Notes: Excludes anything from Texas Chainsaw Massacre II (1986), Texas Chainsaw Massacre: the Next Generation [TCM IV](1994), and Texas Chainsaw Massacre: the Beginning (2006). Will take into account primarily the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), Texas Chainsaw Massacre III (1990), and Leatherface (2017), and borrows some ideas from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3D (2013). That being said, I'll be using the name, Jedidiah Sawyer/Leatherface [if you don't know, the TCM movies are notorious for changing Leatherface's real name-so I had to pick one].

Primarily takes into account the original Halloween (1978).

Everything in this story takes place after all movie events.

Displacing time, here-moving everything to modern-day. Also, taking some artistic liberties and moving Leatherface to Haddonfield-I'll explain why later. Okie dokie?

Written for clevernotbrilliant's "Anything but a Love Triangle Challenge", given the instructions: "write a love triangle in a new and fun way". Challenge accepted.

Bear with me.


Chapter Title is a lyric from 'Cherry Hill' by the Creepshow

I suggest that you read the Story Notes. You don't have to but some of the information might be useful.

Warnings/Advisories: Sensitive topics (including references to torture, murder, and cannibalism). Swearing and violence


"This is a horror story I don't wanna be inside...

trapped inside a nightmare-will I make it out alive?"

-Cherry Hill by the Creepshow


Wednesday, 31 October 2018

Haddonfield, Illinois

Haddonfield Elementary School

Jordan nibbled anxiously on the rubbery pink eraser at the end of her pencil, watching the clock count down its final minutes to the bell. The sluggish and resounding tock, tock, tock of the timepiece stifled the excited chatter her class of fourth-graders into the background. Each second dragged into the next, the large black hand seemingly taking an eternity to roll over every tick.

Tip-tip! Tap-tap-tap-tap!

Eyes widening fractionally, Jordan's attention was torn back to the students.

In the front row, Ian Roth stooped from his seat to scoop up the markers that had rolled from his desk. He glanced up, catching, locking eyes with her before giving her a sheepish smile and returning to his Halloween project-just a crafty task she'd given them to speed up the last leg of the final block.

Shaking her head, Jordan sighed inwardly. Doctor Roster had her completely shaken, so much that she swore she was losing her mind-hearing things (footsteps behind her as she walked at night, strange bangs and clinks that the old farmhouse she'd bought earlier in the year didn't make before) and, as of this morning, seeing things (the silhouette of a man in the kitchen window in the first flush of daybreak, gone as quickly as it'd appeared).

It didn't take Roster long to first contact her after she'd moved into her home last April and he had been an ever-persistent presence in her life ever since.


14 April 2018

North Haddonfield, Illinois

The Sawyer Estates

The winter-worn lawn was overgrown and tangled with budding dogtooth violets and foamflower, creeping across the cracking cobbled path that led to the old farmhouse. It was probably too big for her, too old, with too many problems to fix, but Jordan couldn't pass up the potential.

The former owner had died without any successors, causing the old farm property to be released to the state. The state held a closed auction to unload the property and Jordan was pleasantly surprised to find out that she'd won the bid for only $40,000-an astoundingly low price in an area whose median ran in the mid-200 thousands.

For a solid two days, Jordan was able to enjoy her good fortune-a chance to start over new after her messy divorce in a new state far away from where she was. She walked the expanse of the estate, taking note of the greying, crooked barn to the back of the property, leading out to the empty stables and muddied pig-pen, old farm equipment scattered haphazardly on every inch of shelving or bench space across the property.

A tool shed in the back of the house housed a horde of peculiar rusty gadgets: barbed wire, bear traps, hammers, screwdrivers, hand saws, and all sorts of blades, among other things, hung upon the back wall with some sort of care. They filled the far wall, save a solitary, sizable empty gap.

The house itself was in desperate need of repair between the broken planks of wood on the front porch, peeling, yellowing paint, and severely out-of-date interior. She'd wandered the cold, drafty floors, not minding the gritty-looking, cracking wallpaper or the crooked staircase, elated at her opportunity for her fresh start.

But, on that third morning, before Jordan had even made it halfway through her first cup of tea, a series of hurried knocks resounded from behind the front door.

