Teaser: Guys, I'm not really into Friday the 13th, but I figured I'd try anyway...just a teaser so far.
(This is also dedicated to Preformanceklokdethklok; she pushed me to do this story for a while now...THANKS BUDDY YOUR DOKKENTASTIC! Lol...)
Thump, Thump, Thump...Whack!
A shadow played over the door's thresh hold, amplified by the setting sun.
Camp Crystal Lake was stunning at dusk.
The door layed on the ground splintered in tiny pieces
The shadow appeared to large to fit into the three room cabin comfortably, but it's caster walked inside slowly.
Surprisingly, this person was light on their feet.
The shadow danced over the grimy walls of the cabin, which wasn't illuminated adequately enough for any normal person to see by.
Perphaps, we'll be fair and say this person only had to sense things; Sight isn't always nesessary.
The figure picked to the rooms toward the back of the cabin.
At last, after several minutes of paced walking, the person reached a secluded bedroom.
A beat up, weather scarred bed stood soggily to the side.
Beyond that, there was no other furniture.
The shadow flicked across the floor mirroring the caster's movements perfectly.
Heavy breathing, lungs filling with huge amounts of air...
The air was thick in antisipation.
A closet was opened reavealing at the bottom a light wooden box.
The designs that sprawled over the wet oak wood were complicated and wound endlessly over the top and sides.
The caster bent down quickly, retreiving the box, and clutched it to their chest like it was a priceless gem, for which no other could constitute.
After a moment of silent remembrance they almost wistfully tossed it on the bed.
The caster sat on their knees, caressing the box itself.
This too, proved tiring after a while and the caster discarded the box's lid all together.
Inside velvet and memories collided as one.
The caster pulled out a gray and white photograph, staring lovingly at the man and boy in the picture...
(So, do you guys like it thus far? If this goes over well, consider this a prolouge!)