Chapter Ten
It'd had been a long while now since Vicki had left to change and Mark was starting to get just a tad worried. Since then he's wheeled himself into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and was now back in the living room, playing on one of the electronic games. It had also started raining when he'd entered the kitchen, the thunder continuing to roar in the sky sounding like war drums followed by the sudden flash of lightning. He could hear the soft sounds of the rain pitter-pattering on the porch roof outside and smiled. He'd always like the sound of rain and thunder. Ever since he was a little boy it always soothed him while it terrified others.
With Jeff and Sandra still busy upstairs and the others not being back yet from the bar, Mark was on his own and wondering where Vicki could've got to. Then he heard something. Something that sounded like it was coming from outside. On the porch. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)
Mark looked up from his game and called, "Vicki?" No answer. He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his game when the sound occurred again. This time a little louder. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)
"Vicki?" No answer again. "Vicki, is that you?" Mark called out again, this time putting the game down and wheeling himself to the door. Now intrigued in finding out who or what was making that noise.
Pushing himself out through the storm door Mark rolled onto the porch, looking left and right but not seeing anybody. Not even Vicki. Moving forward until he was just a foot or two away from the long stairs that lead down to the beach, Mark looked left and right again just to check that no-one was sneaking up on him. What felt like hours passing by, but only mere seconds, something glinted right in front of the porch stairs and immediately caught Mark's attention. (CH CH CH AH AH AH) As he bent right over to pick it up, the sudden momentum of a machete slicing through the air caused him to topple over and fall right down the stairs!
He didn't even see who'd attacked him as he continued to tumble down the stairs, pain on every inch of his body as it whacked against the stony stairs until he landed face first and in a heap on the wet mud below. The attacker; who was obviously a man, being very tall, wearing dirty clothes and face obscured with a white pillowcase with a hole in it for his one eye to see through, stepped down the stairs, machete in hand, with one thing on his mind. As he neared the sprawled victim, he could see that he was trying to crawl away but with a broken arm and not enough strength in the other to do so, he wasn't going to get very far.
Mark, whose blood spluttered out his mouth, cried out in pain as he tried his hardest to crawl away but it seemed futile, what with his strength literally zapped away from him. Over the light rain he could hear his attacker's footsteps, sounding like thunder themselves, as they approached him from behind. Their feet on either side of his body, looming over him. He was abruptly grabbed by his hair, pulling him up high enough so that his chest was in the air and his stomach lay in the wet mud. Mark didn't see what was coming next.
"Aaahhh--uunnhh!" Mark hollered, the hulking figure spearing his machete, which he gripped tightly, right through Mark's throat so vigorously that his blood sprayed everywhere. After a few seconds of hearing his victim gurgling on his own blood, he twisted the machete, opening the wound even more before slicing it vertically, leaving Mark half-decapitated.
Like most of the others, the figure grabbed Mark by his ankles and pulled him away, out of sight, leaving behind a dragging trail as well as his blood. It will soon be washed away by the rain…(CH CH CH AH AH AH)
"Huh! Huh! Hunnhh!" Sandra gasped, straddled on top of Jeff while lay below, hands gripping her slender hips as she bounced up and down. The fast movement causing the bed to creak incessantly but not really caring that they could be heard.
Downstairs the hulking figure, who'd quickly hidden Mark's body, stepped into the quiet house, now with only two residing inside, his course straight for the stairs. On the bottom, stood up against the wall, was the spear that Ted had used with his costume and mask in order to scare the others when Paul was telling them his story about Jason Voorhees. Now he was picking it up, throwing the mask that was hooked on it away and ascending up the stairs, with one thing on his mind…(CH CH CH AH AH AH)
"Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck! YYYEEESSS!" Sandra was practically screaming her words as she was on the verge of her orgasm. Jeff, with his eyes tightly closed and his teeth clenched together, continued to thrust from under her, his breath quickening and his skin, like hers, secreting with sweat.
"Almost…there, Sandra!" Jeff gasped, still holding onto her by her hips as she continued to bounce on top of him, her fingers gripping her hair tightly.
A few minutes afterward, they both cried out their climaxes, Sandra's muscles tightly around Jeff's arousal as he milked everything he'd got inside of her. A second later Sandra collapsed on top of her lover, both completely spent, and panting like they'd just ran a marathon.
