Her eyes snapping open, Chris had no idea how much time had passed since she'd blacked out, though through a nearby window, she could see that it was still nighttime, and at first, she wasn't even sure where she was. She soon figured that out. The furniture was different, but having spent more than half of her life there, she'd never be able to forget what the inside of the house located at Higgins Haven looked like.
For some reason, she was naked, except for her socks and shoes, and her arms were tied behind her back, the rope tight and digging into her wrists. And that smell, what on Earth could that be? It smelled like a sewer almost. Frantically looking around as the stench invaded her nostrils, causing her to cringe, and she happened to look above her, only to find Peter's body, nailed to the wall with a pitchfork, blood crusted around his mouth, a jagged hole in the back of his lifeless head, though she couldn't see the latter from her position on the floor. However, she could make out the stain on the front of his jeans from where he had soiled himself upon death. She'd wonder if she was dreaming again if the smell wasn't so overpowering.
Chris began to tremble and cry as the reality of the situation truly settled in. She was back at the place she'd fought so hard to get away from physically, and afterward, mentally, and now another person in her life was dead. Murdered by the same man who'd murdered all of her other friends before. It seemed like she was destined to never have happiness nor peacefulness in her life, because whenever she found it, that man in the woods just found a way to destroy it again.
"I'm sorry, Peter," she said to his corpse, tears flowing down her cheeks, the thoughts of her happy life with him just causing more tears. He had been good for her, good in ways he never knew.
She needed to stand up, before that man came back for her. As she moved her legs about, she realized that there was a certain moistness between them and it didn't feel like sweat. She shuddered at the thought of what that man might have done to her while she'd been unconscious.
Chris didn't realize that Jason had been watching her the entire time, from a darkened hallway on the other side of the room. When she started trying to stand up, he snapped out of the daze he'd been in and stepped out of the shadows, walking towards her.
"Oh god!" she shouted. "What do you want from me?!"
He didn't respond, of course. When he reached her, he placed one hand on her shoulder, forcing her back onto the floor. Getting down on his knees, he then grabbed at one of her exposed boobs, his fingers pushing hard into her flesh, causing her to yell out in both pain and surprise.
"Please, just leave me alone!" she pleaded, not wanting him to touch her anymore than he already had. He had no right to touch her, yet he'd managed to do so before and he was doing so yet again.
At that, he let go of her boob, the flesh having turned red from his grip. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes seemingly looking into her soul from behind his hockey mask, before suddenly slapping her across the face, leaving behind a red hand print.
Chris began crying even harder, scared of how much worse it could get from there, and she didn't stop when Jason touched her boob again, only that time, he was gentler. He didn't grab at it like it was an animal he intended to eat, though she thought he probably still didn't see her as much more than that. He used his fingers to lightly rub her nipple and for a moment, she forgot to cry, as the pleasure of his touch began coursing through her, temporarily overriding her physical and mental anguish. In fact, she let out a moan, followed by a couple more. Realizing that she was enjoying this, he moved his free hand to her other boob and began to play with it too, rubbing and lightly pinching at her nipples, making them stiff, occasionally grabbing at her boobs themselves some more, but also doing so lightly.
She closed her wet eyes as he continued his massage of her boobs, her tense body relaxing, almost completely losing herself in pleasure. She could feel her pussy getting more moist, wanting attention of its own. The part of her that wasn't lost in pleasure kept yelling in her head that it was wrong, that she was enjoying the touch of the man who was seemingly intent on murdering everyone she ever even tried to care about. She didn't want him to stop though, because somehow, it brought her out of the hellish place she'd started to sink back into in her head.
She felt him withdraw those massive paws from her breast and opened one eye cautiously, equally afraid that he was either about to wrap them around her throat, or reach for some hidden, sharp object. Neither came to fruition however, and instead those hands that could easily crush her skull now ghosted over her brow, and his scarred fingers settled on the soft pillow of her lower lip. The scent of dirt and copper invaded her nose, and she twitched as that finger played along her lip.
