The woods came alive at night. As the sun slipped below the horizon, the very air seemed to hum and pulse as nocturnal creatures scurried from their dens and burrows and began their nightly sojourns. A crisp breeze carried the scent of the lake over the land, the smell damp, murky, almost alive.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought the night music to a temporary halt. The woods grew quiet as he approached. He slowed his pace, as always, taking a moment to drink in the surroundings. Fall would be here soon, he could see the leaves beginning to rust on the trees. Soon they would fall and crunch beneath his feet. As he stood motionless, the sounds of the night began to gradually return, having adjusted to his presence.

The moon was waning, its dim, almost lazy beams playing against the sheet metal of his shack. He cast an appraising look at his haphazardly constructed domicile. The roof was beginning to leak again. He would have to fix it soon, especially now that the nights were turning cooler. There was an old grey tarp he vaguely remembered seeing on one of his scavenging trips that might do the job.

That could wait, however. Jason had more important things to think about right now.

He paused before entering the shack. Perhaps it would be tonight. He held his breath as he pulled the old door open, the hinges immediately squealing their protest. Shutting the door behind him he fumbled for the box of matches he kept near the entrance. It was quiet within, too quiet. His heart sank. Tonight would not be special. But he wouldn't give up just yet, he would just have to be patient. Patience was perhaps Jason's greatest virtue, although the thought of yet another night passing without success was beginning to wear on him.

He clutched the matches tighter as he approached the too quiet, too still altar. With a shaking hand he struck a match against the box, the light sputtering at first then flaring true. He had to be sure, although the hopeful feeling that had been welling inside was already quickly fading. He held the match to one of the many candles he'd scavenged and stolen for this very purpose. The wick caught quickly, and he used this one to light the others. The smell of melting wax and acrid sulfur burnt his nose, mingling with the sickly sweet smell of decay.

He took a step back to survey his tribute to Mother. She was still as silent as she had been since that night so long ago. He'd carefully laid out her sweater and positioned her so that her blank eyes could take in the offerings he brought in hope that somehow things would go back to the way they had been so long ago.

His stomach twisted as he remembered that horrible night, that horrible girl, and Mommy's poor head… Oh god… He'd brought her back that night cursing himself for not intervening somehow, cursing himself even more for letting that wicked girl leave unscathed.

After bringing Mommy home, he'd sat with her for days, weeks perhaps. The time crept by so slowly that he felt as if he were slowly suffocating. It was like the lake all over again, only this time he was drowning in his own sorrow. As time passed the sorrow and fury festered inside him until he felt he could bear no more.

Then she had spoken.

"Jason, it's all right. You can make it better. Mommy can help you make it better. You can make her pay, you can make them all pay."

At that moment, his heart leapt as he realized exactly what he had to do. He had to find that evil girl, find her and make her pay. Then it would all be better. Mommy had said so.

And he had. He disdainfully looked down at the putrefying remains of that girl, Alice, the ice pick still protruding from her leathery head. As she had stood in the kitchen screaming at the sight of Mommy, he'd jammed the ice pick into her temple, then carried her back here to Mommy's temple where he laid her on the floor in an act of supplication. With reverence, he'd placed his mother's head back onto her altar where she could appreciate the fruits of his vengeance. After delivering his grisly offering, he'd waited expectantly, waiting for everything to get better as Mommy had said it would.

But she hadn't come back to make things better. He'd waited, and waited, and he continued to wait. For months he'd waited, and not a single word. The seasons had changed many times, and yet he was still here, waiting.

As patient as he was, he was beginning to feel as if things would never get better. Every night he'd waited for her and every night was the same. A thought came to him, something so obvious he felt foolish that he'd never considered it before.

Perhaps it didn't end with that girl. Mommy had told him that they all would pay…

That tiny flicker of hope raged high within him. Of course, Alice was only the beginning. There were more people that needed to pay, more bad people just like her, just like the ones that his mother had seen fit to punish. He would find them, and he would kill them as well. Maybe when they were all dead and lying at his mother's altar just like Alice she would return, and they could finally be together again. He couldn't help but smile underneath the cloth covering his face, already thinking of how proud Mommy would be of him for figuring this out on his own.

He wouldn't have to wait much longer. He could feel it in his bones.