"That…was…fantastic, babe," Jeff managed to say through his gasping as he leaned up and kissed her on the forehead, Sandra smiling as he did so.
"Did you think anyone heard us?" She asked, a wide grin on her face, knowing already what her answer would be as Jeff was too exhausted to talk now so he just nodded, kissing her on the exact same spot on her forehead again.
Too engross in each other, they both didn't hear the sound of the door opening slowly or see the huge figure entering the room with a large spear in his hands (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Well, they did have the lights off and they were giggling like they were kids. Sandra sat up, still straddling Jeff, and let out a cat-like stretch, her arms looking like they were trying to touch the ceiling. Jeff happened to swerve his head to his left and immediately gasped in horror as a strike of lightning illuminated the otherwise darkened room and noticed the hulking figure with a white pillowcase covering his head. Gripped tightly in his hands was the spear Ted had used in the stunt, he and Paul had pulled that night around the campfire.
"What the fuck?" Jeff gasped, Sandra noticing the horrified expression on his face and turning to see what had caused it. And see it she did, but was too late to do anything as the figure rushed beside the bed and forced it vigorously through her back, it protruding out through her chest, right between her breasts to be exact. The sudden attack caused her blood to spray all over Jeff, the bed and the wall behind them as the killer then proceeded in lifting her right up into the air.
At this time Jeff had slid off the bed and was crawling toward the wall, sitting up against it and screaming so loud he wondered why the hell the others weren't running to their rescue. Sandra must've lasted for another few seconds before she slumped forward on the spear, blood continuing to trickle down her body and onto the bed. The killer, realizing that she was now dead, threw her onto it before spinning around to face the cowering Jeff. Jeff, naked as the day he was born covered in Sandra's blood, immediately climbed to his feet and ran for the door. Managing to reach it, Jeff slipped past it before the killer could grab him, unsheathing his machete from its holster as he did so.
Crying hysterically at the fact that the fucker had just killed Sandra, Jeff descended down the stairs, not caring in the least that he was stark naked, when the killer managed to grab him by his hair.
"AARRGGHH!" Jeff cried out, feeling the sudden pain it gave out as his hair was gripped and pulled tightly. Tears formed and streaked down his cheeks as Jeff was persistent in getting himself out of the killer's grip, blood starting to seep down his face as he did.
The pain was intense but he would have to endure it if he wanted to get out of this alive. With a final tug Jeff had managed to free himself, screaming out again as clumps of his hair was pulled out, leaving behind bald patches covered in blood. Literally jumping down the rest of the stairs Jeff fell onto his front but quickly got up again, bounding for the front door, looking for the others clearly having left his mind. Once outside Jeff turned his head left and right, heart pounding so hard it could burst out his chest, not being able to think straight because of it. Running on pure adrenaline.
Choosing to run to his right instead of down the stairs to the beach area, Jeff jumped down the small set of steps, slipping on the wet mud caused by the heavy downpour and falling onto his front again. Struggling to get up, thanks to the pelting rain, Jeff managed to get back on his feet, yet his entire front was now caked with the wet mud. He didn't seem to care though. What was a little mud when there was a psycho killer hot on his tail? Speaking of which, he turned back around to see if he was following him and thankfully Jeff couldn't see any sign of him. Which, to him, wasn't entirely a good thing. The fucker could jump out of nowhere.
Not wanting to wait and find out, Jeff turned around again and climbed up the small hill that led to Paul and Ginny's cabin as well as the pebbled road which led out of the camp. He chose to go to the former; not wanting to run anymore in the rain as his feet were starting to go numb, and he was shivering like crazy. As he climbed up the small set of wooden steps onto the porch, Jeff risked a quick glance behind him and saw that the hulking killer was just stepping down the steps he'd jumped down before slipping in the mud moments before. The killer was looking left and right, searching for the one that had gotten away before his eyes set themselves on the mud before him (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Oh shit! Jeff exclaimed in his head, realizing that the killer had just noticed Jeff's footprints in the mud.
