A/N: I haven't been the best updater. I'm sorry.

Shane's uncle took one of the white and yellow checkered sheets that the camp used as a table cloth and gently draped it over the form of Jason. When red stains began to seep through the fabric, he laid another dark blue cloth over the first one and gently nudged Jason's appendages beneath them with the toe of his shoe.

Parents began shifting away from windows toward the center of the room, not speaking, only tightening the hold on their children as Brown sat down on a picnic bench and buried his face in his hands with a sigh. An eternity seemed to have passed before he looked up again and when he did, it looked as though he had aged ten years in the past five minutes.

"Shane, what did I tell you about how this camp came to be?" Brown asked, not looking at Shane, but through him.

Shane's forehead crinkled in confusion. "You said you bought if off an old science professor who had turned it into a space camp. Uncle, why does this matter? Jason is dead and we could be next if we don't stop that," he stopped abruptly when he saw that his uncle's shoulders were shaking with a grim laughter.

"Could be? No, no, not could be. Will be. I will be, Dee will be, most of this room will be and it is all our fault." Brown looked up, his vision boring into Shane's. "I have not been honest with you. With anyone and it's about time I told. I'd like to have a clear conscience before he comes for me."

"STOP IT!" Dee screamed suddenly. "Just stop! I will not marinate in a jail just because you've had a change of heart." She grabbed a stoker from the fireplace set and began her way towards Brown Cessario all the while trilling sharply.

"I've always known you were the weak link, Cessario. You're not going to ruin this for me! None of you are!" She raised the stoker high above her head as if to beat Brown with it, but before she could get close to enough to him, Collin stepped out from the crowd and pointed the small revolver he always kept on his person at her.

"You make one more move, she-witch, and I'll blow your bloody brains all over this place."

Parents, still in shock at seeing a man beheaded, gasped and pulled their children even closer at the site of the gun. The children, who, normally, would have struggled under the hold of their parents, buried their faces into the crooks of arms and against chests.

Dee lowered the fire poker, ending the Mexican stand off with Collin. Collin did not lower his weapon, but waited for Brown to continue his story.

"Thank you, Collin," Brown said tightly and cleared his throat. "I --we -- have not been honest with you and I'd like to stop that. This camp did used to be a space camp, but we did not purchase it. It wasn't even given to us as a gift. Dee and I did an awful thing to obtain Camp Rock and tonight we are reaping what we sowed."

The crowd leaned forward collectively, partly to hear the story better and partly to get further from the windows and doors. Mitchie grabbed Shane's hand and he squeezed it lightly.

"Back when Dee came to me with the idea for a place for kids to hone their musical abilities," Brown continued, "I thought it was a wonderful. We both had worked together previously at a private school of fine arts, but were disgusted with the lack of heart in which the students were taught. We collaborated and Camp Rock was born, but we needed a place to set it up. That's where the science teacher came in.

"Having both quit our jobs, neither one of us had the means to purchase a camp especially such a nice one as this, but we hoped that the old man would understand that he couldn't keep up his camp forever and sell to us a reasonable price. When he didn't, Dee and I took up residence in the area and found jobs and began raising money to buy the camp. That's when we heard the stories.

"We were in Joel's Diner, having lunch and counting our savings. With the mortgage Dee put on her house and the money my father sent me, we had just barely enough to buy half the camp. As we were discussing how to get money for the rest, a man came over and asked us if we were talking about 'ol' Crysta Lake.'"

Brown Cessario took on a misty look as his mind went back to that moment in the restaurant.

"You folks talkin' 'bout the ol' Crysta' Lake?" the grizzled man asked around a splintered toothpick.

Dee and Brown exchanged a brief look before addressing the man. "No," said Dee, "we were talking about Professor Simon's Space Camp. By Lake Minnow."

The man chuckled lightly while clawing at his beard with a gnarled hand. "I 'posed they'd go an' rename it. Afta what happen to it, I woulda done the same." The man's face went grave and he shook his head solemnly. "Bad thins happen down theya. Bad thins," he drawled slowly in an accent of undeterminable origin.

Brown and Dee exchanged another glance, wary of the old man. "What sort of things?" questioned Brown.

"Y'all must not of 'eard the stories. People 'roun' heyah don' lak talkin' 'bout it much on count uh the superstitions. But I talk 'bout it. Gotta. Fine folk such as yoselfs need ta know."

The duo were no longer wary of this sun bleached, bent old man, but were now a bit frightened of him and his tales about their dream camp.

"Um, what's wrong with it? Gas leak or loose floorboards or something?"

The man was taken aback and he sputtered indignantly. "L-loose floorboards? Lawd, no! That place iz solid as rock. Helped build it muhself. Nah, nah, what I mean iz, theya be some bad juju at that camp. There'z somethin' theya that the Lawd did not create."

He sat down heavily in their booth, propping a battered wooden cane against the side of the table, and sipped from Dee's coffee cup without permission, earning himself an aggravated glare.