His breath was quickening, and his roaming hands began to map out even more territory. It was all Chris could do to remain silent as those hands grazed over sharp peaks and onward to the valley. It all felt so eerily familiar, this infernally slow exploration of her flesh. She cringed slightly as his finger grazed a particularly sensitive spot, earning a quizzical look from behind the battered white plastic. Chris felt she would die with shame as he stroked that spot again, more deliberately this time, wrenching a cry from her lips. She could feel the blood rushing and pooling, could feel the hardness pressing against her thigh as he continued his assault on her senses.
It would be bad enough to be taken by this monster, but did her body have to be so traitorous? She steeled herself against his curious probing, lips tightly pressed to choke back the moan that welled in her throat. He was utterly distasteful to her in every way, a filthy, blood thirsty creature that had killed her friends and sullied her flesh in the quiet darkness of the woods that night so long ago. Even if she were by some twisted logic able to overlook the murder of her friends three years ago, and Peter this very evening nothing about him appealed to her at all. So how was it her body was beginning to respond to his advances?
A finger dipped into her, and it was all she could do to stifle a scream. Another soon joined in with the exploration, and Chris bit her lip with the shame of it all. She was growing wet, she could feel the moisture easing the friction, and although it was a balm for her abused parts, the knowledge that this thing could draw such a response from her body made her want to cry with shame. The fingers drove deeper, bumping against yet another sensitive spot and he was rewarded with a howl of pain from the girl bound on the floor. Or was it pleasure? Chris didn't know anymore, and she felt she was drowning.
He withdrew, and she could hear him fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Oh god, no.
She felt trapped in her own skin, forced to return to the memories she'd locked away for so long. That night, that awful night he'd chanced upon her in those woods. Now here he was, drawing flashes of long forgotten sensation from her as her mind relived those woods, and him. The crushing weight, the way she'd plead, screamed and finally only shuddered under his touch much as she was doing now. The ugly thought that he would one day return, the fear she'd long harbored in the back of her mind had become terrifying reality.
Now he began to grind against her more insistently, that hardness prodding against her insatiably. Another jolt of unexpected sensation shot through her, and she lost it. Chris struggled to collect herself, cursing herself for being so damned weak as to cry in front of him. She bit her lip harder, furious with him, with the situation, and herself. The coppery scent of blood and dirt mixed with effluvia continued to assail her senses until she felt like she was going to pass out. She could feel one of those massive hands moving to clamp down on her thigh with a bruising grip, and wrench her legs open with ease.
Chris whimpered, struggling to sit up and draw them back together only for him to reach out and slam her backwards while yanking upwards on one pale leg, leaving her flat on her back. She felt a wet squish as her head collided with the ground, and looked up to realize she had landed in the small puddle of blood that had formed below Peter's mangled corpse. Feeling it seep through her hair and onto her scalp she screamed and began kicking and thrashing at the masked man holding onto her leg.
Clearly irritated at her interruption, he let go of her leg and instead reached for her shoulders, almost casually batting away the fists that pounded at him. He clamped down on her shoulders and gave her a more decisive smack against the floor, followed by another one until her kicking and clawing ceased. Her head pounding now and the fight knocked out of her she could do little more than murmur pleadingly as he worked her legs open without any resistance this time.
Through a fog of pain she could feel him prodding her like a piece of underdone steak, almost like a small, very disturbed child might poke a dead animal with a stick. She could feel his calloused, dirty fingers drawing closer to her ass, and she moaned in despair.
"No, no, please, no", she whimpered, knowing that it wouldn't really make a difference, but unable to just lie there silently as he invaded her most personal places. The thought of those disgustingly filthy fingers pressing against her made her shudder almost as much as the pain beginning to creep upwards. He paused for a moment, that eye boring into her like a rusty corkscrew as he almost seemed to be considering her plea.
