American Horror: Grind Edition Chapter 12 12: Michael Myers

Soone had dug a tunnel underground.

The discovery hit everyone like a gut punch.

Clarice's perfect eyebrows pinched together. She stepped right up to the pit wall, face full of pure disbelief.

"This can't be right. An operation this massive would take serious manpower and resources. How the hell did nobody hear a thing?"

The construction foreman nodded, looking just as rattled.

He pulled off his hard hat and scratched at his thinning hair, voice thick with professional doubt.

"Officer, I've been in this ga thirty years. Seen bosses skip town and gut entire factories. Seen crews cut corners so bad the foundation cracked. But digging out a goddamn football field right under our noses without a single whisper? First ti for everything."

He clicked his tongue and pointed at the massive void, equal parts baffled and almost impressed.

"Tell you what—takes one hell of an organized, bored-as-fuck crew to pull sothing like this off."

Organized? Bored?

Those two words clicked everything into place in Luke's head.

Organized ant serious structure.

And in a country built on religion like Arica, high organization usually pointed straight at one thing.

A cult.

Fanatical, paranoid, willing to burn money and manpower without blinking.

Hannibal's letter flashed through Luke's mind again.

"That was the work of a mysterious church."

Luke's brow furrowed. If a real cult was behind this, they were in deep shit.

And the whole thing had that classic cult flavor—massive effort for zero obvious payoff.

He looked at Clarice, who was still staring at the hole like it had personally insulted her, and laid out his theory.

"Agent Starling, I've got a wild guess."

"This wasn't so regular cri syndicate."

"What do you an?" Clarice turned.

Luke spoke slow and clear.

"What if this was a cult?"

"A cult?"

Clarice froze for half a second, then her eyes widened like she'd just rembered sothing awful.

"If it was them, that would explain everything."

She pressed a hand to her forehead like the word alone gave her a migraine.

"But for us? That's terrible news."

Luke frowned. "How is that bad news?"

Clarice gave a bitter laugh, voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Officer Luke, you've probably never worked one of these cases. Dealing with them is a nightmare."

"They've got the best lawyers money can buy, friends in Congress, and thousands of rabid followers ready to hit the streets and scream at the drop of a hat."

"In the end the case just… disappears. And half the ti we end up covered in shit ourselves."

Luke went quiet.

Un-fucking-believable.

He hadn't expected to be dealing with real-world political headaches inside a goddamn horror movie.

He turned back to the ruins and growled, "We're not letting this slide. We investigate first, worry later."

Clarice caught his fire and straightened up.

"You're right."

Luke took a deep breath, Hannibal's letter still echoing in his skull.

"The clues may lie among the serious offenders."

He had his next move.

"Clarice, we need to get back to the station right now and pull every file on the heavy hitters from that prison."

Clarice caught on fast.

"You think this is connected to one of them?"

"Damn right," Luke said. "Nobody moves without a reason—even the crazy ones. Backgrounds, cris, connections… we don't skip a single thread."

He looked back at the foreman, whose face had gone pale.

"How long till this place is fully cleared?"

The man hesitated, then clenched his jaw.

"Was thinking this job was solid money. Now you've got spooked. I'd rather finish fast and get the hell out."

"Originally a month. I'll light a fire under the crew—see if we can wrap it in a week."

Luke nodded.

"Good. Anything new turns up, call the station imdiately."

He and Clarice headed back to Miami PD.

The mont they walked in, the sa cop who'd joked with Luke earlier—Steve—ca strutting over with a shit-eating grin.

"Yo, Luke, first day back and you're already bringing your girlfriend to work? Ballsy move, man."

Before Luke could say a word, Clarice stepped forward, flashed her badge, and introduced herself.

"Hi. Federal agent. Temporary partner with Luke. You can call Clarice."

The three letters FBI hit like a curse.

Steve's smile died on the spot. He jerked back like she'd pulled a gun.

"Damn! I got a call—gunfight downtown. Gotta go support!"

He grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door before anyone could blink.

The whole office went dead silent.

Every cop suddenly found their paperwork fascinating. Nobody even glanced their way.

Clarice stood there looking awkward as hell.

She leaned in and whispered, "Did I grow sothing weird on my face? Why's everyone acting so strange?"

Luke sighed. "Think about who you are. FBI and local cops? Not exactly best friends."

Clarice muttered under her breath, "When I was a kid everyone loved federal agents…"

Luke didn't bother answering.

He walked straight to records, grabbed the thick stack of files on every serious offender from the prison, and hauled it back to his new desk.

Together they started flipping through the ss.

Most of it was pure nightmare fuel.

Serial murders. Dismbernt. Mass shootings. Arson. Poisonings.

These files read like a criminal encyclopedia. Compared to this crowd, drug dealers were just small-ti hustlers.

Half of them had severe ntal illness on top of everything else. Once their sentences ended they went straight to psych wards.

Luke even spotted files for Hannibal and the big guy—Gein.

Then one na jumped off the page and punched him in the chest.

Michael Myers.

Holy shit. Old friend.

Luke yanked the file out fast.

The mugshot showed a tall, blank-faced man staring straight through the cara.

Luke racked his brain but couldn't rember seeing that face anywhere in the prison.

Not during the chaos either. No one that big had been in the mix.

He read the record.

"Murdered his biological parents. Attempted to kill his biological sister but was stopped by a neighbor. Diagnosed with severe schizophrenia by psychiatric evaluation. Sentenced to life imprisonnt."

It matched.

Every detail lined up perfectly with what Luke rembered from his old life.

It was him.

The killer from Halloween.