Jason Voorhees entered his underground tunnel with the lifeless body a woman draped over his shoulder. She looked like a child compared to his hulking form. Roughly he let her drop on a dirty stained mattress and shackled her up with sturdy iron chains. From the moment the shackles clicked shut however, he knew this was a bad idea, a very bad idea. He knew that he just should have killed her like all the others. By keeping this woman alive he was in for trouble. Jason let out a deep frustrated growl, as he sat down at his abrasive block and started to sharpen his machete. As so often, the entrancing act of sharpening his blade brought back memories. This time however the images flashing before his eyes, were not of his mother's death. He remembered the other girl he had brought here. A young adult, that had reminded him so much of his beloved mother. And though he had intended to do her no harm, the girl kept screaming and crying every time he was near and ultimately she escaped, reunited with her brother and nearly killed him. He glanced over to the girl he had captured. What would she do to him? Would she be a wailing banshee as well? Would she try to kill him? He doubted that she would be able to inflict serious harm on him, seeing that she was no taller than 5'4" and looked frail. He even doubted, that she would last long and waste away rather quickly. The other girl had been stronger and more resilient.
He sighed. What was he thinking? True. It had felt good to have another living, breathing being with him for a time, though she was ultimately annoying. But he had been alone for countless years, that sometimes he just yearned for company, yearned for someone, who would speak to him. He missed the soft voice of his mother and how she used to read stories to him. Maybe he hoped, that he could relive this experience, he didn't know.
His new prisoner stirred and slowly woke up. Disorientated she sat up and rubbed her aching head, gradually getting aware that she was bound to a damp, stained and smelly mattress in an dirty underground lair. With big frightened eyes she looked up, straight at him. Jason stood, slowly moving towards her. She scrambled away from him, until her back connected with the wall and started to tremble violently. Surprisingly however she didn't made a sound. That intrigued the hockey-masked killer, as he cocked his head to the side and regarded her with a curious look. Now in the light of his lair, he could see that she looked nothing like the other one. When he first saw her in the dark of his forest, he somewhat was reminded of the banshee girl. Maybe that was the reason he stayed his hand then. But looking at her now, the illusion was broken and again he had to ask himself, why he stayed his hand. Her body looked frail and week, her hair reached only a bit over her shoulder and had a light brown colour. If he remembered correctly the other girl's hair was reddish. But what captured him the most were her big blue eyes. Eyes, that looked not only scared, but incredibly sad as well. Slowly Jason stalked closer to her, trying not to intimidate her by his sheer size, but failed miserably. She froze, looking up at him with those big eyes. He grabbed her jaw, turning her head from one side to the other, to get an even better look at her. She pressed her eyes shut in terror, yet there was no sound coming out of her, as she bit her lips. Jason frowned beneath his mask. Was she a mute, he wondered. Why didn't she scream? What was wrong with her? He shook her for good measure, trying to get a reaction out of her. Tears escaped her eyes running down her cheeks and wetting his hand, yet she choked out only stifled sobs. With growing frustration he let go of her and headed out. He needed to be outside, checking his traps and hoping that he had his camp cleared out thoroughly.
Two days later Jason was no wiser as he had been on the day he bought that girl into his home. She hadn't spoken a word yet and by now Jason was nearly sure that she couldn't talk at all. But what he found more unnerving than her eerie silence was her gaze. She was always watching him, following his every move. There was a creepy kind of intelligence behind her gaze as if she was waiting for something, plotting and brooding. And again Jason got the feeling, that he had made a big mistake in bringing her here. Made him wonder if he had brought his own demise into his lair. He looked over to her, relieved that she was sleeping. For once he was the one watching and brooding from his place behind the abrasion block. He was startled out of his thoughts however as she started to twist and turn in her sleep. It was obvious that she was having nightmare. Jason leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees with interest. She started moaning, as she twisted her head from side to side. Soon her moaning turned into mumbling and then screaming. Jason cocked his head to the side. This was almost painful to watch, even more though since she constantly cried out for her mother in her sleep. That was something he could relate to. There had been a time, when he had done the same, but that was long ago. She sat up with a start and with a last loud:
"Mommy!"
