Chapter 1 - Mama said

The forest around Crystal Lake stood dark and foreboding beneath the silver light of a full moon. Darkness steeped in black was reflected by the still waters of the lake like it was a polished mirror. Nothing moved, except the white fog rising from the lake's surface, moving about like ghostly dancers in everchanging swirls. And along the shores, in gloomy silence, the lone figure of Jason Voorhees wandered. Dragged his hulking body along, a sharp and shiny weapon in his tight grip, like he had done so often. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Be it by the lack of nature's sounds or the stillness of the water he could not tell. So he wandered on, trailing well-trodden paths aimlessly around the lake and up to the camp. Always on the hunt, on the search for something.
Or someone. His dazed mind couldn't fathom what he was searching for. He tried to remember, tried so very hard, but every time he thought he had a memory in his grasp it slipped away. It sunk away in the blissful unawareness of his mind like a body sank beneath the water's surface. He was alone here in this deafening silence. Sometimes he thought he saw a shadowy figure out of the corner of his good eye, but whenever he turned his head to look at it, the shape would vanish, leaving nothing behind like swirling wisps of mist.
The sound of female laughter tore through the silence echoing over the lake. Taunting its lone inhabitant, haunting him with the promise of company. Company he knew he would never have. He was cursed to wander here alone in silence. Again that laughter and his masked head snapped into the direction of the pier. The direction of where the laughter came from. A red haze began to filter over his sight, tinging the moon with the colour of freshly shed blood. He went to investigate, feeling like he had done so a thousand times before. And yet he could not remember the last time, he had ever seen another human being.

"Mike? Is that you?"

He heard the clear voice of a woman call. He stepped out of the forest, still hidden by the bushes. His gaze narrowed on a young girl with a bare chest, with long brown hair. He tilted his head to the side.

Mike...

That name struck a nerve. Had he ever known a Mike? He did not now, nevertheless, he felt his anger grow. He wanted to get to Mike, wanted to kill him. Why he didn't know either. All he knew was, that the mention of that name woke something in him. Something murderous. In front of him, the woman turned away, exposing her bare back to him. He could make out faint lines on her pale skin. He cocked his head to the side, asking himself if he had ever seen a similar tattoo. He shrugged it off, though the desire to touch it remained.

"All right. Fuck you then, I'm heading in."

The woman called her voice the only sound in the night. With light feet, she ran along the pier and jumped into the black water. The red haze grew thicker, like the fog over the body of water and he could feel his blood boil. He took a step forward, snapping some branches as he did.

"Mike? It's not funny anymore?"

The young woman in the water said. He had scared her. He could tell by the tone of her voice. He always scared them. And then they took off running and screaming.

Always?

He thought. A faint memory in the back of his mind stirred. A memory of big bright blue eyes that looked up at him lovingly. But the memory faded away, just as the bathing woman climbed the ladder to the pier and began to hurry away in sheer terror.
He turned around. He was in no hurry. He would catch her, he always did.
His thoughts, however, stayed with her as he slowly walked through the thick fog. His footsteps falling into the rhythm of his steady heartbeat. She reminded him of someone. He knew he should remember, but as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't. Suddenly the woman was in front of him again. Jason straightened a bit in surprise. He never heard her run up to him and he could have sworn, that he passed that one group of trees now for a couple of times. But if he walked around in circles, where did she come from then? Yet, there she stood, looking at him with wide eyes. He wanted to smile, as her face, her big blue eyes stirred an emotion in him. But then she turned and ran away, shrieking in absolute horror. He took a sharp breath in. She should not run away from him. She should not be afraid of him. Why did she scream? What has he done to her? He sighed and began to follow her. His pace was slow, yet steady, but his body just could not find the energy to run after her. Deep down he knew, that he could run, could catch up with her.
And then she was back again, this time with his back to him. Jason took another step, making a twig snap beneath his boot. She jumped around and let out a terrified wail. How was it possible for her to run away and yet back to him? Perhaps she ran in circles as well. Maybe she just had a terrible sense of orientation.
Again, she fled from him, confused and absolutely horrified. She fled until she stumbled and fell. As she finally found the strength to get up again, she was almost crazy with fear. She turned around herself a couple of times, like a frightened caged animal. Trying to see through the shadows of the trees. The thick white fog stood in stark contrast to the darkness. The forest frightened her, it played tricks on her mind. Slowly she backed up, away from the tall trees and the killer that dwelled amongst them. Her breath caught in her throat as her back hit something hard, only to be released with a sigh as she realised that she backed up against a tree. Suddenly there were noises in the night, a low sound like many voices whispering. She slowly felt her way around the tree and backed away further. It never occurred to her to simply turn around. If she had, maybe she would have seen the hulking figure standing between the trees.
But he could see her. She was moving directly in his direction. As she finally turned around, Jason wasted no time to impale her with his machete. The sharp long blade connected with her with such force, that her body was slammed against the tree. At least her death was quick. He took a moment, to consider his handy work and again he got the sense that something wasn't right. That he should not have killed her.