Wasting no more time Jeff rushed across the porch and opened the door into the cabin, closing it behind him quickly but as quietly as possible. He then proceeded on locking it as best he could before falling down on all fours, so as not to be seen when he passed any windows. Crawling hastily through the small kitchen and into the bedroom beside it, using the moonlight seeping in through the windows as guidance, Jeff headed toward the wardrobe and slowly opened the door, praying to God that it wasn't going to make a sound. Thankfully it didn't so Jeff was able to pull off a pair of Paul's jeans from the hanger without making too much noise.
Even though Paul was broader round the waist than Jeff muscularly, they still managed to cling onto his hips as he buttoned and zipped them up before closing the door again. Somewhat glad now that he wasn't naked any more. As soon as he closed the door though, he saw from the corner of his eye the killer as he passed the window from the right, machete in hand (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Jeff immediately sunk to his knees, scurrying across the floor until his back hit the wall beside the window, both hands over his mouth to make sure that he didn't make any sudden sounds.
The killer stopped to peer through the window with his one good eye, Jeff seeing his huge silhouette in the moonlight mimicking the action before he disappeared out of sight. After a few seconds of waiting Jeff let out a quiet sigh of relief, trying to get the breath back that he'd held in. Unexpectedly the room exploded into a cluster of shattered glass as the killer had jumped through the window! Jeff immediately scurried across the room, heading back to the front door when a large hand grabbed him roughly at the scruff of his neck. He abruptly thrown him back into the bedroom, landing hard on the floor, some of the glass sticking into his back.
Jeff clenched his teeth; the pain in his back unbearable, knowing full well that he'd be bleeding in a matter of seconds. Looking up Jeff could see the killer clearly now; a white pillowcase covering his head; a single hole for his eye to see through; dirty overalls that looked like they hadn't been clean for like forever; the machete tightly gripped in his left hand, ready to strike. Knowing that it was now or never, one of Jeff's hands gripped a large glass shard and before the killer could strike out with his machete, Jeff raised the shard high into the air and vigorously stabbed it right into the hulk's thigh, whom let out a mighty roar as it was pushed in deeper.
Letting go Jeff scurried to his feet and raced for the shattered window, now his only escape, his mind not thinking about his bleeding hand which was cut by gripping the shard. As he practically lunged himself out of the shattered window, a piece of shard that stuck out from the window pane sliced him as he dove through, cutting a vertical line down his side. Jeff clenched his teeth and groaned at the sudden, sharp pain that resembled there, rolling onto his back on the wet grass outside.
Holding onto the bleeding wound with one hand, Jeff staggered to his feet, the sudden attack to his side already taking its toll on him. Hurrying as fast as he could into the woods, Jeff kept looking behind him to make sure the killer wasn't following. Brushing past overgrown branches and trying to ignore the pain in his side and the stabs at his feet from the wild flora on the ground, Jeff pushed himself to his limits. He knew he was moving away from the camp but his best bet was to find the main road and hoped to God that a passer-by will stop to help him.
As he passed the trees that looked like they were about to attack him from everywhere he turned, with their branches outstretched in front of them like arms, Jeff thought he heard footsteps and instantly started to panic. Putting as much pressure on the wound as he could, Jeff climbed round a rather thick tree and pushed his back up against it, trying to slow down his breathing so as not to give away his position. Just as he did however, the killer entered the small cluster of trees and scanned the area for any signs of him, machete still in hand but now with a wounded leg from Jeff stabbing him with the shard (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Jeff near enough held his breath as he waited for the sound of footsteps to disappear, eventually doing so after what felt like an eternity. Once he felt sure it was safe to take a look Jeff ever so slowly edged himself around the tree to take a peek and saw that the killer was no-where in sight.
Back with the 'finding of the main road' plan Jeff went to turn around to start jogging in the opposite direction he came in from but was instantly surprised to see the killer standing motionless just a foot behind him. Seeming to appear out of fucking nowhere.
What the fuck? The words entered his thoughts, wondering how the hell someone his size managed to move without making a sound when the hulk launched the machete so fast and strong that it gored Jeff through the chest and lifted him into the air, pinning him to the tree behind him, blood painting the side of the tree's trunk. The sudden thrust caused Jeff to cough up blood, reddening his lips as it dribbled down his chin.
The killer, watching as Jeff took his last few breaths, tilted his head to the side for a moment, as though trying to study the picture in front of him, before leaving Jeff to hang, disappearing into the trees, on his way back to the camp for the others (CH CH CH AH AH AH)…