He strolled amongst the trees, still clutching the head in his hand, the
warm sun beating down on his sodden body. However, for someone like him,
such discomforts didn't really cause much trouble: he was undead after all.
One thing that was beginning to annoy him, though, was the annoying voice
coming from the head in his hand.
"You think you've won, but your wrong," he was shouting, desperately, "you think I'm never gonna come back, but you know it's not true. I always come back! Always!"
Jason carried on silently through the wood, paying no heed to Freddy's ramblings. He'd been shouting at him since they emerged from the infamous Crystal Lake, going on and on about how people will always sing Jason's praises as the winner, when it was in fact Freddy the winner. Jason ignored his fellow maniac. For him, the victor was not important. He only felt that what he was about to do, was right.
"Oh yes! They'll debate it for century's kid! Mark my words! In a few years they'll all know that it was me who won, when I'm back here slaughtering countless teens, while you rot at the bottom of your stinking lake!"
The sun was beginning to set, and Jason had found himself in the centre of the forest that he had become so accustomed to, the dense forest that surrounded Camp Crystal Lake, otherwise known as Camp Blood. And there, standing as it had done for the years he had hidden away from the public, before taking his revenge on the world for the death of his beloved mother, was the decrepit cabin that had housed him for so long.
He released his fingers from around the burned scalp of Freddy, causing him to drop the head face first in to a pile of muddied leaves. The bump was satisfying for Jason, and if he had the heart to do so, he would probably have smiled – maybe even laughed – as Freddy's coarse cursing came out as muffled cries. Strolling over to the cabin, he slid his trusty machete into a hole near the door, before turning to a pile of mangled tools. Amongst the rusted items was a sturdy shovel. Finding some fertile land, he began to dig.
Darkness had fallen. The pale moonlight illuminated the spot were Jason was creating the grave. After much struggling, Freddy had managed to turn himself over in his head-only form.
"Your crazy if you think that's gonna hold me boy!" he gloated. "I've come back after much worse. They tried to burn, but I came back! They tried holy water, but I came back! They even got my own kid to do the job, but I still keep on coming back! There is nothing you can do that they ain't tried before!" At this Freddy began to laugh, almost hysterically, though it was impossible not to sense the aura of forced sarcasm in his voice. The fact is, fear himself, was afraid.
Jason's hulking mass pulled himself out of the pit he had dug, which was about five foot deep. He strolled over to were Freddy's head lay, and took the shaking mass into his hands.
"Don't do this Jason!" He finally pleaded. "If you can help me get back, we could be the best killer team ever! Me and you, in arms, getting rid of all that teenage scum! Think about it for a minute! Come on Jason! Everyone has fights! Its better that we got ours over with early! Now we can have the strongest business relationship of all! I kill the guys; you get the scantily clad girls!"
His pleads were desperate, and Jason paid them no heed as he tossed the jabbering head into the hole. Freddy lay face up, looking out of the hole at Jason's hulking silhouette in front of the moonlight. Freddy, resigned to his fate, burst into anger.
"They'll get you Jason! Just wait! One day, they will get you! And you won't be able to come back, because you'll always be there! Trapped! They will catch you, because you just ain't clever enough! They'll catch you! And when I do return, I'll laugh Jason! I'll l...."
His mouth became clogged with dry soil, as Jason began to fill the hole back up again. Freddy's last words before the mud drowned him out may have been his final, most desperate pleads. But Jason neither knew nor cared. At last, he was back. He had removed one roadblock, the evil that had used him. Jason's punishment was his own. He cared not for Freddy's methods. And even if he did, the fact that his mother's image was used to do so angered him. His hate for Freddy was eternal, but this past couple of days had renewed his taste for blood.
Whatever happened to Freddy, one fact couldn't be denied: Jason was back!
"You think you've won, but your wrong," he was shouting, desperately, "you think I'm never gonna come back, but you know it's not true. I always come back! Always!"
Jason carried on silently through the wood, paying no heed to Freddy's ramblings. He'd been shouting at him since they emerged from the infamous Crystal Lake, going on and on about how people will always sing Jason's praises as the winner, when it was in fact Freddy the winner. Jason ignored his fellow maniac. For him, the victor was not important. He only felt that what he was about to do, was right.
"Oh yes! They'll debate it for century's kid! Mark my words! In a few years they'll all know that it was me who won, when I'm back here slaughtering countless teens, while you rot at the bottom of your stinking lake!"
The sun was beginning to set, and Jason had found himself in the centre of the forest that he had become so accustomed to, the dense forest that surrounded Camp Crystal Lake, otherwise known as Camp Blood. And there, standing as it had done for the years he had hidden away from the public, before taking his revenge on the world for the death of his beloved mother, was the decrepit cabin that had housed him for so long.
He released his fingers from around the burned scalp of Freddy, causing him to drop the head face first in to a pile of muddied leaves. The bump was satisfying for Jason, and if he had the heart to do so, he would probably have smiled – maybe even laughed – as Freddy's coarse cursing came out as muffled cries. Strolling over to the cabin, he slid his trusty machete into a hole near the door, before turning to a pile of mangled tools. Amongst the rusted items was a sturdy shovel. Finding some fertile land, he began to dig.
Darkness had fallen. The pale moonlight illuminated the spot were Jason was creating the grave. After much struggling, Freddy had managed to turn himself over in his head-only form.
"Your crazy if you think that's gonna hold me boy!" he gloated. "I've come back after much worse. They tried to burn, but I came back! They tried holy water, but I came back! They even got my own kid to do the job, but I still keep on coming back! There is nothing you can do that they ain't tried before!" At this Freddy began to laugh, almost hysterically, though it was impossible not to sense the aura of forced sarcasm in his voice. The fact is, fear himself, was afraid.
Jason's hulking mass pulled himself out of the pit he had dug, which was about five foot deep. He strolled over to were Freddy's head lay, and took the shaking mass into his hands.
"Don't do this Jason!" He finally pleaded. "If you can help me get back, we could be the best killer team ever! Me and you, in arms, getting rid of all that teenage scum! Think about it for a minute! Come on Jason! Everyone has fights! Its better that we got ours over with early! Now we can have the strongest business relationship of all! I kill the guys; you get the scantily clad girls!"
His pleads were desperate, and Jason paid them no heed as he tossed the jabbering head into the hole. Freddy lay face up, looking out of the hole at Jason's hulking silhouette in front of the moonlight. Freddy, resigned to his fate, burst into anger.
"They'll get you Jason! Just wait! One day, they will get you! And you won't be able to come back, because you'll always be there! Trapped! They will catch you, because you just ain't clever enough! They'll catch you! And when I do return, I'll laugh Jason! I'll l...."
His mouth became clogged with dry soil, as Jason began to fill the hole back up again. Freddy's last words before the mud drowned him out may have been his final, most desperate pleads. But Jason neither knew nor cared. At last, he was back. He had removed one roadblock, the evil that had used him. Jason's punishment was his own. He cared not for Freddy's methods. And even if he did, the fact that his mother's image was used to do so angered him. His hate for Freddy was eternal, but this past couple of days had renewed his taste for blood.
Whatever happened to Freddy, one fact couldn't be denied: Jason was back!