Disclaimer: I don't own Jason Voorhees or any Friday the 13th content. I do own Blake and Henrietta.
Story: When Jason Voorhees was a little boy, there was one counselor who cared and tried to save him. She'd failed but the memory of her was branded into his mind, alongside that of his mother's. Years later, he meets her great grandchild with her looks, and finds a second chance along with her.
Set after Freddy vs. Jason.
Spoilers: Um…from all 12 films, I guess. Even the new one.
Warnings: Violence, language, etc.
Pairings: Jason/Blake (OC)
A/n: Thanks all so much to everyone who reviewed! I know it's been a long time since I've updated this, but I haven't really had much motivation or inspiration for it. I'm so sorry! Please enjoy this!
The Devil's Aria
Chapter Three: And the Devil Went Down to Georgia
'Find her, Jason. Find her.'
He stalked through the foliage, glimpsing a small female walking along with a fox, in a rare moment the girl had actually trekked a little too close to Camp Crystal Lake. He raised his machete when he saw the flash of silver hair and stopped.
Silvery, flowing hair.
An angel.
He rested the machete by his side and began following the girl, watching as she and her fox walked around the forest, sometimes stopping to play. He followed her back to her home, a place he was actually surprised he'd missed seeing, considering how out of the way and close to his home it was.
He watched outside her house as she cleaned up, watched her and her fox eat dinner, and listened to her hum and sing a beautiful song. She left the next day, and he broke into her home through the back. He waited until she came home, and knew from the first moment he saw her clearly that things were going to change.
She had the exact look of his angel, with shorter hair.
'Stay with her, Jason. Stay by her side.'
He'd already lost his temper with her once, but he'd managed to stop himself at the sight of her gasping and seeing her silvery hair falling into her eyes.
'Carve yourself. Peel your very skin and be reborn.'
As she slept after he'd stalked her at school and then fell asleep by her side, he'd awoken in the night and gone to her bathroom. There, he sat in the middle of the tub, his naked corpse lax as he used his machete to "shave" off his skin. Black ooze and blood seeped out in rivulets and then in streams. He continued until he'd carved off everything and he'd waited.
He knew he was a special boy. His mother had told him so time and again, and even he'd noticed his regenerative abilities. Before he'd drowned, he looked normal with only a scar running down his left eye. After he'd drowned, he'd spent a long time just in stasis in the water before he'd gone back to the surface. There, he'd lived in the wild, surviving however he could by himself, honing his hunting, tracking, and killing skills. Living in the wild affected the way he looked, never washing and letting grime and dirt build up. His brown hair turned stringy, his teeth rotted, and his eyes turned bloodshot. In fact, his eyes hadn't returned to normal until Krueger shoved his finger knives in them and they'd regenerated later. Some parts took longer to regenerate, like his fingers that were cut off.
Hours passed and he felt his body change, still bleeding black and red. He turned on the water and let it run over him, the water stinging red muscle and tissue, and then renewed pinkish skin.
When he stood in front of the mirror, bare and fresh, he saw himself reborn as his mother had said he would. Pink soft skin covered his body, unscarred and unblemished except for the blasted scar running down his left eye. His eyes were the baby blues his mother had adored, though one eye was shut close from the scar.
He left the house, only to return an hour later covered in blood and new clothing in a bag. Taking another shower, he put on the new clothes and awaited the girl's wake.
Blake wearily opened her eyes, feeling as if she hadn't gone to sleep at all. When she realized Jason wasn't with her, she wasn't sure if she should feel relieved that he was gone or worried about where he was.
Hesitantly tip toeing out, she made her way downstairs to her living room and her eyes bugged out at the sight. In what had become Jason's usual spot, an unfamiliar man sat there, brown hair hanging wildly around his face and baby blues that stared at her unflinchingly with one eye shut close and a scar running down it.
Screeching, she grabbed the phone book near her and waved it around the air.
"Who the hell are you?! I warn you! The Jason Voorhees has been hanging around here. He'll kill you!"
An amused look ran through his face before it became unreadable once more and she waved the phone book threateningly at him.
"I mean it!"
When he still didn't react or say anything, she looked closer and frowned. Her eyes widening, she gaped when she realized the truth.
"J-Jason?"
He nodded at her.
"Oh my God," she muttered to herself. "Okay…okay…um, I'm going to feed Henrietta now."