Grumbling, Jordan shuffled across the hardwood in her shaggy, pink slippers and mismatched pajamas, toting her tea along with her. She hadn't been there long enough to make any new acquaintances in the small town and the Sawyer property was shoved so far in the outskirts, far back against the thick woods, she had absolutely no idea who it could be.

The solid door swung back with a languid creak, revealing a disheveled man with dark circles around his eyes that nearly looked like bruises. His hair stuck up impossibly straight on one side, as if he'd fallen asleep in a puddle of glue, and his monochromatic, patchy clothes were crooked and wrinkled. His hands were quivering ever so slightly as he white-knuckled an umber accordion folder at his chest.

Jordan raised her eyebrows skeptically, placing her hand on the door in case she needed to slam it shut again. "Uh, hi?"

The man's eyes widened fractionally, staring silently for a moment before regaining his composure. "It is true then," he muttered as if he was speaking to himself. "Someone did buy this place-you bought this place." He shook his head, extending one arm out. "Jordan Jones? I'm Doctor Howard Roster. Do you have a moment?"

Inching the door closer to her body, Jordan dubiously eyed the stranger, ignoring his outstretched hand. He didn't look like a doctor. The khaki ensemble made him look more like a custodian than anything. "What do you want?"

He slowly withdrew his hand to his body, face faltering as he stood awkwardly on the porch. "I...I think you might be in danger."

Alarms went off inside Jordan's head. Stepping back, she attempted to shove the door closed, hindered by the booted foot that had slipped across the threshold.

"No, wait!"

Not waiting to hear what Roster had to say, Jordan hurried back to the kitchen, her mug slipping from her fingers in the process and falling to the floor-shattering it. She grabbed the phone from its cradle as she swung around the corner into the pantry, throwing the flimsy door shut behind her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! she chastised herself, pushing her back up against the door, effectively trapping herself.

With numb, shaking fingers she hit the power button, her thunderous heartbeat coming to a halt as she realized that the power still hadn't been turned on. The wireless never charged.

Tap! Tap!

Jordan started at the polite knocking, dropping the phone as she jumped.

"I'm sorry!" Roster said, hurriedly. "I didn't mean to scare you! We need to talk."

"I'm not coming out!" Jordan hissed, pressing her weight more heavily against the door. "Go away!"

There was a pregnant pause.

The doorknob turned gently and Jordan's breath hitched, realizing her error far too late. The door swung away from her body, causing her to topple out onto the tiled kitchen floor.

"Oh!" Roster stumbled backwards in surprise. "Are-are you alright? I didn't realize..."

Jordan scrambled to her feet, grabbing the edge of the counter for support as her slippered feet slid across the slick surface in her haste, panicking Roster managing to creep up behind her. Hurriedly, she yanked open one of the draws, retrieving a kitchen knife from its contents as she was backed into a corner.

"Stay away!" she warned, holding it threatening out before her, trembling even as Roster paused, holding the folders before him like a shield.

He stepped back, blinking several times in succession as he watched her. "Take it easy! What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing? Get out of my house!"

Roster sighed, appearing torn. After a moment, he relented, stepping carefully away from her. "Alright," he sighed, setting the folder on the counter as he retreated from the kitchen. "But read those...and call me as soon as you do. My card is inside."

He cast her a final, regretful glance before disappearing from the room.

Jordan remained, motionless, in the corner until she heard the front door close again. One, she counted, two...three. Swiftly, she hurried to the door, turning the lock and sliding the deadbolt before collapsing to the ground behind it.

She gasped, trying to slow her breathing as she curled up into a ball on the cold floor, knife still clenched in her fist.


15 April, 2018

North Haddonfield, Illinois

The Sawyer Estates

It took Jordan a full twenty-seven hours before her curiosity overtook her.

She'd pulled every piece of paper from the accordion folder, splaying them out on her kitchen table, sorting them in chronological order according to the dates.

There were newspaper clippings of a Sheriff's daughter found dead at the residence of a Verna Sawyer in Texas, patient documents of a Jackson Himmerson from a mental institution called Gorman House Youth Reformery; more newspaper clippings-a patient riot and full-scale escape from the Gorman House, multiple reports of dismembered bodies and gruesome 'works of art' of grave-robbed bodies propped in public areas on display, the obituaries of dozens of people, missing reports, and, most disturbingly, a couple police reports of a crime scene at Verna Sawyer's residence.

