PROLOGUE
July 13, 1981
She was eleven years old. She had never had anyone to care for her. Abandoned at birth, left to founder in an orphanage, finally adopted at the age of 8; her adoptive parents, however, saw her as little more than a means to receive grant money from the government. They provided for her basic needs, but emotional attachment was out of the question. Not that it bothered her; on the contrary, she didn't care one way or the other. There was never any getting close to her, even if they had tried. She had no friends; children at school shunned her. She didn't mind. They left her alone, too frightened to even bully her or call her names. No one bothered her; the incident on the playground when she had broken a boy's arm was still fresh in everyone's memory.
Today, those children would hear the news from their parents, eavesdropping on phone calls made in hushed tones. They would hear the news about their strange schoolmate, the one who never spoke, the one who ate lunch alone, the one whom the teacher never called on. They would hear the news and not be really surprised. If anyone would do such a thing, it would be her.
The girl was found standing in front of her burning house, just standing and watching the flames leap into the air. Police and fire personnel thought she was in shock at first; only by trying to talk to her did they find out what really happened.
"I killed them," the girl said, her voice inflectionless. She could have been talking about the weather.
"Who?" the police officer asked, clearly puzzled.
"The ones who adopted me. They're in the house. I killed them and set the house on fire."
The officer took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at the girl, at her flawless pale skin and her deep green eyes. Her hair was a stunning shade of red...but there was strands of pure white throughout her hair. She would be beautiful as an adult. But her eyes, as pretty as they were, were empty. Her face showed no emotion. Her voice was flat.
"You killed your parents?" The girl turned to look at him, dead green eyes boring into his own.
"They weren't my parents. They were leeches. I was nothing to them. And they were nothing to me. Killing them was easy. Killing anyone would be easy. Nothing to it."
Her words chilled him as much as her voice and eyes did. He wanted to understand just what the hell was going on here.
"Where are your parents then? Your real parents?" The girl made the tiniest shrug.
"My mother is dead. My father...he's out there. Somewhere. I have a brother too, he's much older than I am."
The officer frowned at her slightly. "If you have other family, why didn't you try to go to them, instead of doing something like this?"
The girl stared at him for a long moment. "My father doesn't hang around for long. He has...business...to attend to. And my brother...well, he can't be bothered with me. Like I said, he's much older than I am. But he's brainless. Like a child. What could he do to help me?"
"What's your brother's name? Maybe I could talk to him and..." The officer trailed off; the girl was looking at him with something close to amusement.
"You? Talk to my brother? You could surely try, Officer, but he doesn't talk much. In fact, he doesn't speak at all. I guess drowning in the lake had something to do with that."
Drowning in the lake? Why did that ring a bell? The officer, exasperated, knelt down beside the girl. "Look, I've had enough with the cryptic bullshit, young lady. What's your brother's name?"
The girl turned back to look at the fire; the words she spoke next turned his blood to ice in his veins.
"My brother's name is Jason. Jason Voorhees. My mother was Pamela, my father Elias. I was dropped off like so much garbage to the orphanage and then adopted by the two wastes of oxygen currently being barbecued in front of us. I made sure they suffered first, though. They suffered quite a bit."
The girl fell silent and the officer stood up, staring at her. He finally spoke, asking the only thing he could think of. "What's your name?"
"Elizabeth," the girl said quietly. "Elizabeth Christine Voorhees."