Too weirded out, she just went about her daily morning tasks. She set up her fox's food, started boiling some water so she could cook ramen for breakfast, and then put away the dishes from the night before. Doing some extra little things, she started cooking her food once the water was boiling.
"We should get you a haircut. Your hair is long and would get in the way. Just…you know…instead of it being as long as it is, we could get it cut midway to your cheeks. Okay?" she said in small talk, without looking at him. She didn't think she could talk if she did.
He was silent, but she took his silence as acquiesce.
"And clothes. Um, where did you get those clothes anyway?"
She could guess where.
Or rather what he did.
"Well, you need more clothes. And I need to go grocery shopping because I'm out of food for the week, and I'm assuming you eat as well. Uh, you do eat, right?"
Silence answered her once more.
She didn't say anything more after that. She just got ready, ate, took a shower, dressed and set out after making sure Henrietta was safely tucked away in her house. She already knew Jason was going to follow.
Sure enough, she hadn't even gone that far when he was suddenly beside her, walking like a silent gargoyle with no expression and no words.
Blake didn't have a car, just her lone motorcycle that he'd…graciously…brought back for her. Climbing onto it, she jerked her head behind her and was glad that he easily got the hint, though she was surprised he understood what she had silently asked. Maybe there had been teens with motorcycles over at Crystal Lake and he'd seen them riding on one before he'd killed them.
Barely fitting, with him taking all the space and she having to sit slightly on his lap (though she was glad she was so small that she would be able to fit on it at all), she kicked back the kickstand and started the motor. It wasn't long until she was driving them to town, her nervous about bringing Jason Voorhees, though looking different and more human, to a small community filled with people who were deathly afraid of him.
And even if he looked more human, he was still Jason Voorhees and a known killer. And with that, she worried how he would react around the town. He'd viciously killed someone already in plain view at her school. Just because he looked different didn't change anything at all.
She parked in front of Frank's Barbershop, pausing to address Jason, only chancing a sideways glance.
"You can't kill anyone, alright? Just…please. I don't want to get caught up in it. Not again."
He didn't answer, as per usual, but she hoped that meant he wouldn't.
Inside, he was immediately seated and she explained to the barber what she wanted done to his hair.
"Maybe you could cut it this short, with the hair from his back close cut to his head. And then do something to style it a little."
Frank nodded and started cutting the brown locks. She could see Jason frowning and stiffening up, and she just had the horrible vision of Jason grabbing the scissors and stabbing Frank through the throat with it.
But he didn't do anything so she relaxed a little, watching as Frank finished up. When he was all done, Jason had his hair cut really short in the back, with his hair growing slightly longer as it neared the front of his face. Leaving some of Jason's front hair hanging in front of his face, brushing over his eyes and midway to his cheeks, Frank slicked the rest back.
"Looks good," she gave a strained smile.
She quickly paid for the haircut, and nearly dragged Jason away.
After that, they quickly got his clothing and stuffed them into the small compartment hidden in her seat. The last thing was groceries, and she hoped Nancy and Kent had the sidecar that she could attach and put the groceries in. She'd always left it there just so she could easily put in her groceries and bring them home.
Jason actually wheeled the cart for her and she went along, shopping and shoving things into the cart.
"Mmm, look at that chick right there. Hey, Honey. Ditch the giant and come with us!" some asshole yelled from behind them.
Blake ignored him, having a feeling that he was indeed talking to her. She reached for a gallon of milk when the guy knocked it out of her hands and it fell to the ground, splattering all over the floor and making a mess.
All of a sudden, Jason grabbed the guy by the throat and slammed him against the fridge door, choking him.
"Ja –Jed!" she changed his name at the last second. She grabbed onto Jason's arm, slowly able to pull him away. Finally, Jason abruptly let go, letting the guy drop to the ground in a heap, wheezing and soaking up the milk that had spilled.
She quickly grabbed another container of milk and put it into the cart, pulling Jason away.
"You can't just do that, um okay, Jason?"
Jason didn't answer her, like usual. He just stared stoically at her so she resigned herself to sighing and fixing up dinner.
"Do you eat?" she asked again.
Another stare.
Damn it, she may be afraid of him but sooner or later she was going to accidentally lose it and get frustrated.
But then he stepped closer to her, making her stiffen up as he invaded her personal space.
"J-Jason, I-I need some space," she muttered uncomfortably.
"…"
But he bent down and leaned close, and she could feel the skin of his face brush up against hers as he inhaled her scent in deeply. His skin actually felt soft…She didn't expect it to.