A teenager named Sally Hardesty filed a police report depicting a horrific tale of kidnap, torture, disfigurement, murder, and cannibalism.

Jordan's stomach churned as she read over each report.

A team of investigators went to the Sawyer house, only to be met with gunfire. A lethal showdown eliminated the Sawyer family, with the exception of a Jedidiah Sawyer, whose body was never found.

Another police report detailed an investigation of the Sawyer Estates, her new home. The former owner, Meredith Sawyer was Jedidiah's relative.

"His aunt," Jordan said, absently, cold sweat breaking out across her brow. Cannibalism...murder...torture. His aunt.

No evidence was found that Jedidiah was anywhere in Illinois, so the case was dropped, leaving police with a cold trail in Texas.

The final clipping was Meredith's obituary, leaving behind no surviving relatives.

Dry-mouthed and disoriented, Jordan grabbed her keys from the glass dish on the counter. She willed her feet to walk as quickly as they would go, slowed by nerves that rattled her entire body. She fumbled with the handle of her small sedan, slipping in the driver's seat and sped down the long driveway.

After a few miles, her phone finally pinged-she didn't get reception that far back...not for at least five miles in any given direction. Not bothering to pull over on the sparsely-traveled dirt road, Jordan hit the breaks a little too forcefully, causing the car to skid to a stop.

She dialed the numbers on the card, quaking as she waited through the rings.

"Hello, this is Doctor Ros-"

"What the fuck!"

"...Jordan?"

"What the fuck!"

"You read the files, I take it?"

Jordan bit her lip, willing her nerves to ease to no avail. "Why in Holy Hell would you give me those? Who are you?"

There was a pause on the phone broken with a shuffling sound, as if he was walking. "I worked as an intern under Doctor Lang," he said, "at the Gorman House."

"And?"

"Jackson's file I sent you... do you know the one?"

"Yes."

"Jackson is Jedidiah Sawyer. He's dangerous. I have reason to believe that he's been living at the Sawyer Estates, Jordan. It isn't safe."

"The-the police report said-"

"I know. I think they missed something. Meredith must have...she must have hidden him... Look, can we meet?"


Wednesday, 31 October 2018

Haddonfield, Illinois

Haddonfield Elementary School

"Miss Jones!" Abigail Reid, a short redheaded girl with braided pigtails, stood on the other side of Jordan's desk, holding a, colorful paper plate scarecrow, smiling proudly. "Look! I finished it!"

Letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Jordan mustered up a smile for the girl. "Wow," Jordan whistled, appreciatively, "That is a fantastic scarecrow."

The students finished up, one-by-one, discussing their plans for Halloween night. Ian and Chris Donaldson had their heads leaned into one another in the classroom aisle, projects aside, heartedly debating which route they should take first for the best candy.

"Mr. Wilkerson gives out full-sized candy bars," Ian insisted.

Chris shook his head, a serious expression crossing his face. "Yeah, but everyone else on that block gives out the cheap candies! If we start on the Robinson's block, we'll be able to bank a better candy load per area canvassed. We're going to need to be as efficient as possible this year."

Jordan bit back a laugh, glancing at the clock again. Nearly there.

"Just don't let the Shape get you!" Krista Parsons keened, wiggling her fingers spookily in the air. "It's Myers night again! Scree, scree, scree, screee!"

"That music doesn't play when you get murdered in real life, dummy!" Nate Vandenberg said.

"I'm not a dummy; you're a dummy!"

"That's enough," Jordan said, warningly, moving from her desk to stand in front of the children. "You shouldn't speak to each other that way!" She shivered, wondering what it was about the people in this town and their fascination with murderers. "And enough of Michael Myers-you know that's a myth don't you?"

"But it's not!" Abigail protested. "I lived next door to Tommy Doyle a couple years ago when the Shape came for the Strode girl." Her face turned a shade of pale as she locked eyes with Jordan. "They shot him. A lot. And he just...got back up."

The girl's gaze held steady for a moment until-

Briiiiiinnnnnggg!

-the final bell sounded, and Abigail turned away to gather her books.

Jordan shook of the chill running along her spine and sighed. "Have a good night, kiddos! Stay safe and don't eat too much candy, please! We have class tomorrow-same time, same place!" She waved goodbye, waiting for the last of them to shuffle out of the classroom.


