this is just a random story I came up with while riding the bus home one day :/ first attempt at writing a friday the 13th story but I have seen all the movies (1-8) Jason goes to hell and Jason x All I have left to see is the Freddy Vs Jason movies...so yes I understand that Jason doesn't talk...and he won't not in my story at least...you'll see once I write more :/ Please...PLEASE read and review!


A dark figure loomed on the edge of the tree line. The large lake was sparkling in the light of the full moon. Large hands gripped the handle of a glittering machete. An old worn white hockey mask shown through the darkness. The figures' heavy breathing and the soft sound of small waves were all that broke the quiet. Just as quietly as the figure had appeared it was gone, hidden deep in the dark shadows. The unknown figure moved towards the dark buildings lining the shimmering lake. A soft wind blew through the trees making them sway softly. The figure nodded knowing he had done his job well.

This silent being was the deadly protector of this serene heaven. He was Jason Voorhees, Protector of Crystal Lake. The abandoned camp that lined the lakeshore was his now.

Humans had long since abandoned any hope of removing the inhuman protector. They had given up any hope of re-opening the camp which lay deserted and decaying on the lake banks.

No sane or those who knew the stories ever stepped foot on Jason's land. Those who did step on his land didn't live long enough to prove their stories true. They would all die for stepping foot on his land.

The land had become his the moment he took his last living breath on it. This place was his lonely haven and his alone.

The rumors from the town's people weren't true…at least not anymore. Yes his mother had once been killed here. Yes she had also once been fused within his mind, but that had long since passed.

It had been months since his mother last told him to do anything. He felt abandoned and lonely as he wandered the quiet camp.

Even with his mother gone he continued to kill, to protect the land he claimed as his.

Hours passed, slowly the sky started to shade into beautiful hues of red and orange. Another day alone had come, bringing with it the consuming feeling of loneliness.

The silent masked killer made his way back to his home. This was the house he had lived in before his death. It was the only home he knew. This knowledge still didn't stop him from wondering what kind of places lay outside of the camp and small town.

His heavy foot steps carried him farther and farther into the thick forest surrounding the lake. The trees started to thin into a small clearing. A small cabin covered in moss and slowly falling apart came into sight. The door stood out against the dark dirty decaying house. The porch had a large worn rocking chair in the corner. The stairs were rotting and creaked with even the smallest of weight.

Jason made his way towards the beaten, dieing house. Carefully he took the rotting steps to the front door. He paused to look at the peeling red paint that covered the old wood. Memories from when he was alive rushed through his mind.

His mother's sweet smile as he opened the door after a long day of playing played in his mind. With a small hidden smile he pushed open the door and entered his home.

He walked forward and turned to the living room. An old couch sat waiting for someone to toss it. Its cushions were worn and ripped in many places. It was covered with stains in random places. Sitting on a small wooden table next to it was a small lamp covered in dust. A table with an old T.V sat staring at the couch. The room was lined with pictures, both drawn and taken with an old camera.

Jason's eyes wandered the room slowly taking in all the details. His eyes stopped on a picture of his mother and younger self. He walked over to it and carefully brushed his fingers against the smooth glass. How he missed his mother. She had been the only one he had talked to for most of his life. Others would just torment him for his deformed face, making it very hard to make friends.

Pulling his hand back, he reached up hooking his fingers under the mask on his face. Slowly he removed it, untangling it from his short messy black hair. He stared at the photo, unhindered by the mask. With one last smile he turned to leave the living room and head up stairs.

He moved from the top of the stairs down the hall. Silently he passed a bathroom, unused guest room and a small family room that was right outside his room. He stopped at the last room on his left and slowly pushed open the door.

The room wasn't very big; the little furnishing it had made it seem larger than it really was. Upon entering the room you could tell it was recently used. To the left of the door, his childhood toy box sat open with a few toys lying next to it. Deciding not to clean them up till later he made his way over to the single bed that lay under the window.

Jason rarely slept but that didn't stop him from relaxing in his room. He would sometimes play with his childhood toys while sitting in bed. He was happy he still had those at least, if not he would have been drove mad long ago.

Smiling he laid his mask down on the pillow of his bed and walked over to his toy box. Carefully picking up the small toys in his large hands he started to clean. He paused when he picked up a small stuffed lion. He softly set the stuffed animal aside and finished the task of cleaning his toys.

He made his way back to the bed, stuffed lion in hand and lay down. With one last deep breath he shut his eyes, drifting off into the realm of sleep with his lion tucked in his arms.