Ch. 5

They just stared back at me, more forcefully than before. I wasn't really all that afraid of them, just in serious awe of them.

All three of us left Freddy there and went back to the TV room. Michael was irritated, jumping up and down and pointing at the TV screen, as if to say, "Hey! I missed the ending of my movie!" The end-credits were now rolling on the TV screen.

Jason then held up the Friday the 13th DVD again, and Michael brandished his knife at him, not threateningly, just irritated at the fact that he missed the ending of his movie.

I made up for this by saying, "But Michael, you already know what happens: you kill everybody and leave Dr. Loomis and that little girl alive. Bada-bing, bada-boom, end of story. Until the next movie, of course. Besides, Jason and I watched your movie with you, and he's been waiting to show us his movie."

Michael, angry now, charged at me, his knife raised, but ran into the obstacle that was Jason's fist. Jason did this, as if to say, "Don't you dare." Michael looked at him with surprise and confusion in his eyes, and then went to sit on the couch with an irritated look in his eyes now.

I looked at Jason appreciatively, and he cocked his head, and then went to sit by Michael, after handing me that DVD of his. I turned my back on them, not afraid, per-say, but a little giddy, and took out the Halloween disc, put it back in its case on the shelf full of DVDs, and took out the Friday the 13th DVD disc and put that in.

I went to sit in my chair, knowing to give Michael and Jason their space until they got used to me. This was how the day went, and we alternated between Jason's movies and Michael's movies, each silently cheering for themselves on the screen.

Then I got hungry, and my stomach growled. Michael gave himself a "mask-slap", as if to say, "Duh. Of course she would have gotten hungry, but why does it have to be now?" The Michael on the TV screen was about to kill that little girl I'd referenced earlier.

Jason looked at me and Michael, confused.

Then Michael, seriously irritated now, got up and yanked me out of my chair. I followed, not having a choice, of course, stumbling on my own two feet in the process. Jason followed, pausing the movie, making sure Mike wouldn't hurt me.

It was like he'd totally forgotten the fear and the moment of kindness I'd shown him earlier, when he'd fallen on the floor to dodge Freddy's razor-glove.

His hand was hard on my wrist, and I was sure it would leave bruises there.

He took me to the kitchen, and empty alcohol bottles were everywhere. Mike let go of my wrist and slammed his fist into the kitchen counter-top, irritated, as if to say, "First we're landed here with no explanation with people we don't know, then we got to save the kid from pizza-face in there, next I miss the ending of my movie, then I gotta watch several movies about hockey mask over there, and now the kid's hungry. Will this never end?"

Jason, who appeared behind me, watched with me as Michael got the ingredients out for a basic cheese sandwich. He turned the oven burners on, and put a skillet on top of that. The sizzle of the cheese made my stomach growl again.

Michael held up one finger in an annoyed manner, as if to say, "Hold it for a sec, will ya?"

Jason just continued to watch, curious and confused.

Then Mike got out a plate, and two slices of bread. He took the cheese and put it on one slice of bread and put the other slice of bread on top of that. After turning the oven burners off and putting the skillet in the sink to be cleaned (Jason and I were watching still as he did all this), he thrust the sandwich on the plate to me.

I took it very carefully, whispering, "Thank you, Michael."

Jason went to stand by Michael as they watched my reaction to the sandwich.

I took a bite.

"This is fantastic!", I complemented Mike. "Compliments to the chef."

Mike cocked his head, not sure what to make of positive responses to himself.

Swallowing the last bite of the sandwich, I went and put the plate in the sink.

I turned around, realizing something.

"Hey, you three don't act as though you're shocked about being here."

Jason and Michael shrugged in unison, as if to say, "Eh. We're used to this place by now. It's not too shocking once we realized there was no danger, besides ourselves of course."

"But what about being at home?"

They shrugged again, as if to say, "Like we 'told' you before, we're used to this place by now. When we found you, we realized that we could kill somebody, and that made it a little bit like home. Like you, we were surprised about being here before we found each other. But we three were all in the living room when we first got here, so we weren't surprised too long, of course."

"Have you three been here before, and do you know each other?"

They both shook their heads, as if to say, "No to both questions. We've never been here before, and we've never met before."

"Wasn't it surprising when you first saw each other?"

They exchanged looks with their eyes, and looked back at me, shaking their heads, as if to say, "Kind of. But once we got who we were across to the other men, it wasn't so bad." They chuckled silently, as if to say, "Kind of hard, since only one of the three of us can talk."

"But then how did you tell each other who you were?"

Michael moved his hands in the action of writing in mid-air, Jason watching him, curious and confused, as if to say, "We wrote it."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that you wrote down stuff to convey what you wanted to say before? It's kind of hard deciphering what you're trying to say to me or to each other just through your body language!"

Jason cocked his head at me, while Michael crossed his arms, as if to say, "That sounds like a personal problem."

Jason elbowed Mike in the stomach, and Mike stepped to the side.

Mike cocked his head, as if to sigh, and took out a small pad of paper and a pencil from his pocket. He wrote, Sorry.

"That's ok, Michael." I held my hand out to shake his hand, and he, very slowly, put his hand in mine. His grip was tense, as though he was nervous, and I could feel the strength he could exert, if he wanted to hurt me.

I knew how fast Michael, or Jason for that matter, could snap.