, Michael Myers, only six years old at the time, personally killed his own sister."
"What exactly happened back then? Please follow our camera as we investigate."
With that, he didn't even glance at Sephirot, taking Clancy and climbing the wooden stairs to the second floor.
Sephirot was also content with the peace, wandering around the various rooms on the first floor himself. Apart from some emptied-out cans, he didn't find anything.
He returned to the back door area again, looking behind the stairs leading to the second floor.
There, was a door leading to the basement.
Just as Sephirot stepped forward to open the door, two terrified screams suddenly came from the second floor.
(Translated by yourtl.app)
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TL NOTES — CROSSOVER GUIDE
Some references in this chapter come from source universes that may be unfamiliar to some readers. The notes below provide the context needed to understand them without leaving the page.
SOURCE UNIVERSES
Resident Evil 7: Biohazard — A survival horror game by Capcom set in a rural Louisiana mansion. The protagonist searches for his missing wife and becomes trapped on the property of the Baker family, who have been transformed into violent, near-unkillable hosts by a parasitic bioweapon. The Baker estate in Dulvey, Louisiana became the site of multiple disappearances over several years, with the police finding no leads. Andre's description of Dulvey, the abandoned farmhouse, and the 20+ people who vanished without explanation is a direct reference to this setting.
PLACES
Dulvey — A remote rural area in Louisiana, site of the Baker family estate in Resident Evil 7. The location is notorious for unexplained disappearances spanning years, with no bodies or suspects ever found. Andre mentions it as the crew's next destination after Haddonfield.