Hey guys, hope you're excited for this chapter. I've decided to update once or twice a week, HOWEVER, it might be more than that because I have no life and get bored quite easily. Lol. I hope you guys like this chapter…Mrs. Voorhees makes an appearance and she's a wee bit OOC, which wasn't intended, I promise. I kind of wanted to make her like Jason though…you know….misunderstood.

REVIEW!! … Or I will have Jason visit you tonight. -evil smile-

Oh yes and I'd also like to thank everyone that has reviewed, sent me a message, favorited me or added me to their alerts. You guys are amazing. *Muahhh*

Jason's P.O.V.

There they were…sitting around a small campfire getting hammered. The two boys in the group looked at the two girls with lust filled eyes. They couldn't wait to pounce on those girls after getting them liquored up. I just stared at them, waiting behind a tree. Their laughing and joking was nauseating. The sun was already down, and darkness had taken over the forest and camp. My machete was close at hand, as it always is. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle, I was ready. Before I could make my presence known, one of the guys stood up, said something to the group then walked into the woods. I cocked a brown and followed the little fucker.

I watched him as he stood with his back toward me; one of his hands was on the tree, helping him lean toward it. He through his head back and his shaggy dark hair fell back. How typical of a guy to piss on tree…in that same pose. I walked up behind him, as stealthily as I could. Unfortunately, there were dead leaves and twigs scattered everything, common foliage in any type of wooded area. I stepped on a twig making it snap in half. I quickly moved my hand to the handle of my machete, knowing that boy would have heard the twig.

The dark haired boy snapped his to the side, hearing the twig crunch. I had broken his concentration. He quickly zipped his pants and turned around, looking for the source of the snap. I had moved quickly to behind the tree that he had just urinated on. The boy took a step forward into the darkness and I watched him. He bent over and tried to see something on the ground, looking for evidence of a broken twig. I walked up slowly behind him. The boy stood up and turned around to see me standing behind him. He let out a loud gasp as I withdrew my machete and plunged it cleanly into his stomach. I pulled it out and the boy slowly dropped onto the forest floor, blood spilling out onto the ground. His crimson colored blood slowly dripped down the blade of my machete.

I broke out of my trance like state and heard the laughing of the other teens in the distance. I wasn't finished killing just yet. With my, now, bloody machete in hand I walked over to where the teens were partying. At first none of them realized I was present until a little red headed girl turned to see me and then let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her two friends jumped up, the other boy trying to be brave. He came at me, throwing fists into my chest. His blows did no damage what-so-ever. I looked down at him as he continued to try and be a big man. This was going to be fun.

I quickly grew tired of the boy's pathetic attempts to kick my ass. I took one hand and backhanded him hard; making him hit the ground with full force. Both girls screamed as I stepped over the boy and shoved the machete into his skull. I put one foot onto his forehead and ripped the large blade out. I heard the girls sobbing as they tried to run away. They ran off together, trying to get away from me and my deadly weapon. I ran quickly after them. I knew this camp like the back of my hand, there was no way that they would get away from me.

"Marissa…" I heard the voice of one of the girls. You could hear the fear that took hold of her voice. She tried to be as quiet as can be but her sobbing and sniffling made it difficult for her to stay well hidden. Also, the sound of the water they were sloshing through wasn't making them inconspicuous either. "…Shh…" The little red headed girl shushed her friend. They didn't want to participate in the fun that I was having. I could see them perfectly clear from where I was standing. They were trying to hide under a small bridge near the back of the camp. I began to walk closer to them. A two in one killing, my favorite.

I carefully made my way into the shallow water, not making a sound. I was a professional; I knew how to walk into the water without causing a disturbance. I slowly walked over to the blonde girl who was crouched behind the little red head. I didn't think I needed my machete for this. I grabbed her leg and began to drag her onto land. She screamed in terror as I touched her. I heard her friend screaming too, and she began to run out of the water.

I thought she had left her friend to fend for herself but then I felt something pointy and hard hit me in the back. I turned my head and saw the red head with a large branch in her hands. She continued to hit me with it, thinking she was actually going to do some damage. I still had my hand around the blonde's leg. I bent over and picked up her other leg with my free hand. I swung the girl at her friend, making the two collide hard. The hit was so intense I heard a few bones crack and break. The blonde was dead, the impact was so hard I must have broken her neck but the red head was trying to crawl away, crying out in agony, sadness and fear.

I threw the blonde onto the ground and made my way over to the red head. She looked up at me, terror strewn across her face. "Please, no…" She pleaded with me to keep her alive, tears and makeup running down her face. I thought for a moment that maybe Aislin wanted to have a little fun with this girl. I kept my gaze on her, trying to decided if I should let Aislin kill her or if I should relieve the rest of my stress. While I was thinking, the girl tried to crawl away yet again. I bent down and grabbed one of her legs. I was surprised that she didn't try to kick me. "Please, don't kill me…you can do whatever you want…just don't hurt me anymore…" Her pleading made me quickly decide to kill her myself. I didn't want to have to listen to her whine all the way back to my cabin.

