A/N: OMG I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE SEVEN MONTHS TO CONTINUE!!! .;; I've been kind of...working on my artwork more...;; You can go look at my gallery if you like, www.bebopbountyhuntress.deviantart.com

And also, I would like to apologize to those who didn't like my reference to "The Most Dangerous Game." I'm not stealing anyone's story, I promise, it was just a reference for the amusement of my LA teacher, Mr. Boyd. This fic really has nothing to do with it. Unless you count one guy trying to kill several others. Which then in that case 90 percent of every horror movie in existence would be ripping off that story. I had no idea some people would be offended by it. So, I'm sorry I mentioned it, really...after this chapter, no more about it... Anyway, onto it!

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Val stood with the rest of her friends just beyond the edge of the clearing, panting heavily and desperately clinging to the rough trunk of a young tree for support. Her knees felt weak and unstable and threatened malevolently to give out on her as the many winged creatures inside her stomach did drunken loop-de-loops. "He...He's going to kill us." Her voice was shaky and hoarse. "He's going to kill us, Tyler. He's going to kill us!" Her voice cracked. Two tears found their way out of her eyes and rolled lazily down her cheeks. "We're going to die! He's going to KILL us! Oh, God, I don't want to die, Tyler! I don't want to die!"

"Val, it's okay, calm down," her blonde boyfriend desperately tried to comfort her.

"Oh, Tyler..." She fell into his arms, clinging o two fist-fulls of his shirt's fabric.

He gently ran his hand lightly up and down her back as she sobbed raggedly into his chest. "Jason's not going to kill anyone else. We won't LET him," he said determinedly. "Here," he gently freed his shirt from her vice-like grip and held her out at arms length, offering her the bottle of water. She graciously accepted it and took a small drink before passing it to Hank and Caitie.

"Okay," Tyler spoke up, feeling it was somehow his duty to come up with some sort of motivational speech. "Really, the one thing we truly need right now is our wits. We simply can't afford to crack at the moment. If we lose it, we lose our lives. I don't mean to freak anybody out, but...we're obviously not dealing with a moral person. Does...does everyone understand?" Solemn nods and forced grunts. "Val...you gonna be okay?"

She sniffled and nodded again.

"Good." He took the water-filled Sprite bottle from Caitie and took a sip himself. It was far from ice cold by now, but it still felt refreshingly pleasant in his dry mouth. It needed to be strictly rationed, however, and he reluctantly pulled the bottle away from his chapped lips and recapped it, offering it to Jamie.

"No thanks," he refused. Now, of course Jamie was thirsty, but he wasn't dying, and to him, if something was in short supply, it shouldn't be used unless absolutely necessary.

Tyler seemed surprised, but didn't object.

"So...what are you going to do now?" Caitie asked, barely visible in the darkness of night.

"I say we camp out here for the time being," Tyler shrugged.

"Dude...you've got to be kidding," Hank laughed in nervous disbelief. "With Jason right there? Planning to murder us in less than an hour? He's hunting us. In the wild, the gazelle doesn't just stand in one spot and let the lion eat it. I say we run."

"Yeah, but see, that's what Jason wants us to do," Tyler disagreed. "If we don't...maybe he won't expect us to stick close. There are many reasons why we should stay here. If we can keep an eye on him without him realizing, there'd be no way he could sneak up and surprise us. Plus, there's a phone in that house, I saw it. We can't risk running away and getting lost. If we can wait for him to leave, we can sneak back in and call for help."

Hank opened his mouth to say more, but fell silent.

"As long as one person stays up on watch, the rest can sleep. I can do that if you'd like."

"You sure?" Jamie clapped him on the back. "Cause I will..."

"No, that's okay. You look tired. You could use the rest. I don't think I could sleep right now anyway." He took a seat on the pine needle-littered ground, leaning against one of the many tree trunks and staring at the dimly-lit house blankly as the rest of his friends made themselves comfortable as well.

Hank stretched out on his back and immediately felt his stomach flip over. He crawled shakily on his knees a few feet away. No, no, no, he couldn't throw up now. They were lost in the woods with absolutely no provisions; he simply could NOT afford to throw up at all. He had run out of berries, he couldn't lose the ones he had already eaten. His stomach heaved. No, no, no, stay down... He couldn't help himself. His back arched as he vomited violently.

"You okay, dude?" He heard Jamie's voice.

"Yeah, I...I'm fine," he managed to croak out, grimacing at the nasty, burning aftertaste of the stomach acid still left in his mouth. He wasn't fine, really. He had felt light headed and queasy ever since they had reached the clearing and the abandoned house, though he hadn't mentioned anything. These feelings had progressively grown worse, but throwing up had helped a little. Weakly, he stumbled back to his friends and collapsed beside them. His insides still bothered him, but fatigue soon took over, and he found himself finally drifting into a deep sleep.

Jason yawned and stretched, crawling out of the queen-sized four-poster he had slept in, completely oblivious and undaunted by the rancid smell the two decaying bodies gave off. Still rubbing at his groggy eyes, he clumsily stepped over the bloody mess on the floor and made his way to the small bathroom.

"And so the most dangerous game begins," he smirked to himself, running his fingers through his long bleached, spiked hair and splashing cold water on his pale cheeks. Those morons had several hours; they better had made a nice long, challenging trail for him to follow.

