The drive back to Crystal Lake seemed to last for an eternity; with Sheriff Haskell interrogating them and the thought of uncovering Kevin's body for a second time, the trio of teenagers did their best to fend off the bloodcurdling nightmares that threatened to overwhelm them.
"Unless you three starting speakin' up, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to phone your parents and bring you all back down to the station for some extreme questioning, maybe even overnight," Sheriff Haskell grumbled threateningly. "We don't take murder cases too lightly in this town, ladies."
"We already told you everything we know," Nicole snapped from the backseat, flustered. "Kevin Dixon and Miranda Cortez, two college kids who graduated from our school last year, went over to a cabin at the lake last night. The three of us plus Nathan Matthews, who's waiting for us by the gates, headed down to the camp to look for our friends when they didn't call me this morning. That's when we found Kevin's dead body stuffed inside his car."
To emphasize her terror, she randomly burst into tears and collapsed atop a petrified Erin.
Sheriff Haskell nodded solemnly; it all seemed to check out - a few concerned friends searching for their lost pals in the woods...when would kids learn that Camp Crystal Lake wasn't the ideal spot for a romantic night?
"I want you all to get out of the car with me," he mumbled, shutting off the blaring sirens as they approached the campgrounds. "I need to make sure nothing was taken or moved from the scene."
Gwen, exasperated, leaned back in her seat; when her mother found out about what she had been through that afternoon, she'd be sent away to a reform school, without a doubt.
Things just keep going from bad to worse...
Violently massaging her temples, she turned to Erin, who had squeezed her beady eyes shut...Gwen sighed heavily; if she hadn't been so damn curious about Kristen Greenwald and Stevie Parker, none of this would have happened...
It was all her fault...that stupid appearance at the Halloween party had ruined everything...
Clearly, of course, it was a little too late to back out now; she was up to her neck in suspense, which was what she had wanted, after all...
But now three people were dead...
And where the hell was Miranda?
xxx
Sheriff Haskell looked up from the steering wheel as the patrol car approached a battered, weather-beaten sign reading Camp Crystal Lake - Est. 1935 in sloppy, almost unreadable letters; the sign, nailed to a rotted tree, was complete with a faded white, painted arrow that directed motorists down a nearby gravel path farther up the uneven road.
Birds squawked and squealed as the police officer performed a sharp turn down the path, jolting Erin out of her mindless daze.
At first the teenager seemed completely disoriented and confused until she realized just where she was; a look of pale, shivering dread painted itself across her worn face.
"Please, no," she protested feebly, gingerly pounding at the rain-drenched car windows. "Don't drag me back to that awful place, please...!"
Sheriff Haskell ignored the pleas as he drove down the trail, eyeing the identical sign that randomly popped out of the gnarled, scraggly underbrush, indicating the campgrounds just ahead.
He had a job to do, after all...the poor kid's family deserved some sort of closure, especially if he had been missing the entire night and into mid-morning.
Then again, those three girls shoved inside the patrol car had gone through quite a bit themselves; he remembered how horrified he was when he saw his kid brother run down by a drunken driver back when he was just a child himself...of course, it only seemed like the blonde one was especially close with the victim; the one in black and one with glasses acted as if they had just been shoved into the middle if this nightmare against their will.
He'd have to get to the bottom of such nonsense somehow...
Sighing, Sheriff Haskell slowed to a stop just as rain began to fall from the overcast skies above - the front gates, a seemingly-empty Honda, and a shivering, tanned teenage boy were only a few hundred feet away in the distance.
Nathan looked up as the patrol car approached, and he breathed a silent breath of relief; thank God Gwen had gotten someone's attention...
Almost immediately, Nathan, who had been slumped up against the sapphire-blue vehicle, leapt to his feet, and jogged over to where the police car had stationed itself in a massive puddle of rainwater.
Gwen jumped out of the front seat, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she was just about to embrace Nathan for some support when Nicole brushed past her and began clawing at the baseball player's chest.
"Oh, Natey," she breathed, sobbing, collapsing into his open arms. "Oh, I was so scared without you..."