I whipped out the machete and quickly brought it down, it landed in her throat. Blood spurted out of the wound when I removed the blade. She began to make gurgling sounds as I stared down at her dying form. I looked into her eyes for a brief second and saw that they were now blank, lifeless. I smiled inwardly to myself and stalked off, making my way back to the cabin…back to Aislin.

Aislin's P.O.V.

I watched as the rats nibbled at bits of paper and cloth that scattered the room. Jason had been gone for awhile and I couldn't help but wonder what was taking so long. I figured there must have been a bunch of people at the camp and he was enjoying his time murdering each and every one of them. I put my head back against the grating and closed my eyes. My nose had finally gotten used to the smell of the rotting corpses in the next room but now it was picking up on another smell. It was probably my body odor. I hadn't been able to take a shower in two days…I was starting to stink and I didn't like it one bit. I hate being dirty…I hate feeling dirty, smelling dirty, looking dirty. I'm not a killer who can walk around covered in blood; I have to take a shower immediately.

I lay on the bed after a few minutes. Even though I was dirty and felt disgusting, I was also extremely tired. There was a part of me that didn't want to sleep, because I still wasn't fully sure of why Jason wanted to keep me alive. I closed my eyes, trying to tell my brain not to let me fall asleep. However, I could feel the drowsiness taking over my body.

I opened my eyes and looked around the room. Jason still wasn't back. I looked down at my shackles and realized that they were unlocked. I cocked a brow and wondered if maybe Jason had changed his mind about letting me leave. I slipped my hands out and hopped off the bed. I stepped carefully around the rats, not wanting to step on them as I made my way down the long tunnel. I had never seen what the rest of his lair looked like and I wasn't entirely sure how to get out. I knew that Jason had come in and out of this way a few times, so I just figured that's where the door was. I came to a dead end and looked up at the ceiling, seeing a trap door. I clicked up onto the dirt crawlspace and pushed open the trap door. I hopped up and sat on the floor and looked around the room. From what I could see, it looked like someone's bedroom, more than likely Jason's. I stood up and wiped the dirt and dust off my butt as I walked over to a dresser and examined the things that sat upon it. I saw children's toys, such as a "Yankee Doodle" ukulele, a stuffed monkey and other little toys.

I looked over to the bed and slowly walked over to it. There was a ragged old teddy bear sitting up next to the pillow and then I saw the name carved into the bed in large letters. J-A-S-O-N. I traced the letters gently with my fingers. I knew this had to be his room, but where was he? I walked outside into the darkness. I had never seen the camp before. When Jason had brought me to his underground lair, he had knocked me out. I turned to look up at the house. I cocked a brow. I wasn't sure why there was a house here; I thought Jason had lived at a camp.

As I stared up at the house, I heard a sound behind me. It sounded like a leaves crunching. I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around and peered into the darkness, not seeing anything or anyone. "…Jason…is that you?" How stupid am I? I mentally slapped myself, knowing full well that he didn't talk. Like most horror movies would go, I walked into the darkness. I wasn't afraid, however. I'm a killer myself, so I felt I had nothing to fear. I knew how to handle myself and I knew how to keep myself safe.

I heard more leaves crunching. Who was following me and where the fuck were they? I turned around quickly, expecting to see someone. Of course, no one but me was around. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search around me. "Hey…" The voice was a whisper, it sounded close to my head but there was no one around me. "…Come here…" I did a 360 and still saw no one. Where was this voice coming from? This voice was feminine and it was unfamiliar to me. I decided to speak to it. "Come where? Where are you?"

"Come back to the house…" I turned on my heel and walked back to the house. I was a little unnerved by the voice but I calmed myself down the best I could. I didn't want to be caught off guard. I walked up the steps and walked into the small house. I turned the corner and walked into Jason's room and saw a woman sitting upon the bed. "…Who are you?"

She slowly turned around and looked up at me. She was an older looking woman, her hair was white. There were defined wrinkles on her face. She wore a red turtleneck sweater. "I'm Pamela Voorhees…it's nice to meet you my dear." Her voice wasn't exactly kind. She sort of sounded like a pissed off grandma, or a sadistic one. I furrowed my brows. This was unbelievable. I didn't even know that Jason's mother was still alive.

"What do you want…?" My voice trailed off. I wasn't sure why she wanted to talk to me now, why couldn't she have done it when Jason first brought me there...unless she was out doing "errands."

"I wanted to see how my son was keeping chained up. I can see by the way he acts around you, that he seems to like you…" I cocked a brow. What the hell was she going on about? He liked me? I had to wonder in what way he liked me. "I've never seen him respond to a girl like this before."