He continued with his story, not minding that he had not been invited into the conversation and was not wanted at the table. "Ya see, a long while 'go, 'bout fourty yeas, tha' camp use ta be jus' a summah camp for the lil ones. None of this space adventua crap," he snorted distastefully and spit into a water glass close to him.

"The waz this one boy, Jack? No, it was Jason. Lil Jason Voorhees. Pamela's only chile. He was an ugly thin' and none the too brigh', but a good boy. Apple uh Pam's eye.

"One day, lil Jason iz in the lake swimming' all by hisselfs, and I do mean all by hisselfs. No lifegaud 'round ore counselors, nuthin. Po' Jason didn' know how ta swim and no one waz 'round ta watch him, so he done drown in tha lake and warn't found till suppa time. Turn out the counselors that were 'posed ta be watchin' 'im were, well, makin' a mess of the sheets. Anyway, Mizzes Voorhees waz devastated, but didn' have any money ore nuthin' so she couldn' sue ore anythan'. The camp closed a yea later and the site waz abandoned fo' a while."

The man paused and took a soiled handkerchief from his breast pocket and coughed vigorously into it. Brown waited until this fit was over before speaking.

"So, is that it? Some teens were having sex and a kid drowned? That's hardly any reason for a whole town to not discuss a camp for four decades."

The man looked Brown dead in the eyes until Brown was forced to advert his gaze.

"Boy," he said, "that ain't even the half uh it"

"Thirty yeas later, some people tried fixin' the place up ogain, but Mizzes Voorhees came back and killet off the whole lot uh 'em 'cept one and was killet herselfs. Thas when folks started callin' it Camp Blood. Two monts later the las' survivor, Alice her name waz, disappeared and five yeas afta that anotha group uh counselors waz murdered. There waz no Pamela to take the blame this time."

The story had given Dee goose bumps on the back of her neck and she shivered. "Who killed them?" she asked quietly.

"Why Jason uh course! Who do ya think would do it?" the man shouted with a pound of his fist. Several people in the diner looked to see who was causing the commotion in the corner, but looked away uninterested after seeing that it was only Crazy Ted.

Brown, never one to believe in anything supernatural, rolled his eyes and raised his brows at Crazy Ted. "But Jason is dead. He drowned in the lake."

Crazy Ted laughed airily. "Ah, but he wazn', boy. He waz the undead. Returned from the grave to protect what waz his own."

"Yeah, right," Brown snorted. "I stopped enjoying ghost stories when I was twelve."

Contempt flashed across Crazy Ted's face. "Ain't no ghost story! Search the newspapers ore the city records! Why yo think no one talk 'bout it? They fea he migh' come back any day if they speak uh 'im."

"Wait, wait, wait," Brown shook his head gently, "if he haunts that camp ground, why do they have a camp there now? Shouldn't it be sectioned off or burned to the ground?"

"Ah, but thas the good part o' the story. Afta Jason killet the O'Briens in theya store, the town went inta riot and hunted 'im down. We got 'im fo good this time. He iz as dead as a door nail." Crazy Ted took a hand rolled cigarette from a hollowed out space in his cane and puffed away at it joyfully. "We buried 'im, though. Don' know why, can' say he deserved it, but we did."

"So, this Jason has everyone terrified… And if anyone found out he had come back…"

"That Camp Professor Minnow Whatever would be empty faster than you could blink." Crazy Ted did not see the gleam in Dee's eyes as she began formulating a plan and he took another sip from her mug while nodding.

Brown sighed as he came back to the present. "Later that week, Dee and I found Jason's grave along the shore of the lake. We dug him up and during a bad lightening storm, somehow resurrected him. Dee's plan worked. The camp cleared out after Professor Simon's corpse was found in the canoe shed. We didn't even have to pay for the camp. The city practically gave it to us. Jason only came back once after that, and we thought we had gotten rid of him for good, but I guess nothing is ever gone for good."

Nobody breathed as Brown finished. Collin lowered his gun to his side and Shane squeezed Mitchie's hand even tighter.

"Uncle," Shane's throat was dry, making his voice slightly husky, "how do we stop him? How do we kill Jason?"

As Brown Cessario opened his mouth to answer, he, along with most of the room, noticed for the first time the heavy smoke that had been filling the cafeteria. The fire from the auditorium had traveled to the small room the whole camp was now occupying.

"Everyone, get down on the floor!" Cessario shouted and the coughing crowd fell to their knees. Brown crawled to the nearest door and reached for the door knob with his eyes shut, the smoke having left them unbearably dry.

The large form of Jason appeared in the door after Brown wretched it open.

"NO!" shouted Shane as he saw Jason shove a zebra print umbrella completely through his uncle's torso and then proceed to open it so that Brown could not pull it out.

Flames licked at all four walls of the room and the people inside, disoriented and blind, stumbled about heedlessly. Support beams, weakened by the fire, crumbled and the building began coming down around everyone.