Then he pushed a big finger into that puckered entrance, and as if a fire had been lit under her Chris jerked up and screamed before dropping back to the ground and sobbing as he drew the finger back only to experimentally push it in again even harder. Apparently not satisfied he forced another one in, drawing a yelping cry from Chris who by this point seemed incapable of forming words.
Chris squirmed and screamed as Jason's two fingers were forced further into her ass. He could feel her sphincter tightening around his fingers, the heat of her bowels quickly warming his frequently cold fingers. She could feel him stretching her anus, quite possibly ripping it, if the hot pain that was shooting through that area was any indication. Fresh tears forming, she then felt him slide his fingers out of her asshole, though the pain was still there.
He stared at what he'd done to her. Her puckered hole, now a bit red and raw looking from his unlubed exploration, wasn't quite so tight anymore. He watched as her sphincter involuntarily closed a few times, almost as if it was winking at him. She gave him a look of hatred as he continued peering at her ass. Hatred for his unending physical and mental torment of her.
Noticing his hand drifting back towards her sore hole, Chris was expecting him to try sticking his fingers into it again, but instead, he lightly rubbed around it with one finger, and though that didn't completely wash away the pain she was still feeling from his digging, it did cause her to let out a moan, which made her angry with herself again. Her sphincter twitched even more as he continued massaging the area around it. She bit her lip, trying to stifle any further moans.
Jason moved his other hand back up to her chest, grabbing at one of her breasts again, lightly squeezing it a few times. His squeezing quickly got more aggressive though, like it'd been when he first touched her breasts. Grabbing her nipple with a couple of his fingers, he began to twist it as he simultaneously reinserted his fingers into her anus, causing her to scream in more pain, thrashing her body around in an attempt to get away from him. This only caused him to twist her nipple even harder and ram his fingers up her ass even further.
Just when she thought the pain couldn't get any worse, she saw blood begin to pour out from the tip of her breast as her nipple began to rip. He decided to stop when he saw this, but the damage was done. Part of her nipple hung loosely from her breast, blood dripping steadily from the wound. He let her experience her pain for a moment without his touch. She was crying and moaning in pain, her upper body partially slumped over to one side.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Chris cried out at him.
Of course, Jason gave no response, showed no sign that he even heard her speak. He just looked at her, his hockey mask emotionless as ever. Without warning, he then grabbed both of her legs, prying them back apart, and dragged her close to him again. Using the two fingers he'd previously used in her ass, he dipped them into the blood running freely from her mutilated nipple before rubbing that same blood around her anus, painting it red. Going back for more blood, he then slipped just one finger back inside her asshole, slowly moving his finger back and forth, spreading the blood around the inside of her hot asshole. Getting even more blood, he once again put two fingers in her ass.
She could still feel the previous pain, but at the same time, it wasn't as bad, the blood actually helping some. That wasn't exactly a good thing though. Every time he managed to bring her pleasure, she knew that no matter how her body reacted, it wasn't what she really wanted. She would never want him. She didn't dare say that to him though.
Jason noticed the juices dripping from Chris' pussy as he continued to play with her anus, prompting him to slip his fingers out of that hole and into her pussy instead, getting a gasp out of her as he wriggled his fingers into her soaking slit. When his fingers were well coated in her juices, he took them back to her anus, finding that he had an even easier time getting back inside of it. He began to pick up the speed at which he was sliding his fingers into her, making her moan louder.
When he removed his fingers again, they came out of her asshole with a wet pop. He watched as her sphincter did its trick again, some of the blood mixed with her pussy juices beginning to ooze out of her widened hole, and to his amazement, a few bubbles then formed, quickly popping, from some of the air escaping her ass. The blood he'd previously rubbed on the outside of her anus had dried, but there was still plenty of blood coming from her nipple and her womanly juices were still flowing too.