I stared at her. I wasn't sure of what to say. "I don't understand…" That was all that I could mutter out. She shook her head as she continued to look up at me. "Don't worry about it right now. I'm sure you're full of questions about my son." I nodded.

"Yes. I have a lot actually." She patted the bed, silently telling me to take a seat next to her.

"Well what would you like to know?"

I scanned my brain for a moment. "Why doesn't he talk?" This was a question that burned in my brain for a few days now. I knew that he didn't talk but I didn't understand why. I wasn't sure if he wasn't able to or if he just didn't want to. Or maybe he just had nothing to say.

His mother stared at me for a minute. "Haven't you heard the stories?"

"Somewhat. All I know is that he died here…supposedly at long time ago." She nodded at me. She didn't know but the only story I heard was that he died here when he was young and ever since then he had been killing people.

"Well…I'll tell you his story…I'm sure all of your questions will be answered." She turned towards me and made herself a bit more comfortable. "Jason was born on June 13th, 1946…" A smile played at my lips…how interesting…we shared the same birthday, just not in the same year. "Unfortunately, Jason has physical deformities, which made growing up very hard for him. I was very protective of my son…and I still am…" She threw a threatening glance at me. "He didn't go to school, so he never had any friends. Jason never got sick or showed any physical pain…I just wouldn't let him go. I know how cruel children can be.

"I needed to work for my money, as my husband left me and Jason alone. I ended up getting employed here at the camp as a cook. That was the first time Jason was exposed to other people…adults, teenagers, children…" Her voice died down and she looked over at the headboard on the bed and slightly smiled. She turned back to me. "Because of Jason's physical deformities, he was picked on all the time. He used to come home to me, crying his little eyes out. He didn't understand why the children were being so cruel to him … but I knew why. And I wished that I hadn't put him through that…" I frowned a bit. I felt horrible that she took the blame for her son being bullied when in reality it really wasn't her fault.

"…Mrs. Voorhees…it's not your fault. Like you said children are cruel…and I'm sure they got what they deserved." There was a hint of vengeance in my voice. I hated bullying. I was bullied as a child, probably not to the extent Jason was bullied, but it still hurt to recall those memories.

She looked up at me and smiled kindly, that was the first time since I'd seen her that she smiled. "Thank you, dear." I merely nodded and let her continue with her story. "So…one day in 1957, the camp counselors weren't paying attention and Jason was thrown into the lake. The police said it was an accident but I don't believe that for one goddamn minute. But regardless…no one helped him and he ended up drowning in the lake. After a year, I came back to the camp and killed the counselors that I believe were responsible for his death. They should have been watching him…at all times. I needed more though, I felt all the counselors were responsible…so I went around the camp, killing everyone…until one little bitch got the better of me…" I raised a brow. There were a hundred emotions going through my head; I was mad, sad, confused. "She had a machete in her hand…and she beheaded me…" Now I was really confused. Mrs. Voorhees must have seen the confusion in my eyes. "Yes, I'm dead too…" I had to wonder for a moment if I was dead as well. This was so weird. I had no idea what the fuck was going on.

She looked toward the door and then back at me. "Jason is home…" With that she stood up and walked out the door. I hopped off the bed and went after her, I needed to ask her more questions. When I got to the door, she had merely disappeared. I stood in the doorway, baffled. What the else was going on? I turned around and felt something grab me and then I screamed loudly.

I quickly opened my eye and throw my fist at whatever was in front of me. Jason grabbed my hand, stopping me from clocking him in the face. I quickly sat up and looked around…I was in the dark room. I had been dreaming. My breathing my heavy and fast, like I had just run a marathon. I looked up at Jason. I was so confused…that dream seemed so real to me. "….I…just saw your…mother…" I could hardly speak. I wasn't sure what was going on.

He tilted his head to the side, probably unsure of what I was telling him. "Yeah…In this dream I just had…she was telling me about what happened to you and what she did the counselors…" He continued to stare at me. "I'm so sorry they did that to you…" I didn't know what else to say but I did know that I wanted him to see how sorry I truly felt for him. I never understood why kids were so mean to one another. When I was growing up my mother made it clear to me that everyone was different and sometimes people didn't always look "normal."

He stared at me for a few more minutes then put his hand on my chest and lightly pushed me back down onto the bed. I was still exhausted and he could probably tell by my drooping eyes. I laid back and looked at him and he just stared back at me. I wished that he was able to talk, able to tell me whatever he wanted. It was strange…I had only been here a few days but after the conversation I had with Jason's mother I was able to understand him more and I felt like I was able to connect with him more because of that. To me, he didn't seem like the evil killer that people pegged him to be. He seemed to be misunderstood and in need of somte TLC.

I had closed my eyes but I still felt him next to me. He put his hand on one of my legs and watched me as I fell asleep. It was quite comforting to me. He was already better than Niko.

Just incase anyone didn't know ... TLC means 'tender loving care.' I meant to add that earlier but I completely forgot!!