Freddy Vs Jason 2:
Hail to the King
Chapter 1: The Calling
"My name is Ash. It's been years but I still remember it like it was yesterday. The cabin, the book, Linda, Annie, the vortex, and the army of the dead. I try to forget it all but it sticks to the corners of my mind like ugly on a deadite. When I got back I thought it was all over. Big mistake. Somehow the presence of the Necronomicon survived in the here and now and with it all the bad luck that seems to follow me.
The occasional deadite would show up every now and then but it was nothing the old double barrel couldn't handle. The problem was I could never figure out where they were coming from. If there's deadites that means the Necronomicon cant be too far off. That damn book always finds a way to worm itself into my life.
It's gotten me paranoid. Some would say insane. But you try chopping up your girlfriend that's been possessed by a demonic spirit with a chainsaw and lets see if you're still flowers and rainbows.
But now there's something else. I can feel it. It's the same feeling I got back at that cabin. The feeling that someone is walking over my grave. It used to just be in my dreams but now I can't even sleep. There's someone or something after the Necronomicon. Past experience tells me that if I don't do something fast history will repeat itself. I can't stand by and turn my head away this time. I have to find that book before someone else does."
Camp Crystal Lake . . .
The lightening cracked across the blood soaked sky. The two teens were in a panic, racing through the swampy, overgrown flora and fauna, dodging thick moss-covered trees, running for their lives. The only sound louder than their erratic breathing and their boots splashing into the mud was that of the thundering booms following them. Each time their stalker took a step it was like a bass drum in their ears.
But the next sound they heard was sort of like a whirling noise. Like when someone spins a baton in the air. It would be the last sound one of them would ever hear. A rusted machete flew out from the darkness behind them, spinning. It sliced the teen across the top of his back, through his shoulders, and out his chest. His bottom half lost it's balance and fell forward immediately while his top half jetted out and tumbled in the air before it thumped in the wet ground with a splash of crimson.
The tip of the machete had caught the other teen in the arm and took it off. His knees hit the ground as the blood shot out turning the green and blue moss under him red. He screamed out in pain and fell on his side. The booming became louder and louder and suddenly the ground started to shake. A large boot covered in grime and rot came crashing down in the puddle next to the teen. He looked up at the monster that had found them trespassing in his shack. He was a juggernaut. Over seven feet tall wearing torn and tattered clothing that had been caked in dirt, mold, and gore and an old dirty hockey mask covering his face. There was nothing inside the eyes of the mask. Just blackness.
The monster stared down at his weeping victim. He reached down and easily took the boys entire head into his hand. He lifted him into the air as his screams of terror pierced the night. With his only hand left the boy started to beat the side of the monster's arm holding him. But it was no good.
The monster tightened his grip around the boy's head as his screams grew louder and higher pitched. His skull began to crack and the side of his head bursted open releasing brain matter onto the bushes and the monster's fingers.
He loosened his grip until the boy's limp body fell to the mud. He tilted his head, looking down on his accomplishment.
"Very nice. But you still ain't got no style." said a voice. It was a horrible, deep, rumbling, cracking, gurgling voice. Like someone's vocal cords had been mangled.
The monster had heard that voice before. He turned his head to see a man leaning against a tree, staring at him. It was a burnt man. Like his skin had melted and hardened again. It was a man in a red and green sweater and a dirty brown hat. It was a man with long, sharp razors for fingers. It was Freddy.
"Hey Jason." said Freddy coldly as he waved with one bladed finger.
Jason hated this man. He hated him for what he had done and how he used him. How he had used his mother. He lumbered towards Freddy with a fist raised in the air, ready to rip him apart again. Freddy stood still, smirking and staring coldly. Jason brought his fist down. It passed right through Freddy's face and crashed into the tree behind him. Freddy laughed as Jason ripped his hand free of the tree. There was now a giant gaping hole in it but Freddy remained unharmed.
"Did you forget Jason? My body was destroyed. You still have my head on a stick sitting in front of that shithole you call a house with my mouth hanging open like a fucking mailbox!" Freddy's voice became harsher as he stood straight and waved his arms franticly. Jason simply stood there in confusion.
"I can't come back to the real world unless someone brings me here. The only reason I can still haunt you when you're awake is because your mind is so fucked up you can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality!"
Jason knew Freddy couldn't hurt him unless he was asleep, which he never is unless badly injured. He could only make words and yell at him.
"You know, I've been killed more times than I care to count but you're the only one who has ever gotten under my skin. I'm not going to let you steal my glory. I'll find a way to beat you. Whether you're awake or asleep I'll find a way you fucking retard!"
Jason turned away, ignoring him. He walked back toward his shack, stepping on the corpse of a teenage boy, uncaring of the loud ghost behind him.
The lightening shredded the sky and bursts of blue light splashed across the swamp as Freddy stood there watching Jason. With the most evil of looks he grumbled to himself. "That's right, Jason. Just walk away from me. I will have your head the same as you had mine. You have no idea what you're in for. I've found the Necronomicon. And once I have it, I'm coming for you."
To Be Continued . . .
(Author's Note: Yeah, it was short. Just a teaser. The next chapters will be longer. Ash has become more paranoid than ever and returns to the cabin in the woods, hoping to find clues that will lead him to the Necronomicon. He's come well prepared and it's a good thing too because he'll run into a familiar face, only uglier.)
