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It’s not healthy. It’s probably not healthy. It’s definitely not healthy. Yet Jason is undead and a serial killer anyway, so what’s one more death in the face of all that?
It starts the same as it always does.
He moves through the woods, steps unnaturally silent given his size. The leaves have yet to come back and the weather has yet to get warmer, but even still, the forest is crawling with trespassers. He abhors it, even, with the kind of anger that eats him from the inside. His attention never strays from the group of five making their way down the trail just thirty feet ahead of him, laughing and talking amongst themselves as if they belonged in Jason’s woods. They were distracted, unaware, and exactly like the counsellors that left Jason to drown those years ago.
He tilted his head, listening to the whispers brought on the wind. A voice only he could hear. His mommy, demanding Jason kill them. That he kill them all for what people like them did to him—did to her.
Jason’s hand strays toward the handle of his machete. It’s cake in blood, old and new, and though the blade was dulling, it was still plenty effective against the trespassers. He crept closer, his left eye narrowing in concentration. Yet, it was by closing this distance that he noticed something else. Rather, someone. There were five in total, but only four were the bad kind.
Trailing behind the five others, a pretty figure. A pretty person. Quiet, thoughtful, scanning the forest like it held the answers to all of life’s questions. You..
For just a second, Jason convinced himself that his cold, dead heart had kickstarted to life in his chest and beat once more. Just once, but once was enough. He tilted his head and watched you pass. Observant though you appeared, you still managed to miss Jason lurking behind the tree trunks. Not that he minded, of course; he was as natural in this landscape as the trees.
Ahead, a blonde girl in an oversized jumper—her boyfriend’s, no doubt, by the way the man beside her had his arm around her waist, holding her to his side—turned to look over her shoulder, playfully calling your name and adding, “If you keep stalling, we’ll leave you behind!”
Leave you.. behind?
This group was going to leave you? Leave you, like the counsellors had left him?
Jason had half a mind to javelin his machete through the girl’s forehead for her audacity. You were an angel—how could they leave you behind?
His mommy was right in his ear, though, soothing him.
Not yet, she would say. Not yet, my sweet Jason. You will take them soon.
He watched you hike your camping backpack higher on your shoulders, gripping the straps as you hurried to catch up with them. Even so, you seemed.. quiet. There was a gentleness to you that spoke to Jason.
You were not like the noisy, dirty, naughty trespassers of before. No. You were.. perfect for him.
A spouse, his mommy cooed in his ear. Oh, Jason, my sweet boy..
The trespassers could live, for now. After all, they had his spouse with them, and Jason’s home was in need of last minute repairs before he took you home. As he stalked away as silently as he’d come, his mind overrun with thoughts of you.
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The campfire crackles and pops, happily churning up and burning through the dry sticks and scrap bits of paper you’d fed to it. Embers fly off, the charred remains of the fire’s kindling, and float to the ground. A brief moment of glory, flying up toward the sky, before plummeting and hitting solid earth again.
“Hey, you got the campfire going!” Trent shouts from some feet away. He jogs over with a bag of doritos and a can of monster in hand, dropping to sit beside you on the log. He sets the bottom of the can down in the mud, then uses his freed hand to brush back his ashen blonde hair. He had a built of about five foot eight and he was too cocky about himself for a guy who dressed himself according to Reddit recommendations. He sighed and let the warmth of the fire wash over him for a minute before opening his mouth again.
“The trek here wasn’t so bad!” He said, as if you hadn’t been present for it. “Should’ve guessed it would be so muddy, though, huh?”
Stiffly, you nodded. In truth, you hardly knew Trent. You were here because his sister, Kylie, was your only friend and, upon hearing that you had no plans (read: stay in, sleep, maybe catch up on a hobby), she had taken it upon herself to pack your bags and lump you into a camping trip with her, her brother, and her boyfriend. There was also Trent’s best friend, and all together, you made a group of five.
Trent, unfazed by your awkwardness, pushed on with the small talk.
“Me and Daniel were thinking of exploring the woods a bit, later tonight?” He explained, like he was asking you for permission. “Y’know, to try find that abandoned campsite?”
Camp Crystal. Everyone knew the name. After a young boy—deformed, homeschooled—drowned in the lake due to negligence. Two camp counsellors in charge of watching the kids had snuck away to have sex instead. It was saddening to think how little had changed from then versus now. Socially, kids with mental or invisible disabilities were still ruthlessly bullied, or many children still died to negligence. Economically, hospitals were well informed and up-to-date with disorders, disabilities and a wide variety of ailments, meaning people were no longer ‘treated’ with shock therapy.
You had been so lost in thought that you almost didn’t notice the way your hairs had begun to prickle on the back of your neck. Almost. You sat up straight and twisted around, peering into the gloomy darkness of the treeline. By now, the rest of the group had come to sit by the campfire, so it was no surprise when Kylie put a hand on your knee and whispered, “What’re you looking for?”
The feeling dissipated, like whaever had caused it had moved on. You brushed it off; you were paranoid all the time. Other than bears, coyotes, snakes, spiders, what could be out there to harm you?
