Chris Higgins stood outside of the bathroom door of her mother and father's summer cabin, Higgins' Haven. Thin perspiration glistened lightly on the smooth skin of her young face which wore a look of absolute fear.
A hockey mask wearing maniac was downstairs, armed with a large lumberjack axe. And he was coming after her, no doubt.
Chris could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "Keep it together," she thought to herself as a strategy formed in her mind. She shut the door to the bathroom, and crept almost silently toward the closet door on the opposite end of the hallway. "He'll most likely search the bathroom first, then Shelly's room. Poor Shelly." Chris snapped out of it." When he goes into Shelly's room, I'll make a dash for it!"
Jason stood up from the floor of the cozy cabin. Many random hardcover books lay scattered around his big, menacing presence. He gripped the axe firmly in a bloody hand. Not his own blood. He looked up toward the top of the stairs.
He would spill more blood. The blood of the young girl, now a woman, whom he recognized from that night, two years ago. The girl with the long, brown hair and brown eyes. The girl who had escaped him once. Tonight, she would not escape. He would get her. He felt a great deal more determined than usual. This one was clever. Smart. Jason approached the stairs.
The heavy books that had fallen on his head earlier had stunned him a bit, bringing him to his knees. That was ok. She could run, but she couldn't hide. He started up the steps of the winding staircase.
The lock of the closet door clicked into place, courtesy of Chris. She knelt down to the floor, peering through the keyhole. The hallway was empty and the only sound that Chris could hear, was the howling wind outside. She moved further back into the closet, looking around her. The thought of hiding behind the hanging clothing crossed her mind. She quickly dismissed the idea. A weapon of some kind would serve her much better.
Chris reached up and pulled away a few articles of clothing... revealing the bloody corpse of her best friend, Debbie, dressed only in a bloodstained bathrobe.. She saw, in utter horror, that a kitchen knife had been crudely pierced through her throat.
A sudden, quick scream escaped from Chris as Debbie's propped up corpse fell over, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The woman's hand closed over her mouth, as Chris realized her fatal mistake.
She looked back down at her best friend laying beside her as Chris knelt on the closet floor, "Not Debbie. Her baby..." Inside of Chris, a boiling rage was beginning to emerge. "That bastard," she thought to herself, also thinking that this was not the time to grieve, Chris reached over the body and peered through the keyhole a final time. What she glimpsed made her shrink back in terror, gasping as she did so.
Jason reached the top of the stairs, stepping on the soaked wood floor. He pushed the door open which lead to the hallway of the bedrooms and single bath. He stepped toward the bathroom, intending to enter. A woman's scream filled the air. A short scream. Like a scream of surprise,or shock perhaps.
Gripping the axe, Jason followed the scream. The closet at the end of the hallway. As he moved closer, gasps could be heard coming from inside. She was in there. Trapped. He had her now. She wouldn't get away.
The doorknob rattled frantically as the man on the other side tried to enter. Chris's breathing became rapid. "This is how it's going to end." She thought of her mother and father, and began to scream a bit more as the axe chopped through the door.
Chris's eyes shifted down towards Debbies body. At the knife that protruded from her. Chris reached down, hesitantly for the blade. It was her only chance at possibly surviving this. "That psycho is huge, bigger than this knife," Chris thought again. "But I can't just sit here and wait for him to kill me."She pulled out the blade. The chopping continued as the killer in the hockey mask sought out his prey.
Jason chopped and chopped with the axe, now able to gain access to the inside of the locked closet door. As he reached his left hand inside, Chris acted!
She lunged at the door, stabbing the hand of the lunatic, who moaned in pain. The axe fell to the floor and the closet door swung open.
Jason's potential victim began to slash at him with the knife! Advancing toward him as he backed off to avoid injury. That surprised Jason, that this small young woman posessed enough gall to attack him. He remembered before about how difficult it had been to catch her that night, how she had kicked his knife from his grasp. When he had finally caught her, he had lost her again. Now she was here, in the hallway of a small cabin,and this time, the woman physically threatened him with a knife. And it worked.
But that only made Jason more angry.
The chopping ceased as the killer reached a hand inside of the closet. Chris saw her chance and took it, with no hesitation. She stabbed the hand, all the way up to the hilt of the knife.
Blood spilled. The sound of his moaning was like sweet music to Chris. She kicked the door open to see the huge masked man clutching his wounded left hand with his right. The big axe had been dropped.
Chris's knife came down in a blurr of motion, nearly cutting Jason open. He backed off and she rushed forward at him, slashing the knife at her attacker. He backed away until his feet reached the puddle of water from the bathroom.
Chris slashed the knife at her pursuer, becoming the attacker for the moment. Her heart beat fiercly as she backed this large man down the hallway with the weapon that he had murdered innocent people with. She could see the puddle of water on the floor getting closer. She was almost there. Hopefully, he would slip and fall, and she'd give it to him.
Jason's feet stepped in the puddle of water that leaked from the bathtub, as Chris stepped in with a short scream, bringing the knife down towards Jason's right knee. The blade punctured deeply into his flesh and this time, Jason screamed.
He grabbed his leg as he fell backward on the wet floor. This one was just as bad as that blonde female he had scuffled with just the night before. The only difference was that she had gotten away, alive. After tricking him.