Chapter 1: The Calling
"My name is Ash. It's been years but I still remember it like it was yesterday. The cabin, the book, Linda, Annie, the vortex, and the army of the dead. I try to forget it all but it sticks to the corners of my mind like ugly on a deadite. When I got back I thought it was all over. Big mistake. Somehow the presence of the Necronomicon survived in the here and now and with it all the bad luck that seems to follow me.
The occasional deadite would show up every now and then but it was nothing the old double barrel couldn't handle. The problem was I could never figure out where they were coming from. If there's deadites that means the Necronomicon cant be too far off. That damn book always finds a way to worm itself into my life.
It's gotten me paranoid. Some would say insane. But you try chopping up your girlfriend that's been possessed by a demonic spirit with a chainsaw and lets see if you're still flowers and rainbows.
But now there's something else. I can feel it. It's the same feeling I got back at that cabin. The feeling that someone is walking over my grave. It used to just be in my dreams but now I can't even sleep. There's someone or something after the Necronomicon. Past experience tells me that if I don't do something fast history will repeat itself. I can't stand by and turn my head away this time. I have to find that book before someone else does."
Camp Crystal Lake . . .
The lightening cracked across the blood soaked sky. The two teens were in a panic, racing through the swampy, overgrown flora and fauna, dodging thick moss-covered trees, running for their lives. The only sound louder than their erratic breathing and their boots splashing into the mud was that of the thundering booms following them. Each time their stalker took a step it was like a bass drum in their ears.
But the next sound they heard was sort of like a whirling noise. Like when someone spins a baton in the air. It would be the last sound one of them would ever hear. A rusted machete flew out from the darkness behind them, spinning. It sliced the teen across the top of his back, through his shoulders, and out his chest. His bottom half lost it's balance and fell forward immediately while his top half jetted out and tumbled in the air before it thumped in the wet ground with a splash of crimson.
The tip of the machete had caught the other teen in the arm and took it off. His knees hit the ground as the blood shot out turning the green and blue moss under him red. He screamed out in pain and fell on his side. The booming became louder and louder and suddenly the ground started to shake. A large boot covered in grime and rot came crashing down in the puddle next to the teen. He looked up at the monster that had found them trespassing in his shack. He was a juggernaut. Over seven feet tall wearing torn and tattered clothing that had been caked in dirt, mold, and gore and an old dirty hockey mask covering his face. There was nothing inside the eyes of the mask. Just blackness.
The monster stared down at his weeping victim. He reached down and easily took the boys entire head into his hand. He lifted him into the air as his screams of terror pierced the night. With his only hand left the boy started to beat the side of the monster's arm holding him. But it was no good.
The monster tightened his grip around the boy's head as his screams grew louder and higher pitched. His skull began to crack and the side of his head bursted open releasing brain matter onto the bushes and the monster's fingers.
He loosened his grip until the boy's limp body fell to the mud. He tilted his head, looking down on his accomplishment.
"Very nice. But you still ain't got no style." said a voice. It was a horrible, deep, rumbling, cracking, gurgling voice. Like someone's vocal cords had been mangled.
The monster had heard that voice before. He turned his head to see a man leaning against a tree, staring at him. It was a burnt man. Like his skin had melted and hardened again. It was a man in a red and green sweater and a dirty brown hat. It was a man with long, sharp razors for fingers. It was Freddy.
"Hey Jason." said Freddy coldly as he waved with one bladed finger.
Jason hated this man. He hated him for what he had done and how he used him. How he had used his mother. He lumbered towards Freddy with a fist raised in the air, ready to rip him apart again. Freddy stood still, smirking and staring coldly. Jason brought his fist down. It passed right through Freddy's face and crashed into the tree behind him. Freddy laughed as Jason ripped his hand free of the tree. There was now a giant gaping hole in it but Freddy remained unharmed.
"Did you forget Jason? My body was destroyed. You still have my head on a stick sitting in front of that shithole you call a house with my mouth hanging open like a fucking mailbox!" Freddy's voice became harsher as he stood straight and waved his arms franticly. Jason simply stood there in confusion.
"I can't come back to the real world unless someone brings me here. The only reason I can still haunt you when you're awake is because your mind is so fucked up you can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality!"
Jason knew Freddy couldn't hurt him unless he was asleep, which he never is unless badly injured. He could only make words and yell at him.
"You know, I've been killed more times than I care to count but you're the only one who has ever gotten under my skin. I'm not going to let you steal my glory. I'll find a way to beat you. Whether you're awake or asleep I'll find a way you fucking retard!"
Jason turned away, ignoring him. He walked back toward his shack, stepping on the corpse of a teenage boy, uncaring of the loud ghost behind him.
The lightening shredded the sky and bursts of blue light splashed across the swamp as Freddy stood there watching Jason. With the most evil of looks he grumbled to himself. "That's right, Jason. Just walk away from me. I will have your head the same as you had mine. You have no idea what you're in for. I've found the Necronomicon. And once I have it, I'm coming for you."
To Be Continued . . .
(Author's Note: Yeah, it was short. Just a teaser. The next chapters will be longer. Ash has become more paranoid than ever and returns to the cabin in the woods, hoping to find clues that will lead him to the Necronomicon. He's come well prepared and it's a good thing too because he'll run into a familiar face, only uglier.)