The bulge in Jason's pants was still there, that bulge that he'd rubbed against Chris previously, and to her horror, he decided to finish opening his pants, exposing his cock. Compared to his face, his cock was actually pretty normal looking, but it was just as dirty as his hands, maybe even dirtier. He began to take more of her blood and juices, getting the entire palm of his hand coated in them, and he proceeded to coat his cock, using that same hand. As disgusted as she felt by the sight of his cock, she also felt ashamed for the jolt she felt within herself at the sight of his cock, the jolt of wanting to feel his cock inside of her.
When Jason felt that his cock had enough of her blood and pussy juices on it, he moved even closer to her, his filthy cock brushing against her.
"Please don't do this," Chris pleaded, continuing to cry.
She had no way to stop him though. Deep down, she knew that she wouldn't be able to reason with him and tied up, she was very limited in how she could defend herself against him physically. Feeling the tip of his cock press against her anus, she cringed and squirmed underneath him. And then there was a burning pain as his cock began to slide up her asshole, her blood and juices not nearly enough in the way of lube. She screamed and cried even louder as his cock slid further and further inside her, his meat stretching her bowels.
When Jason was as deep into Chris' ass as he could get he began to pull his cock back out some, before shoving it back in, repeating that movement with more force each time, imitating the many teens he'd witnessed making love in his woods, usually right before he murdered them. She clenched her eyes shut as his cock tore through her asshole, the pain constant, killing off what little pleasure she'd been feeling from his previous groping and poking, bringing her back to the memories of her previous encounters with him.
She could hear his breathing getting heavier behind the hockey mask as he thrust his cock into her harder and harder. He was completely ignoring her signs of pain, focused solely on himself. Then she felt a new warmth within her. He was cumming, continuing to rail her as he did, shooting deep into her bowels. It was at that point that she blacked out again. Between the pain and the shock that he of all people had just cum inside of her, it was too much for her.
Jason withdrew his cock from her ravaged asshole, a lot of the blood having rubbed off of his cock, and stared down at her unconscious body. Mother would disapprove of an act such as sex, but mother wasn't there and as much as he loved mother, every boy had to keep some things to themselves.
When Chris came to again, she found herself looking up at the sky, still nighttime. Realizing that her hands were no longer bound, she sat up and glanced around. She was outside, on the wet grass, the open front door of the cabin behind her. In the moonlight, she could see the marks on her wrists where the rope had been. She rubbed at them and began to cautiously stand up, cringing in pain as she did. Her anus was extremely sore, making it difficult to move her lower body at all without irritating it further. For some reason, though she had her guesses, her pussy was sore too. She could also see that her nipple had finally stopped bleeding.
Not knowing where the man in the hockey mask was and not wanting to find out when he'd be back for her, she started to run, still naked, away from the cabin to start with, trying to think of where she could go from there. She saw that Peter's car was still parked outside, but she had no idea where the keys were. It seemed possible that they were on his body and at that thought, she stopped and turned to look back at the cabin. If his body was still inside of the cabin, maybe she could run in really quick and search him. But what if the man in the hockey mask was still inside too?
After a moment of contemplating, she decided to risk it. Running back towards the cabin, she dashed through the front door and headed to Peter's body, keeping an eye out for her tormentor. She paused briefly when she saw Peter again, still stuck to the wall by the pitchfork, and now she could see the hole in the back of his head through his mouth. She placed a hand over her own mouth, feelings of sadness and guilt over inadvertently causing the death of another person she cared about filling her once more.
Wiping away several fresh tears that had rolled down her face, she stepped forward and started searching through the pockets of Peter's pants. She quickly ran out of pockets though and still had no keys. Where could they be? Did he leave them in the car after she'd freaked out and run away? If he'd dropped them outside somewhere, especially in the woods, she'd never be able to find them. She was about to leave when she heard heavy footsteps approaching her from behind her. Spinning around, she saw that he was back, cock back in pants, ax in hands.