Nathan gently caressed Nicole's face with strokes of his hand, yet his deep eyes were focused on Gwen, who could only blush and turn away from his gaze shyly.
Erin, sniffling, exited the backseat, and stumbled over to Honda, barely able to look at the decimated windshield, smeared a bronzed red with dried blood.
Sheriff Haskell was the last to exit the patrol car, as he was less than anxious about uncovering the body of a slaughtered all-American athlete, cut down in his prime.
Grunting sourly, he casually strolled across the path, making his way over towards the waiting vehicle, a look of dread in his eyes.
God have mercy on this sad soul...
Bending down, Sheriff Haskell peered into the Honda, its driver's door wide open; the steering wheel was caked with blood, as was the front seat. Shards of glass, tinted red, fell from the dashboard, and landed near the sheriff's booted feet.
Gradually, his gaze drifted down to the gravel trail, and with a start he spotted the body of Kevin Dixon, collapsed in a contortionist's position atop the pathway; recently-dried blood seemed to cover the body from head-to-toe, as it was absolutely everywhere.
Cautiously, Sheriff Haskell extended a pale hand, and gently prodded at Kevin's neck, noticing the marks around the teenager's throat.
"His neck's broken," the sheriff called out to no one in particular; Nathan was busy comforting Nicole, Gwen was busy pretending she was the one being comforted, and Erin seemed to be off in a peculiar daze yet again, for she simply stared blankly off into the distance - she was completely out of it.
Sheriff Haskell then surveyed the body's torso, which was littered with glass debris; suddenly, an idea struck the young man.
Leaping to his feet, the sheriff rushed over to the abandoned Honda, and gingerly rain his finger along the ridged edges of driver's front seat window, which had seemed to explode inward atop the victim...yet couldn't the window have been forced open, so all the boy's attacker had to do was stick their arms inside the new opening and snap the helpless kid's neck?
It made sense...no car accident caused this death.
All evidence screamed murder, especially the hand prints around Kevin Dixon's neck...he had been cornered and killed by a madman, no doubt...
Yet there were so many other questions that needed to be answered; where, for example, was his girlfriend, this Miranda Cortez the blonde one wouldn't shut up about?
Perhaps she, also, had fallen victim to this teenager-killing lunatic.
There was only one way to find out...
xxx
After a surprisingly-brief round of questioning, Erin and Gwen were told they could leave, while Nathan and Nicole were requested to stay and help with the search for Miranda.
The search, however, did not take very long.
Gwen, who had initially wanted to remain with Nathan and help out as best she could, eventually gave in when Erin burst into tears and pleaded to head home.
As the two girls were led away from the campgrounds in a patrol car, its sirens blaring, Nicole and Nathan were brought aside by the sheriff.
"Look, you two," he said as gently as was humanly possible for a typically-stern police officer. "I know you've both been through a lot today, and I promise you we'll get you back home to your parents real soon, but for now it'd be a great help if you could tell us a little more about your friend, Miranda."
Nicole, eyeing Nathan worriedly, immediately began to divulge information.
"Miranda and Kevin were dating for, like, three-and-a-half months before all of this happened," she explained. "Miranda used to be an outcast, because she only just moved here from San Juan two years ago...she had to leave both her parents behind because her dad couldn't leave as he's the CEO of some computer software company, and so now she's living with family friends in the area. Oh, but don't get me wrong; she's filthy rich, and she never lets anyone forget it."
Sheriff Haskell nodded understandingly.
"Is there any way we can contact her family, meaning the people that live around here?" he asked, eyeing Nicole solemnly.
"I think I've got their number stored in my contact list..." she mumbled as she dug through her purse to retrieve her cell phone.
"Can you tell me why the two of them were here last night?" the sheriff continued.
Nathan then took charge, careful not to mention anything about their Halloween party the night before.
"Nicole here pointed out a cabin in the woods were they could, you know, spend the night together..."
The sheriff couldn't help but snicker - how typical.
"Maybe she's back at this cabin," Sheriff Haskell suggested. "She might not be in any danger at all..."