Jason jumped to his feet as well, startled by her sudden movement. Silently he walked over to her as she looked around dazed. As she got aware of her surroundings, she hugged her knees tight to her chest, burying her face into the nest her arms created and started to cry. She cried so hard, her whole body shook violently. Jason looked down at her and for the first time in all his years, he felt something for another person, that wasn't involved with killing. Slowly he bent down and lightly brushed his fingers against her shoulder. She flinched, looking up at him with reddened eyes, before moving out of his reach. Jason straightened up, feeling his old anger rising. That's what he got for showing compassion for another human? He growled, before storming out of his basement. He needed to cool off.
He didn't see the woman's eyes follow him.
She watched his back retreat wiping her eyes furiously. She hadn't intended for breaking down this way, but her recurring nightmare had dug up the very painful memories she tried to cope with the last couple of weeks. In her dreams she relived finding her mother dead in her flat over and over again. Saw the distorted face, a grimace of pain that was edged in her memories forever. It had been a heart attack, but that didn't make it easier for her. She touched her shoulder and for a moment she felt his light touch linger. She knew he had meant her no harm, even though she was well aware of whom he was. For a moment she felt bad that she had rewarded his attempt to comfort her with a literal cold shoulder. She sighed. She had to get out of here somehow. Initially she was surprised and glad that he hadn't killed her right on the spot, but the longer she stayed in his custody the more she was afraid that he might get tired of her. Her gaze fell on the floor, a long moment staring sightlessly until she got aware of the thin piece of wire lying just in reach. A spark of hope lit her features up, as she reached a shaking hand out and grabbed the wire. She fumbled with the lock of her handcuffs, cursing silently under her breath. This always worked in the movies, so it just had to work here! And then suddenly she heard a click and the handcuff sprang open. The first smile in weeks appeared on her face as the other side soon followed. Shakily she stood up. Now that she was free, she just had to find a way out of what she guessed was a maze of underground tunnels. Silently she crept along the tunnels until she came across a weathered ladder that led upstairs. Carefully she pushed the wooden lit, that covered up the entrance, open a crack and was met with a cold gush of fresh air. Jason was nowhere to be seen, so she got a bit more bold and crawled out of the hole. It was night time already as she slowly walked away from the camp. She knew, she should run for her life, but she just hadn't any strength left. Two days of rarely eating and drinking, and being in constant fear just left her drained.
That was until she heard the rustling of leaves behind her followed by heavy footsteps. She turned around wide-eyed, only to be met with Jason's intimidating figure. The killer stood in the middle of the camp, staring at her through the black holes of his hockey-mask, she could feel his gaze on her. The sparse light made his fluffy tufts of blonde strands that hung around his head seem like a weird distorted halo. She saw him tense up before a visible jolt went through him. In one quick motion, he let go of the bag he was holding and pulled out the machete from the sheath he had around his left thigh. She gulped and turned around to take off into the wood. She heard his rapid footsteps behind her, as he was crashing through the woods. She knew, that she stood no change against him at all. She was exhausted, and never fit to begin with, while he just looked like a born athlete. She could as well give up and get it over with quickly, sparing her the pain of torment. Yet her adrenalin rush pushed her on. The steps behind her got louder as he closed on her quickly. And then she heard a loud metallic clap, followed by a dry snapping sound, she heard a grunting sound and then a loud thud. And then there was silence.
Against her better judgement, she stopped and turned around, her heart pounding loud in her ears. Her eyes widened as she saw his figure face down in the dirt. That wasn't how it was supposed to be, he shouldn't be the one to stumble and fall. She took a step closer, her hands clasped together in front of her chest, as if that gesture could force her racing heart to slow down. He had lost his machete, it stuck out of the dirt just out of his reach. She quickly took hold of its hilt and pulled it out. The weapon was surprisingly heavy, yet lay good in her hand. Another step closer. Jason moved, pushing him up on his arms, looking up. A moment he just stared at her, waiting for her to hurt him, to stab him with his blade, just like the other one. But she just stared back at him, with those unnerving pale eyes. He lashed out with his hand, trying to get a hold on her foot, just to wince in pain. Almost surprised he turned around, to see his foot caught in one of his own bear-traps. The sharp teeth of the trap were deeply embedded into his flesh and by the looks his bone was snapped in half cleanly. He cursed himself. How could he be so careless and step into his own trap? He caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes. His head snapped up to see her step around him, still just out of reach. She held his machete in a firm grip. Jason looked up at her in anticipation. He was sure, she would kill him now. It was always the same. People came here and died and those few who fought back always tried to end him. He silently cursed the day he had laid eyes on her, cursed the notion that made him stay his hand and bring her to his home. He had known that this was a very bad idea. He braced himself, waiting for the pain, the blade would inflict on him. But she just let the machete drop to the ground and turned away. Turned to leave him behind broken and in pain. Again Jason cursed himself for his carelessness as he reached for the metal jaws that held his leg prisoner only to stop, as he felt her gaze. She had stopped, looking back at him and something in her big blue eyes changed. She heaved a heavy sigh, looking over her shoulder into the forest a last time, before she came back and knelt down in front of him. It would have been easy for Jason to grab her now and break her neck, but he was curious of what she would do. He just stared at her, watching her every move. Slowly she reached a trembling hand out for his injured leg, lightly brushing her fingers over his shin, just above the trap inspecting the wound swiftly and with a confidence that made clear, that she had done so before. Jason cocked his head to the side in wonder. Why hadn't she run away into safety, he wouldn't be able to follow her. She just passed every chance of survival by staying here and helping him. Her eyes flickered up to his and she swallowed hard, for the first time she broke her silence.