Do-do-doo...

The telltale falling tone of the cellphone's signal being dropped echoed from the passenger seat as Jordan cruised along the windy backroads. The shadows of the tall white oaks, donning their autumn coats of orange foliage, had already begun casting shadows across the road as the sun sank lower in the sky.

25 miles from the school to her house and another 125 or so to Smith's Grove Sanitarium-where she was meant to meet Roster. His text seemed short and urgent but he refused to say what he wanted to meet about until they were face-to-face.

It's not as if Jordan hadn't heard all of his crazy theories before. In the months since they'd last met, they spent a great deal of time talking about Jedidiah Sawyer and searching every inch of the Estates to ensure that nobody was hanging around uninvited. And, despite the number of times a cut of meat would disappear from the freezer or how many times she swore something was misplaced or moved, she was certain that nobody had been taking up residence in the house.

Roster, on the other hand, would not let it go.

And, so, instead of curling up on her couch and marathoning horror films on Netflix as she graded homework assignments alone in her pajamas, she would be spending Halloween night driving to the Sanitarium. Again.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan caught a flash of white.

Swerving hard to the left to avoid the animal, she hit the breaks, bracing herself as the car careened dangerously close the downward-sloping embankment, coming to a stop just short of a rollover.

Her eyes were drawn to the rearview mirror despite believing that she didn't hit whatever it was that'd stepped out into the road, just to be sure. Instead of a deer, like she'd initially thought it was, a man stood behind her in the road, watching her through an expressionless white mask.

She shivered, locked in a staring contest through the mirror. "What kind of moron runs around in the woods dressed in their Halloween costume?" she muttered, easing the car forward again to continue her drive home.


Jordan juggled her bag of binders, purse, and coffee mug as she awkwardly unlocked the door, one knee raised in the air to help support the bags. Stumbling through the foyer, she shuffled to the kitchen, where she dumped everything blindly on the table.

She only had a few minutes to get changed and back on the road if she was going to meet Roster in time. Hustling, she managed to dig a pair of jeans and her favorite, silky long-sleeve from the pile of clean laundry and throw herself together, slapping play on the blinking answering machine as she passed by it.

"Hey, JJ!"

The sound of her brother Rick's voice coming from the machine caused her to chuckle as she made her way back to the kitchen to search for her keys.

"I have a surprise for you! Mason finally managed to get some time off of work-so we're heading over this weekend to finally see your new place!"

"Surprise!" Mason, Rick's husband, sang in the background of the message.

"We'll be there for an entire week, so, do us a favor and clean out a guest room, huh?

"Love ya, JJ-"

"Call me!"

"Call us back when you can."

Beep!

Standing at the kitchen table again, Jordan's grin slowly vanished. Her shoulders hunched and rounded with tension. On top of her pile of bags sat a bouquet of wilting black-eyed susans, mud-clumped roots still attached.

She swallowed dryly. Someone was in the house.


Notes: Timelines, settings and locations [people unfamiliar with the fandoms will not need to know this information as it is clarification for those of you who are familiar with either fandom]

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre took place in Texas, United States (obviously). In Texas Chainsaw 3D, it is established that Thomas/Jediah/Bubba/or whatever other names you'd prefer to call Leatherface by has a relative in Newt, Texas to which he flees in the aftermath of the Sawyer shootout (and yes, I've changed this plot point around, too). I've used this concept of Leatherface having a relative, only I moved her to Haddonfield, Illinois (the fictional setting of the Halloween movies) and then disregarded the remainder of the movie.

Texas Chainsaw Timelines, what to know:

-Plot points from Leatherface (2107): Establishing that Leatherface's name is Jedidiah Sawyer, The Gorgon House (and the escape thereof), the death of the Sheriff's daughter.

-Plot points from the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974): The grave robbing reference as well as using the corpses to make 'artwork', and, of course, Sally Hardesty's experience.

Halloween Timelines, what to know:

-Sticking to the aftereffects of the original Halloween for now.

Original Character [Jordan] Timelines, what to know:

-Jordan moved to Haddonfield for a fresh start and bought the Sawyer Estates in a closed auction held by the state in April [this chapter's 'present' is October] of 2018.

All TCM & Halloween movie events have occurred sometime within five [5] years of the current date [2018] instead of the years they happened in the movies.