With nowhere to run to, she quickly picked up a nearby chair and moved towards a nearby window, smashing the chair into the window, breaking the glass and framework. Quickly looking back, she saw that he was quickly walking towards her and she threw the chair in his direction, not hitting him with it, but she did cause him to stumble over it as landed on the floor in front of him, giving her just enough time to climb through the broken window. Being careful to not cut herself on any shards of glass, she was grateful that he had left her shoes on when she landed on the ground on the outside and heard a crunch beneath her feet. She screamed when one of his arms followed her through the window, but she was just out of his reach, his fingertips barely able to brush her skin.
Running again, Chris knew her options were limited. She highly doubted that she could escape from him on foot. Fighting him with a weapon wouldn't be easy either. She decided to trying checking the car to see if the keys were still in the ignition. As she moved, she felt something begin to ooze out of her anus and start dripping down one of her legs. Looking down, she was horrified to see that it was his sperm, mixed with ribbons of red from her blood. She'd have to worry about cleaning that up another time though.
She didn't get far, because as she turned a corner on the outside of the house, she saw him stepping out through the front door and he saw her too, snapping his head in her direction. She knew she wouldn't be able to get past him to the car.
She began running in the opposite direction instead, towards the barn. She had many bad memories associated with it too, deeply overshadowing the few good memories she had about it, like much of Higgins Haven. Helping her father with hay and other tasks in the barn. Spending time with Rick, alone, in the barn. The doors were already open and she didn't hesitate as she stepped inside, disappearing from his sight. It looked much like it had the last time she'd been inside there.
She quickly looked around for something, anything, that she could possibly use as a weapon against him. Before she knew it though, he was there, standing in the doorway of the dark barn, his large form only making it darker by blocking out the moonlight. Raising his ax, he proceeded to throw it at her. Chris' eyes were wide with terror as she watched it spin threw the air, narrowly missing her, the sharp blade getting stuck in a wooden support beam.
Jason stepped into the barn, not taking his eyes off of her, and slowly moved towards her. Frantic and desperate, she tried to dash towards the ladder leading up to the loft. He was faster than her and he grabbed her by one of her arms, getting a scream out of her as she swatted at him with her other arm. He was stronger than her too though and he simply swung her by her arm into the wall of the barn, her head cracking into the hard wooden wall, knocking her to the ground, dazed.
Not wasting any time, he then scooped her up with one of his arms and started to carry her back towards the doors of the barn. In her dazed state, she at first didn't realize that he stopped at the barn doors, nor that he was reaching up for something with his free arm. When he started to raise her up though, she saw exactly what he had reached for: a noose. She began swinging and kicking at him, trying to get free, but it was too late. He easily managed to get the noose around her neck and he held onto her for a couple seconds longer, their eyes locking.
"Please stop! Please! I'll do anything for you!" she screamed, pleading.
Jason would never know if Chris meant her last words though. No one would never know, because that was when he released her, her body falling for a few feet, still screaming, before the rope pulled tight, causing her to stop falling and stop screaming at the same time, the rope breaking her neck with a snap that echoed within the barn.
For several minutes, he simply stared at her body, her feet dangling a couple feet above the ground, the mixture of his cum and her blood continuing to drip down her leg. He then went to retrieve his ax, yanking it out of the wooden beam with one hard tug. He brought the ax back to where she was and then swung it high, but not at the rope. The blade struck her neck, easily slicing through her flesh and bone, her now lifeless body slipping out of the noose and collapsing to the ground with a thump, her head falling and rolling on the ground next to it. Blood began to seep out of the stump of her body's neck, forming a small puddle.
Lowering the ax, Jason picked up Chris' head, holding it out in front of him by her hair. Her eyes and mouth were still open as they had been right before her death. He then exited the barn and headed back into the woods, carrying her head with him. The police would eventually discover his latest murders, but as usual, they'd be unable to find him. After all, no one knew those woods like he did. And they'd only be able to wonder: what happened to Chris Higgins' head?