“Nothing, sorry.” You apologised. Kylie laughed to herself, moving her hand from your knee to tuck her hair behind her ear. She didn’t touch you again.
“You sure it wasn’t a high-level threat, Spider-Man?” She joked. You rolled your eyes, lightly shoving her shoulder, but you didn’t refute her. She giggled again.
“Well, if your Spidey-sense goes off tonight, me and Noah’s tent is the third from the left and we can totally ditch the tents and run if we need to, ’kay?”
With that, she got up, skipping off to join Noah on the rickety wooden bridge that led deeper into the woods. It seemed those two were sharing a romantic late-night walk—that, or about to hook up in the woods.
You only kept smiling until she was gone, immediately letting it fade afterwards. The imminent sense of danger had gone, sure, but..
You twisted around for another look at the tree line. Nothing but the faint, shifting silhouettes of trees and dead shrubbery.
You sighed. Maybe it really *was* nothing.
.
.
.
The pocket watch you brought with you reads 1:15 A.M. Outside your tent, the fire has died down to embers. You had gone to bed some time ago, but you had yet to fall asleep. The nature was a relaxing ambience, as was the lake lapping at the legs of the weathered pier, and yet its relaxing qualities felt like a facade. You’d heard Daniel and Trent leave—no doubt off on that adventure for the old Camp Crystal—but you hadn’t yet heard Noah or Kylie’s returning footsteps. They had been gone three hours! Assuming they had snuck off to have sex, why was it taking three hours?
“Y’think Noah’s struggling to keep it up?” You joked to yourself, snickering. The snap of a branch outside your tent made you shut your mouth real quick, though.
That..
That wasn’t a bird. That wasn’t an animal.
No animal made those raspy, heaving breaths, muffled by what sounded like a mask. Whoever it was.. they were trying to be quiet. They were trying to sneak up on you.
Unbidden, a genuine whimper of fear escaped your lips.
You were deep in the woods, the mud was slippy, and even if you did make it back, you didn’t have the keys to the car. You were stuck here with whatever—whoever—was outside. Your blood ran cold. The footsteps were nearly silent, but even so, you could hear the weight behind them. Strangely enough, they sounded waterlogged: like whoever it was had been swimming for too long.
The breaths faded, as did the footsteps. All at once, like taking a breath, the sounds of the woodland came back. You had barely even noticed the way you’d held your breath, your heart pounding in your cheat and how your pulse had been thundering in your ears. You had to think of a plan. Had to think about how to escape. You hadn’t intended to actually take Kylie up on the ‘drop the tents and run’ thing, but after hearing that?
Fuck the tents. You weren’t sticking around to get brutally slashed up, no way.
Your brain was blank, however, coming up with dead end after dead end. That is, except for one plan. One plan that was so, so stupid.
Yet as a shrill scream pierced the air—undoubtedly Kylie, gurgling on something before she fell silent—you figured that your stupidest plan may not be so stupid after all, and in fact, maybe your smartest.
You were up and out of the tent in seconds, taking a hard left through the dead brambles and onto the path you had walked down just a few hours prior. Was it a dick move to ditch the rest of them? Sure. At least you were self aware. You sprinted up the path with no flashlight, no coat, and only one goal in mind: escape.
More screams came from behind you, growing more and more distant as you fled. Pleas for help, some unintelligible begging.. The further you got, the quieter the voices became and the slower your running got, until you had slowed to a walk. Around you now were only the sounds of leaves rustling as the wind breezed through them, the nocturnal creatures going about their night as if nothing were amiss. Everything had escalated too fast: there had been no clean transition. No pause for you to collect yourself properly. Perhaps now was that chance.
You looked around, trying to ascertain how far you were from the car, yet the forest felt unfamiliar. The path you had been running along looked different than the one you walked; where were the low hanging branches? The yellow patch of flowers, still in their buds? This had to be the same one you walked. But what if it wasn’t?
Panic was settling in. Panic, paranoia, and nausea. You felt too exposed; the breeze which cooled the sweat on your skin also reminded you of how vulnerable you were from all angles. You felt bile creeping up your throat. Instead of letting it root you to the spot, you pushed forward. The path was different, but it had to lead out to the road. It had to.
Though their screams didn’t suggest so, you hoped the others were alright, too. The longer you walked without interruption, the less panicked you became, until your adrenaline had faded and you were hit square in the chest with just how tired you were. You paused to brace yourself against a tree and look around. Empty forest, darkened shadows..
..Had you hallucinated it all? Had your paranoia run away with you? Maybe it hadn’t been blood-curdling screams. Maybe it was something else.
You hardly noticed the way you had sank down to sit at the base of the tree, your eyelids drooping. It was so dark out here. So peaceful, and quiet, and you were so tired. The others were fine, surely? Kylie would find you.
In the distance, in the corner of your eye, you saw a figure. Further down the path, approaching slowly, like it could see how tired you were. Like it didn’t want to wake you.
..it had to be more than one person. Of course it was.
It was Kylie. She had come and found you, and she was going to scold you again for letting your paranoia run laps around her rather than find her and tell her.
Kylie..
Your eyes slipped shut, keeling to the side, drifting off into your dreams.