Chris observed Jason as he fell on his back, the knife sticking out of his knee. Now was her chance. She quickly reached Shelly's door and gripped the knob. The door was stuck again, but Chris knew there was a window in the bedroom. Her way out! But the door still wouldn't budge, and Chris realized that she had to move fast.
She kicked the door hard with a grunt of effort. "Stupid Door!" she thought to herself. The jammed door was starting to give as Chris frantically wiggled the doorknob. Her eyes shifted back toward the man on the floor, only meters from where she was standing. He was pulling the knife out of his leg!
The pain felt like white hot fire coursing through his entire leg. She would pay for that. Jason released his leg and carefully closed his left hand around the handle of the knife. The pain intensified as he gripped it. Jason glanced up. The woman was fighting to get one of the bedroom doors open.
His leg hurt pretty intensely. For that, she would suffer. Jason removed the knife from his bloody leg and whipped it toward Chris!
Chris shoved at the door as she gripped the knob. It finally opened as she stumbled half into the bedroom. She shot a quick glance back at the killer sitting on the floor... and the knife whipping through the air at her!
Chris screamed as she lunged into the room, the knife now embedded in the frame of the doorway where she had been standing. Her heart pounding, Chris dashed toward the bed, jumping on the mattress. She tried opening the window, but it didn't budge. "Shit!"
Chris looked toward the left of the bed where a desk and chair stood. Wasting no time, she reached down and pulled the chair up with both of her hands. Chris turned back toward the window, bracing herself, and swung the chair back.
Jason rested on the floor for a brief moment. He was in pain and it hurt to move, but he couldn't waste anymore seconds. She was quick, and he needed to catch her before she escaped.
The sudden sound of glass breaking filled the cabin. No. She can't get away. Jason pushed his heavy body up from the floor as his leg throbbed. Standing up, he limped toward the open bedroom door. Sure enough, there she was, climbing out through the broken window.
The chair shot out the bedroom window as Chris sent it through, in a spray of glass and wood. She placed her sneakered right foot up on the sill, kicking away a few shards of glass, and swiftly climbed out.
Now, completely outside, Chris hung from the window by both hands, preparing to drop to the ground. She wasn't a very high distance up, so Chris took a breath, readying herself. Before she could act, a large, calluoused hand gripped the hood of her jacket from the window above!
The rage inside of Jason grew as he approached the window in a limping stride. A large booted foot sank down into the bed as he stepped up onto it. He could see the girls creamy hands gripping the window sill. Jason reached his good hand outside of the window, down, gripping the girl's jacket!
Chris grunted as Jason tried pulling her up with his right hand. She began to beat at the hand as hard as she could, trying to get him to release her, but his grip on her was firm.
Unknown to Jason, the hood of Chris' jacket was ripping open. She had felt and heard the sound of the fabric ripping, to her relief."No!," she exclaimed as she dangled and hung in midair from the hand of a mass murderer. Chris pounded at the killer's arm a final time and the jacket ripped completely!
To his disappointment, Jason watched as the young woman plummeted toward the ground below. She appeared unharmed as she scrambled up on her knees. They both looked at each other, one from above and one from below.
Chris could see a demented look in the eyes of the wearer of that hockey mask. The look terrified her, but she did not let him see her fear. Jason broke the stare and withdrew back into the bedroom, releasing the cloth from the woman's ripped jacket.
Chris dropped to the ground outside of the cabin, half rolling as she landed, which did not stun her much.
The wind ripped through her long hair as she turned over and shot her eyes up toward the window. She had been lucky, escaping with no injury, with the exception of a minuscule cut on her chin that she had received from part of the window, during her fall.
Chris waited for Jason to make a move before she removed the ruined jacket from her slender form, revealing a chunky, comfortable blue sweater. The jacket was tossed aside and Chris made her way to a side door of the cabin. She stepped up to the door and peered inside.
Jason stepped into the hall again. The woman would get away if he didn't hurry. He was becoming frustrated again. This one was quite the challenge and it only made Jason want to slaughter her even more.
He stepped past the water on the floor and out to the spiral staircase. Gripping the railing with his good hand, he started down. The killer of Crystal Lake had no idea that he was being watched.
The wind howled around Chris as she looked in through the glass panes of the door, watching as the man wearing the goalie mask descended the staircase.
Fear no longer shown on her pretty face. Now there was more of a look of a hunter,or maybe someone pushed to their absolute limit. In some way, it made her look a bit menacing as the wind ruffled and tore at her hair.
Keeping out of the killer's sight, Chris carefully stepped down from the wooden stoop away from the side door of the cabin.
On the main porch, very close to the side door where Chris had just been (and blocked earlier with a wooden hat post) was another door. And, a big pile of thick firelogs.
Chris climbed up onto the porch. A surprise was in store for the man inside, limping down the stairs. She picked up one of the heavy logs and stood outside of the door, out of view, waiting.
If there had been anyone alive to observe what Chris was doing, it wouldn't have been hard to figure out that she was planning to bash the murderer's oversized skull in.
The woman was brave, but when you're fighting for your own life, and alone, one tends to take desperate measures.
Chris had already wounded him with a knife, stunned him with heavy books, and now, once again, she had the upper hand. Chris held onto the log with both hands as she waited for her "prey" to show itself. The door opened and Chris Higgins' fingers tightened on the wood in anticipation. Normally, to defeat a killer, you have to think like a killer.