Chapter Six

After making sure that Paul Holt understood what he said about anyone trespassing on Camp Crystal Lake grounds, Dep. Winslow climbed into his car and drove off out of the facility, back to his patrolling of the area.

Unexpectedly a large figure, who looked like they were wearing something over their head to conceal their identity, ran across the road and into the woods that were near to the desolate 'Camp Crystal Lake'. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

Winslow suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled the handbrake up, securing his police car to the spot in the middle of the road. Climbing out but not yet running after the individual Winslow chose to shout after them, "Hey! Hey you! Stop right there!"

The figure had no intentions of stopping, running deeper into the forest, giving Winslow no choice but to leave his patrol car and chase after them.

Winslow ran past countless trees, pushing away their connecting branches, jumping over small trenches, making sure not to lose his footing, and treading into muddy puddles, cursing that these were his best boots. Even though Winslow was the fastest runner on the Crystal Lake Police Force, he couldn't seem to catch up with the trespasser.

A way ahead of him the mysterious figure was also in good shape and had made it out of the woods, finding themselves at the outskirts of the isolated camp of Crystal Lake. Hearing the officer's shouts of stopping behind them, they hurried into the encampment, coming up to a small wooded building that used to be the counsellors' cabin way back when and disappeared inside. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

At long last, Winslow left the forest and found himself staring at the deserted Camp Crystal Lake. Camp Crystal Lake? What the hell is this guy doing in a place like this? He seemed to ask himself as he moved slowly towards the nearest building, both hands gripping his gun, which was down by his side.

Coming up to the first building, if he remembered correctly, this was the main cabin the counsellors used for cooking and relaxation. Winslow instantly hugged the wall, gun by his side, heart pounding like there was no tomorrow. Wondering whether the trespasser was inside, hiding, ready to jump out at him with a concealed weapon, but he had to take that chance.

Taking a breather Winslow raised his gun in the air with his left hand while reaching out for the doorknob with his right. In one swift movement, he opened the door and rushed into the cabin, gun out in front, aiming in the possible places they could be hiding.

Nothing. The place was just as derelict as everything else in this camp. All the furniture in the cabin was sodden with dampness and covered in cobwebs. Several of the windows were either empty of glass or smashed to pieces. Through most of them Winslow could see the Sun beginning to set behind the trees, colouring the sky around it in light pinks, purples and oranges.

Underneath his feet, the floorboards creaked with every step he took and he was worried that he might fall through them if he wasn't careful. Heading into the kitchen the wind blew through the empty windows, a cool chill crawling up his spine that made him flinch at every turn.

As soon as he was satisfied that no-one was in there Winslow started to double back, but before he could reach the door, the rotten floorboards underneath suddenly gave way and he suddenly found himself falling through the very floor…

When he awoke his vision was blurry and all he could see was a dim light, as though it was a long distance away. As he struggled to get to his feet, his legs felt like jell-o and thanking God they weren't broken. As his vision got better he realized that the light was in fact a lantern and when he looked further down the tunnel he found himself in, there were other lanterns evenly placed along both sides of the walls to light the way.

Did he light these? Does he live down here? Winslow kept asking himself allsorts of questions as he followed the lights to a wooden door. Not really wanting to go back and try to climb out the way he came in, Winslow had no other choice but to take the door.

Seeing as the door had no handles Winslow lifted a hand and carefully placed it on the dusty boards, using just a little of his might to push it slowly open. It creaked awfully and told himself that it could've woken the dead. Stepping inside Winslow couldn't help but gag on the smell that erupted from the room once he stepped inside. With a hand over his mouth and nose, he tried to assess what was inside but the smell was truly awful. Opposite him against the wall was a small, round table, and on top of it was a decomposing head of what might have been a woman. Scattered around the table were other bodies, one of whom looked in the same state as the head while another Winslow could see was the bloodied corpse of Crazy Ralph…obviously been recently killed by the state of his body.

"Oh, my dear God!" Winslow gasped as the sight and the smell was too much, backing off to get away from it. His back suddenly hit something, like somebody's chest, and when he turned to see who it was, he was facing the exact figure he was chasing earlier. He could tell it was a man, by his tremendous height and build, but couldn't see what he looked like because he had a pillow case wrapped tightly round his head with thin rope and with only one eyehole to see through.

"What the fuck?" The deputy exclaimed, raising his gun but the figure was too quick for him and swung the hammer he was holding in his hand forcefully into the side of Winslow's head, hearing a god-awful crack and a spray of blood gush from the wound. Winslow staggered backward, falling onto his back as the attack made his head feel incredibly light-headed.

The attacker didn't stop either. He trudged forward, his footsteps sounding like thunder, as he lifted the hammer and kept on bashing Winslow on different parts of his face, eventually leaving him in a bloody stupor. As he laid there, struggling to breathe and trying to crawl away from him, the figure wasn't yet satisfied and grabbed him hard by his hair.

Pulling him up Winslow let out a war-cry as loud as he could, hoping against hope that someone would hear his cry but surrounded by death, he knew that he was the only one there. The figure, with incredible velocity, then stabbed the hammer-claw viciously up through Winslow's neck and into the bottom of his jaw. The poor deputy couldn't do anything but gurgled as his blood filled his mouth, either dripping out of it or down his throat, also choking him. To put more emphasis on the attack the figure twisted the hammer, Winslow's jaw letting out a horrendous crack, before they pulled it back out and rammed it hard into the top of his head, killing him instantly.

Releasing it the figure allowed the now dead deputy to collapse onto the floor, along with the other corpses with the hammer still embedded in his skull.

Fulfilled, the figure turned on the spot and left the room, closing the door behind them and venturing into the night. The 'others' they needed to take care of on the top of their mind…