He went back to the bedroom and grabbed the kitchen knife off the nightstand where he had left it, then paused for a moment to glance one last time at the glass rifle case standing solemnly in the corner. It was a pity, really, that he wouldn't be there to see their faces when they ran back to the cabin (they would return, he KNEW they would. They were so predictable.) To get the guns, then realized there were no shells. Yes, he would love to see their looks of horror and helplessness. But...one couldn't have everything they wanted, now could they? And he would get his chance to see them quivering in fear soon enough.

He stuffed the knife into his belt and grabbed his trash bag out of the kitchen. He was wide awake now. The excitement of the chase was seeping into his pores, making his pulse race, heartbeat quicken, and adrenaline rush. Yes yes, the Most Dangerous Game was now beginning. Slinging his provisions over his shoulder, he excitedly marched through the living room and threw open the front door. He was met with a disappointing sight, however. The five teens were no more than twenty yards away. He quickly turned, feigning that he hadn't noticed them as the blonde-haired male began waking up his sleeping comrades. It was difficult to keep from bursting out laughing. They didn't seriously think those almost-bare bushes kept them hidden, did they?

He sighed dejectedly to himself. Tsk tsk, they didn't seem to be taking him seriously. And they weren't following the rules at all. Well, something most definitely had to be done about that. They needed the right sort of...example...to instill in their heads that he wasn't kidding. And he knew just the example he was going to give them. Smirking to himself, he turned in the opposite direction and began slowly walking into the dense forest.

Tyler stared blankly into space, lost in thought. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago the worst thing he and his friends had to worry about was the football game against Metamora. But now... He was dragged back into reality by a subtle movement. The front door of the house was opening. Crouching down in the shadows, he watched warily from between the branches of the thickets that gave them cover as the tall Jason stepped out onto the porch. His breath caught in his throat as, for one tension filled moment, he could have sworn he had made direct eye contact with him. But his roaming eyes moved on, surveying the rest of the area.

Tyler felt a hesitant sense of hope welling up inside him. Jason wasn't carrying one of the guns in either hand, and the large black garbage bag he had slung over his shoulder didn't suggest that it contained anything even remotely rifle-shaped. Did he dare consider that Jason had forgotten about the weapon he had maliciously used to threaten them with just a few hours before? Was there even a slight possibility that he had left it inside the house?

As the bleach-blonde punk began walking away in the opposite direction, Tyler hurriedly started on the task of waking his friends up. "Come on!" He whispered excitedly, lightly shaking Jamie awake. "Jason left, let's go use the phone!"

Hank yawned and stretched, sitting up. He had the most awful crick in his neck from sleeping so long in such an uncomfortable position, but that in no way compared to the pain his stomach was giving him. His insides felt hot and dry, as though something had started a fire inside him, and, had he eaten anything in the past 48 hours, he would have vomited again. He opened his eyes and found his four companions already up. They were walking away...leaving him...he had to stand up...He shakily rose to his feet. "Come on, Hank," Tyler said without looking back. He weakly followed.

The house was just as they had left it, though the door to the bedroom had been thankfully shut, hiding both the sight and smell of the gory scene behind it.

Grateful for the fact that it was still there, Val quickly grabbed the bag of bread she had so carelessly forgotten in her haste to get out of the house before Jason made good of his violent threat, while Jamie and Tyler exchanged nervous glances.

"The gun rack, it's...in the bedroom..." Jamie said reluctantly.

"Yeah..."Tyler nodded.

"Great..." Taking a deep breath, Jamie slowly made his way down the short hallway, Tyler behind him. Struggling to swallow against the lump in his throat, he twisted the brass door knob and pushed open the door. Of course, the devastating scene was still there, untouched, the two bodies of the young couple still sprawled out limp and lifeless across the blood-soaked floor. Jamie's insides twisted. How many more times were they going to have to see that? He forced his eyes up from the gruesome sight to the maple display case. Yes, concentrate on that...

Carefully stepping around the bloody mess, he and Tyler reached the gun rack and opened it excitedly. The three rifles were still there. They were no longer unarmed.

Jamie lifted the top one out. "How do you work these things?"

"Here," Tyler grabbed the second one. "William has two of these at home. You just cock it open like this, and...hand me two shells."

Jamie opened the bottom cabinet and felt around. "Uh-oh..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're kidding me...they couldn't have just had these for kicks and giggles. Maybe they kept the shells somewhere else?"

But neither one made a move to search the rest of the room.

"So...Jason knew...we would come back here...and took the ammunition..." Jamie said breathlessly.

Tyler didn't answer. He felt numb...scared. He couldn't shake the sight of Jason's cold blue eyes meeting his own for that one terrible second. He knew. Jason had seen them. He had known they were there, and more than likely he knew where they were right now. He felt a chill run lightly up and down his spine. Yes, he had under-estimated him. He could have easily killed them right then and there...but he hadn't. Because he knew he could have.

This was a game to him.

A most deadly game indeed.

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A/N: BAH! Hardly worth the insanely long wait! I'm so out of practice writing Thanks to Christina for betaing though And whattaya say? 67 reviews and I'll continue? :P