"Magnus, turn that down! I can hear it from here!" said a very agitated Kurt Wallander from the driver's seat of his black S60 Volvo SUV. Magnus Martinsson woke with a start, head slumped down against the seat and IPod blaring R&B from his ear buds. He stretched his legs, and took out his ear buds. "Why, have we arrived?"

Kurt sighed. "Stop sounding like a teenager on a road trip, this is business. And, for god sake, get your bloody boots of the dash!" Magnus frowned as he removed his dirty shoes from the dashboard of the car, and sat up straight.

"Well, since I'm not a teenager, and you are not my dad, I can listen to my music as loud as I wish," he said matter-of-factly, putting his ear buds back in, preparing for another nap.

Kurt shook his head as he gripped the steering wheel, driving down flat suburban road. Magnus was smart, but could be incredibly irritating at times. They had been assigned to a case at a summer camp of a serial killer terrorizing local teens. Magnus had jumped at the chance to take the case with Kurt, and they were assigned.

They had to stay at the actual camp while they were working, one of the aspects of it that discouraged Kurt, but Magnus referred to it as a 'chance to get in touch with nature.' As long as there was a charging socket… he had said.

Kurt couldn't bear to listen to Magnus's loud beat coming from his IPod any longer. The young man was going to go deaf at that volume! As much as Kurt valued his silence during peaceful drives, this was not peaceful, so he turned on the radio. Soft, classical music flooded through from the station Kurt had pre-set. He relaxed a bit, and breathed steadily to the soft hum of the car engine.

Magnus stirred, and said, half asleep, "What is that dreadful sound?" Kurt opened his mouth. How could he hear the classical music over the drone of his own?

Over time, Magnus became restless, shifting from side to side. Eventually, Kurt turned the music down, and took out Magnus's ear buds. "Will you PLEASE try to stay still?! You're giving me a bloody headache!" he said, exasperated. Magnus just yawned in reply. "I'm hungry."

Kurt threw his hands up in defeat.

As they pulled into the nearest fast food joint, Kurt had to admit his stomach felt rather empty as well. They ordered two burgers and a large fries, and proceeded to the checkout. The joint was almost abandoned, other than an old, scruffy looking man sitting at one of the tables.

As they passed him, he said something. "So, yer goin' to the old camp by the lake, huh?" The two stopped and turned. "How did you know that?" asked Magnus. "Not many people come up here these days, not after all the murders… the only reason fer comin' out here would be that place."

Kurt showed interest in this. "Do you know anything about the place that we should know?" The man just laughed. "If you value yer lives, you shouldn't be messing around up there! The legendary man with the machete, Jason Voorhees, lurks about by that lake, and he means trouble!" Kurt just smirked. "That's nothing but a fairy tale. We're here to investigate the murders of 6 real, living, breathing teenagers that went missing three days ago."

The man leaned in closer. "And what do you think caused those murders?" Magnus shivered as a cool breeze blew though the drafty restaurant. How cliché… he thought, pulling his black leather jacket tighter to him.

Kurt nodded to the man as they left, still not believing in that silly urban legend. He was very practical, and didn't believe it possible for a man who had died to come back and massacre people. Actually the thought of it even amused him. But there was nothing amusing about the situation they were investigating.

Magnus sat in the car, wolfing down the fries. Kurt marvelled at this. "Excuse me, do you plan to leave me any?" Magnus gestured down at the box, mouth full, to reveal a lone fry left. Kurt sighed, and took it. Magnus took a bite of his burger. "That legend is kind of creepy," he admitted. "Yes, it's a creepy campfire story. But we're police officers, and we don't use ridiculous stories as evidence to a crime scene."

Magnus nodded slowly, squinting off into the distance. The wind blew through the open window, tossing his blonde curls all over the place. He ran his fingers through them, but they just flopped back over his face. He stared thoughtfully, then shook his head, and plugged into his IPod again, turning up the volume to max.

Kurt continued to drive, Magnus continued to snore, and they eventually arrived at the abandoned camp. Kurt shook Magnus awake. "Magnus? Wake up. We're here." Magnus sat up, rubbing his eyes. "That was quick…" he mumbled, once again stretching out his boots onto the dash. "Yes, well, a 5 hour drive can go by quite quickly for someone who sleeps through it all!"

As they got out with their bags, a woman came out. Magnus immediately readjusted himself in his seat as he saw her, and Kurt swatted his arm. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Martinsson. We're here for the case." Magnus snapped himself out of it, and they got out of the car as she approached.

"Hi there," she said, shaking their hands. "Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake. I'm Shelly Mason, and I was a camp counsellor here back when it was a camp," she said in a country accent. "I was asked to brief you on the details of everything that's happened?" Kurt nodded at the young woman. "Yes, thanks. Please, show us around," he said hastily, eager to get his things settled in one of the cabins.