A/N:Just so ya know,I do NOT own X-MEN:Evolution, nor do I own Friday the 13thor its many sequals. I forgot to mention that last time. Thank you for the reviews, persons!
Friday the 13th: Surviving Ironback
Sgt. James Marshall Hawk kept a loaded .20-guage pump-action shotgun in his office. He desperately wanted to bring it with him into the growing darkness, but he put up a good show of feigned bravery and placed it in Lance Alvers' quivering hands. He showed him how to load it, properly use it and where he kept the spare shells, then bid them farewell.
"If I'm not back in twenty minutes, count me and Grey as casualties. Stay strong, soldiers."
Kurt locked the door behind him, offering a prayer in German. He surveyed the room:
In the corner, Todd counted off on his rosary, staring into space. Pietro and Paul, Scott's quiet human friend, were comforting Kitty and the three human girls who were on the trip. Freddy sat on one of the cots, right next to Evan. They weren't speaking, but at least they weren't fighting. Across the room on another cot sat Scott, still clutching his ear, or, what was left of it… He was glaring in furious pain at Todd, but the amphibious boy didn't notice. He was in his own little world. Rogue and Lance were near a window at the back of the room. They were attempting a conversation, the southern goth belle just wasn't that easy to talk to. Besides, it's hard to make conversation when a frightened boy is holding a gun. Especially when he's shaking.
"Sugar, maybe ya should put tha' down."
He did as he was told. "So… how's life with the X-Geeks?"
"How do ya think?" She gave him her patented death glare, almost immediately regretting it. "Ah'm sorry, Lance; Ah'm just so scared raht now. What are we gonna do?"
"I wish I knew" was all he could say to her.
(:P)Not far from the camp showers…
Right after Scott's 'accident', Jean thought she had sensed someone in the woods. She'd followed them, hoping to take them out with her telekinesis or a psychic blast, but she couldn't quite find him. It was strange; one moment she'd hear screams, the next, she'd hear a happy child's laughter. She'd even gotten an image of a little boy playing at the lake with his mother! (A/N: a shout-out to Mrs. Voorhees & her fans!) But for some reason, she couldn't get a fix on the brain that was projecting it all. Needless to say, Jean Marie Grey was freaked out.
Just when she was about to go back, she started getting projections from this person again. Sounds this time; just sounds.
Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah…Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah…
It sounded like something out of a cheesy horror movie. All Jean wanted at this moment was to fight this guy and get it over with so she could go back to her cabin and this nightmare could end, but she still couldn't sense him clearly.
Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah…Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah…
She was losing it! She knew he was closing in, but she was too afraid to concentrate. It couldn't end like this, it just couldn't! But she couldn't use her powers all of a sudden.
"God, help me! Professor, ANYONE! Make it stop"
Jason heard her cries, he and was much obliged. He grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth to muffle the scream escaping her lips. Instinct took hold of Jean and she began to get a hold of herself, flipping him with her telekinesis. She was able to throw him ten feet and began to run, but Jason Voorhees never lets go of a kill when he can help it. He sliced off Jean's left arm to distract her with the pain. She let out a blood curdling scream, so he silenced her. In one quick swing and with a sickening sound, Jason's machete took off the red-head's…head.
Behind his hockey mask, the maniac grinned as her body still writhed, like a chicken with its head cut off. It was quite comical, really, if you were used to blood. But it always left him with the unsatisfied feeling that the victim had survived. In the back of his head, Jason could feel his mother begin to chide him. (A/N: a shout-out to Mrs. Voorhees & her fans!)
'Now, Jason, Sweetie; you can't just leave her like this! Your job isn't done yet! The little whore must die.'
He sighed and began the tedious work of dismembering the body. It just wasn't that much fun; she didn't squirm as much as if she'd been completely alive, and without her head she couldn't scream. There was no emotion. He took no pleasure in it as he flayed her open like a thanksgiving turkey until the movement stopped.
'There we go! Now, don't you feel great about a job well done? You're such a good son.'
He smiled to himself and thought, 'I love you, Mom.'
(:P)Meanwhile, on the other side of the bathrooms…
Sgt. Hawk had figured it was most likely a false alarm that this girl wasn't back yet. What was her name… Jean? This Jean girl just probably had to use the latrines or something! He shouldn't be out here; he should be back protecting and reassuring the other kids. This girl could fend for herself. He thought about how cowardly he sounded, but decided it wasn't that bad. Fear was a useful survival tool.
Behind him, he heard crunching leaves. Sgt. Hawk turned around.
"Who- Who's there?", he asked with trembling voice. Of, course, he knew who it was, but it was a standard question for a soon-to-be-murdered victim to ask.
God, did he ever wish he hadn't screwed up the paper work. It was completely his own fault that he was the only responsible adult at the camp, but he couldn't help but curse over it.
Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah… Chh-ch-ch, Ahh-ah-ah…
Now, the crunching came from the other side! He couldn't be that fast… Could he? Hawk was answered by the gleam of a blood-stained machete in the hands of the lake's most unhappy-camper.
"Holy shit…"
'Young man, you tell that blasphemer to watch his mouth right this instant!'
Jason charged the middle-aged instructor, but the sergeant had had military training. He'd been a Navy SEAL, in fact. He fought, knocked the blade right out of his attacker's hand. Jason had no choice, if he was going to punish the man quickly as his mother wished…
Sgt. Hawk let out a sort of growling bellow of pain as he was lifted from the ground: Jason placed his hand on the man's head and squeezed firmly, slowly increasing the pressure until his skull was crushed. Blood, bone fragments and grey-matter spewed out in different directions, and finally, his movement ceased.
Jason was content with a job well done, and pointed himself in the direction of the girl's cabin
A/N: BODY COUNT: two (2) #1: Jean Marie Grey, decapitated. #2: Sgt. James Marshall Hawk, Skull crushed. Rest In Pieces. More to come!
