2.

A ghost moved amongst the shadows of walkways long forgotten. A cenobite glided down a set of metal steps. There was only the faintest sound from his footfalls, his movements so languid that the dust of decades was hardly disturbed. Occasionally the light, stuttering in and out of life, illuminated the cenobite's ashen features and the shining metal of the pins driven into its skull. These were a stark contrast to the soiled remnants of structures that surrounded him. He had travelled in this gloom for much time now. The city of the future, bright with light, polished alloy and plastic, concealed an ancient world of dead complexes far below. Most would have lost track of the distance they had travelled by this point; the depth they had reached; yet the cenobite knew exactly where he was going. These seemingly endless labyrinths of twisted ruins paled in comparison to the alternate world with which he was acutely familiar.

The rusted gratings above the daemon's head disappeared, as did the pockmarked bulkheads on either side. The creature looked about at the huge cavern that it had entered. He had reached his destination. A shame, as he had taken a certain pleasure in being allowed to wander freely for the first time in many, many centuries. He continued to glide forward, though his path was now littered with petrified plant matter. All around him were the grey and brittle husks of trees, their branches in tatters, most now lying broken upon the floor. A little further and the ground began to slope down, away into darkness, though that was of no consequence to the eyes of a daemon. He stood at the edge of a vast pit, the bottom of which was filled with the damp sludge. Continuing still further and the creature received more evidence that he had reached his intended location. A sign, barely legible after an age of abandonment, read:

Camp Crystal Lake Bio Dome

A little piece of nature in the metropolis of tomorrow…

The cenobite grinned.

"Can't be far now," he said to himself, though his eyes roamed in the shadows around him.

A noise found its way to the cenobite's ears. There was a movement in the trees above. Turning slowly, eyes half closed as if in boredom, the daemon looked up to see a large, jagged rock plummeting downwards towards him. Immediately the chains shot forth and ensnared the boulder, stopping its descent and flinging it aside. Then came the true attacker. With a thud that sent up a cloud of dust a huge creature dropped from the shadows above, his thick body of rotten flesh was wrapped in tattered and filthy rags. Straightening up slowly the hulking shape strode towards the coenobite. A rusted blade was clutched in his hand, an expressionless white mask was strapped about his face. So long had he apparently worn this mask that the flesh of his face, twisted with decay, now seemed to have reformed around the mask, fusing it to his skull. There was no roar of challenge, no shouted threats to accompany the advance. There was only sound was the creature's heavy footfalls.

The cenobite cocked his head at the new arrival, completely unconcerned as the blade was raised, ready for a crushing blow. The flesh hooks bit into the putrid flesh, hooking around bone, binding the arm against any movement. Still more barbed chains came to haul the struggling behemoth off the ground.

"Jason Voorhes!" The coenobite peered up at the black eyeholes as if searching for something. In reply the chains rattled as Jason made a renewed effort to break free and detach the cenobite's head from its body. More chains shot out to restrain him.

"Impressive, but even you will find it impossible to break these bonds…"

Jason's struggles became less frantic, though it seemed so that he could focus completely on forcing the restraints. The cenobite continued, totally at ease and speaking slowly.

"I will not waste words were I know they will not be appreciated, Jason. I came to offer you a deal. Your home," with raised arms the daemon indicated the dead forest, "has been undisturbed for centuries. However I can dismantle your Camp Crystal Lake and you would be powerless to hinder me. Thus…"

The chains swayed and then whipped back and forth with tremendous power, sending Jason flying, hurtling through the air. The juggernaut hit the wooden sign, it disintegrating, barely altering his flight. With a crack he crumpled against a tree, the ancient forest giant cracking and splitting with the impact. It crashed to the ground a cloud of ancient dust sweeping outward. As it cleared Jason lurched to his feet, almost quivering with barely constrained rage. It remained impotent however as the cenobite's chains once again wrapped themselves around his undead limbs and held him powerless in the air. The cenobite approached, speaking as he did so.

"That is just a taste, the faintest shadow of the havoc I could foment here. For all your merciless power, you will find you are no match for me."

With a sudden mighty effort Jason got a hand to the daemon's throat. He closed his fist crushing bone and tendon, twisting the cenobite's head at an unnatural angle. Hooks lashed out and Jason released his grip as they tore at his arm. With a dull, wet sound the coenobite rolled its head back onto its shoulders to look back into Jason's mask.

"Maybe I have underestimated you. How about an ulterior means of persuasion…"

With a creaking of leather the cenobite raised his arm. At the end of his fingers were metal barbs, identical to those of the chains. Slowly he moved his hand towards the mask, Jason still struggling. With a quick movement he slid the hooks into the mask's eye holes, a soft wet sound accompanying the act. Jason's body went rigid.

The cenobite's eyes moved behind closed lids for a moment and then opened, though his face remained impassive. He spoke, though his voice was that of a woman.

"Jason! Jason, my special boy! Be still while mommy tells you a story…"

Jason slumped into inactivity, dangling limp in the chains that still held him in the air. A grin spread over the cenobite's face.