"Jason."

He heard his name being called out of the darkness. It was a familiar voice. A voice he hadn't heard in a long time. Slowly, like a sleepwalker, he turned towards it, yet he could see nothing but the dark trees and the fog. The thick wisps of mist were lit by the ominous light of the moon, giving that place an otherworldly feel. He sighed, and his gaze fell down to the ground. He must have imagined that voice, he knew, that he was alone here. They all had left him to wander here endlessly. Then the corpse spoke to him.

"I should have been watching them"

It said in a flat emotionless voice.

"Not drinking, not meeting a boy at the lake."

Jason turned to look at the corpse in confusion. That was not supposed to happen. Corpses did not talk. This place wasn't right. This didn't feel like his camp. This place felt hollow, there was nothing that connected to him. He was lost.

"Jason."

He heard the familiar voice call out to him again. Jason stared at the corpse. He didn't want to acknowledge the voice, he knew it wasn't real. And he just could not bear to turn around in the hopes to see a face he longed to see, only to be greeted with darkness. He took a deep breath in. The atmosphere of this place had suddenly shifted. It did not feel so empty anymore. With a sigh he turned around, slowly raising his gaze from the ground. His eyes widened with both surprise and joy, as he saw the woman in front of him.

"My special, special boy."

His mother said, her voice sounding soft, yet strained. His joy faded. Why was she here? Faintly he remembered seeing her decapitated head roll over the dirty muddy shore. Had that been a nightmare? Somehow he didn't believe so since he wasn't a boy anymore.
His mother didn't move, didn't come close to him. Uncountable times he had fantasied about this exact moment, but in his mind, this scene had always played out very differently. In his fantasy, she had been overjoyed to see her boy again. And somehow he felt like she should come to him, her arms open wide, yet all he saw was a cold storm behind her eyes.

"Do you know what your gift is?"

She asked him. Jason didn't react. He still was fighting the feeling that this wasn't right. But she was his mother. She looked like her, sounded like her, he even could very faintly smell her perfume.

"No matter what they do to you, you cannot die."

She continued. Jason cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. He remembered his mother's voice to be softer, less commanding. But maybe his memories of her had been distorted like everything else.

"You can never die!"

And he remembered her eyes to be softer, her stare less evil. It confused Jason greatly. This was his mother, so why did she feel so different. And why didn't the feeling leave him, that she was not who he longed to see? Who was the person he longed for?
Pamela, however, seemed unfazed by her son's inner turmoil. She smiled at him, raising her voice as if she would talk to a 10-year-old.

"You've just been sleeping, honey!"

Sleeping?

He thought. He didn't feel like sleeping. Had he not just killed a teenager? In confusion, he tilted his head to the other side. This look returned to his mother's eyes. Her eyes frightened him. He could not say why. On the first glance, they looked like her mother's eyes, but they seemed a bit off. He shook himself. It could not be, that everything here seemed off and he was beginning to think, that he was wrong somehow.

"But now it's time to wake up!"

She said in a voice that demanded absolute devotion.

"Mommy has something she wants you to do!"

Her face twisted with rage. That was definitely not how he remembered his mother. His mother had never been angry with him. This felt wrong, like the whole place. He wanted to get away, yet he was frozen to the spot, forced to listen what she had to say.

"I need you to go to Elm Street!"

She commanded, but the command only raised more questions in Jason. As far as he remembered, they lived at a camp. There was no Elm Street.

"The children had been very bad on Elm street! Rise up, Jason! Your work isn't finished! Hear my voice and live again!"

Her voice rose to an uncomfortable shriek, that hurt his ears. Jason's eyes snapped open, and he was doused with cold water. His chest raised with a sharp intake of air. The forest had vanished. The lake and the fog had vanished. His Camp and his mother were gone. Instead, he stood in the middle of a deserted suburban road while cold rain pounded down on him. Faintly he remembered a deep evil laugh, that was so unlike his mother's. He was confused. He felt like he didn't belong here. How did he get here? He still felt like being trapped in a dream. He just couldn't get a clear thought, all was hazy and distant. And not right. And yet he began to walk forward, towards Elm Street. He would do as mama said.