Was a killer's skin supposed to be soft?
And while he had smelled her, she had accidentally inhaled and smelled him as well, blushing when she recognized the lavender smell of her shampoo and body wash on him. Besides that, he smelled good…
Was a killer supposed to smell good?
She shivered as he stepped back and she could've sworn a smirk briefly flitted across his lips, though it was gone as soon as she'd glimpsed it.
A killer wasn't supposed to feel soft or smell good or-or look so divine…But then again, Jason hadn't. Not until whatever voodoo he'd done (for whatever purpose), where he'd miraculously became a new human being. This was not the Jason everyone knew or expected. He could walk around like any other regular serial sociopathic killer, and not be bothered because he looked mostly like everyone else.
Gone was the monster Jason everyone warned you about and to run from. Now Jason looked like a human being and Blake had a feeling that made him a more dangerous killer.
You couldn't differentiate him from everyone else any more.
Feeling herself grow more terrified again, she whirled around and started on dinner once more. She started cutting up onions for the soup she was making, when she accidentally cut herself. She stilled and glanced nervously behind her, seeing Jason watching her eerily.
She became even more freaked out when he came closer at the sight of her bleeding finger, strangely grabbing it tenderly and she watched him in horrified fascination as he brought it to his mouth and delicately sucked on the wound, wrapping his soft lips (he's not supposed to be soft) around it and suckled, staring at her all the while with an unblinking blue eye.
She gulped.
When he finally pulled away, she washed her hands, put on a bandaid, and went back to fixing dinner with a new fervor.
She sat down at the table and watched as he took the seat opposite her on the other end. He stared and she refrained from huffing, feeling crazy enough that she would accidentally scowl and become frustrated with him.
"So…how long are you staying here for?"
He shrugged, and while she was surprised that he'd answered at all, she felt weirded out that he'd answered like that. It made him too normal.
"Okay then, how old are you?" she asked for a lack of topic.
He traced a number in the air almost in boredom and she was the one staring at him this time.
"Y-You're 62?"
He huffed, but held up a finger, then pointed at himself and then traced another number in the air.
"But just think of you like you're in your 30s?"
He nodded.
Jason didn't look freakin' 62, he looked like he'd said –in his 30s or in his late 20s.
"Why? Why do you look young?"
He took her off guard when took a butter knife off the table and dug it into his skin, freaking her out. Then she watched in fascination as it healed instantly.
"You heal fast?"
Jason looked at her as if saying "And?"
"You regenerate?"
Another nod to confirm her answer.
Well, hell. That answered quite a bit about him. Why he never seemed to be able to die, why he kept coming back, why nothing fazed him…
She'd heard all the rumors, and of course that he'd plagued the survivors of his attacks, even though he was supposed to have died after each time.
Blake could understand that problem at least.
She went to sleep early that night, unable to fully process any more eventful happenings and dumps of information.
However, Jason had other plans. Checking in once on her, he was about to leave out the door when Henrietta came trotting up to him, tilting her head in question.
Smart fox.
He sat on his haunches, petting her, before looking at her with a stoic gaze and putting a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Then he turned and closed the door, Blake's stolen motocycle keys in hand and money he'd stolen earlier from the same people he'd originally stolen clothes from.
Easily hiking a leg over to the other side, he kicked back the kickstand and started the engine. He drove off, back to town and straight to his destination. The bookstore was dimly lit and small, but there were large book shelves filled with books all over.
Jason wasn't stupid. Far from it, he was actually intelligent. Maybe a little too much –after all, it helped him set up dangerous traps and to stalk his prey in an almost cruelly teasing manner. And it was frankly annoying and frustrating having to communicate with the girl by having her interpret everything he did. So while he understood things…he'd have to relearn how to speak and communicate again.
The time said he had 10 minutes left until the bookstore closed, but with his intimidating height and look Jason could probably get away with scaring them to close after he was done. He entered, still wearing a stoic look on his face and his mouth set in a neutral line. The girl attending the counter smiled nervously at him, though she did chance a lookover.
He refrained from smashing her head against the wall.
Jason strolled through the aisles like any other person would, grabbing books and stacking them into his arms. And when he went out, he forced himself to ignore and walk pass a group of shits that were messing around, packing his books into the compartment of the bike and drove off.
At least though idiots didn't try to steal the bike. Then he would have killed them and he just knew that would've caused a panic in the town.
That would ruin all his plans.
Started 8/29/09 –Completed 12/14/09