"Try not to move, you're leg is broken. I try to get you out of that thing."
She said in an unsteady low yet soft voice. He just stared at her, unmoving, confused. Her slender hands clamped around the jaws of the trap and she strained to pull them apart. It filled him with slight amusement to see her battle with that contraption. He knew, that it would be impossible for her to force them apart, she clearly was not strong enough. Yet, he still was surprised to see, that she was trying to help him, even though he was about to kill her just moments ago, that was something new. No one had ever showed him pity.
She growled in frustration, then her gaze fell on the machete. Her eyes lit up a moment, and he was afraid, that she would cut his leg off, but she used the weapon like a lever, finally being able to free his injured leg. Though in pain, Jason moved his dangling limb out of the trap, before the jaws clenched shut violently again.
Why? Why was she doing this? He watched her, as she ripped her already shredded sleeves from her longsleeve shirt. Lining to sturdy branches on each side of his broken leg, she tightly bound them together with the ribbons, creating an improvisatory cast. She stood up then, holding a hand out to him.
"Come. I'll help you back to the cabin."
The way back to the cabins was painstakingly slow, as he limped along, having to support his weights on her tiny frame.
She had him lie down on a bed, lining the broken bones out in a quick movement and wrapping it up professionally. When she was done, she brought a bit more distance between them, sitting down on the far end of the bed. Jason felt awkward. He couldn't understand why she had helped him. He wouldn't have thought twice about killing her. But what confused him even more was the fact, that she stayed with him, though she still seemed frightened. He looked up to meet the gaze of her sad blue eyes. Why was she always so sad?
"I'm sorry."
she said, looking down at her slender hands.
"I didn't mean for that to happen. I just wanted to go..."
She stopped. To go where? Home? That bleak, lonely confinement of a flat that only brought painful memories? She sighed, wiping a stray tear away. To be honest, she had hitched a hike in the first place, because she wanted to get out of that place she once called home. That she met a group of horny teenagers had just been a coincidence. She looked up again, to see his head cocked to the side in question. A thin smile appeared on her tired face and without giving him an answer she stood up.
"I'm really tired."
His eyes never left her retreating form, as she crawled into another bunk, draping a thin blanket over her, she curled herself into a tight ball. Soon her evened out breathing told Jason that she was fast asleep. He watched her sleep until he drifted off into a deep slumber himself.
Jason woke with a start late next morning. For a moment he was wondering if he had just dreamed the events of the night before. Yet the bandages on his leg told him otherwise. His gaze flickered over to the bunk bed, where the girl had slept in. She was gone, the sheet cleanly folded. Jason let out a frustrated growl, realising that she must have snug away in the early morning hours. He sighed, running his hand over the bandages. She had been so careful treating his injury, he almost could feel her warm hands linger. Had to admit to himself, that he had actually enjoyed her company, enjoyed her light and gentle touch. Had to admit, that for once he wanted to know more about her. And then again he regretted bringing her here. He swung his legs out of the bed and carefully stood up. Though it was still sore and he would be limping for a couple of days, his leg was able to support his weight. He had always healed fast. On the threshold of the cabin he turned and looked back to the bed she had slept in, realising that she had been able to hurt him more than he thought. He made a silent vow, never to keep anyone alive ever again.