Without warning, a police officer who had been strolling around the lake let out a strained yelp - "We've got something over here, Sheriff!"
Sheriff Haskell hadn't expected anything to turn up so soon; in a frenzy, he turned to the two teenagers, telling them to stay where they were as he broke out into a mad dash towards the lake.
"Look just in between that huge clump of algae down towards the bottom of the lake," the police officer breathed in terror, pointing down at the swirling shadows in the water. "I think those plants must have kept her anchored down..."
Sheriff Haskell dropped to his knees, and peered through the masses of greenish-brown lake plants, until he saw what had given the officer to his right such a start.
A pair of glazed, mocha-brown eyes, bloodshot and yellowed, were staring directly up through the lake water at the terrified man.
xxx
Jason Voorhees, like stalking Death, limped through the endless stretch of decaying forest, grunting and wheezing with each step; it was getting late, he knew, and soon a new day would arrive...
The day he extracted his revenge on those foolhardy children who had aroused him from his slumber with their mindless partying.
Two of their own had already felt the sting of his fury, and with luck, many more would fall before his massacre came to an end.
Perhaps one of the partygoers would eventually gain the upper hand over him...
Yet the cat-and-mouse game had just begun, and already two players had been eliminated from the competition.
While Jason was one, they were many...things could quickly, and easily, go wrong.
But Jason Voorhees, the reincarnation of hatred, rage, and Death itself, was not going to allow a handful of immature fools to stop his rampage...
Yes...he'd enjoy killing them.
All of them.
xxx
Nicole, on the verge of hysterics, watched in agony as Miranda's lifeless, waxy body was lifted up from out of the water, greenish-brown algae caught in her tangled mess of hair, and delicately placed on a stretcher that was quickly covered up by a stark white sheet.
Nicole, however, had already seen too much; the look on her friend's twisted face was not just of surprise, but of a sick, nauseating fear that had quickly overwhelmed her, clouding her mind and leaving her helpless as she was dragged under the surface of the lake by her unseen assailant.
"I can't believe any of this!" Nicole wailed, her chest pounding and thumping in terror. "Why are we the ones pulled into this nightmare?"
Suddenly livid, the cheerleader spun around to face Gwen and Erin, who were standing off to the side of the lake, consoling one another.
"You..." Nicole breathed, her eyes burning like emerald flames. "You did this, all of this! It's all your FAULT!"
With an animalistic wail, Nicole dashed forward, racing towards a petrified Gwen.
Taken aback, Gwen could barely defend herself as Nicole clawed at her face with her razor-sharp, recently-manicured nails, almost immediately drawing blood that trickled down Gwen's pale cheeks.
Gwen let out a scream of pain, yet managed to slap Nicole across her face, sending the young woman flying backwards into Sheriff Haskell's arms.
"That's enough, you two," he grunted as Nathan rushed forward to assist.
"They're dead," Nicole whimpered as Nathan pulled her up from the ground. "They're all dead...and we're next..."
xxx
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful; Nathan, Nicole, Gwen, and Erin answered a few more of Sheriff Haskell's questions, and then the four of them were released back to their families.
So as to keep Nicole and Gwen away from one another, a police officer drove Gwen and Erin home in a cramped patrol car, while Nathan dropped Nicole off in his silver BMW.
"Call me if you need anything," Nathan said soothingly as Nicole leapt from out of the front seat and down onto the smooth pavement of her endless driveway. "I know today was rough...Hell, beyond rough...but just know that I'm there for you, baby."
Nicole smiled despite herself, as her tears formed rivers that flowed down the sides of her face.
"I know you are," she whispered quietly as Nathan gave her one final kiss before driving off...after all, he had quite a bit to explain to his own parents, as well.
Sighing, Nicole turned away from the desolate street, and made her way down macadam, towards the front door of her family's mansion.
Without warning, that same oak door was thrown open, and Mr. Goldman, his brow furrowed, rushed out onto the lush front lawn in nothing but a bathrobe and slippers, his jaw set and his hands clenched into fists.
"The police just called," he breathed angrily, grabbing a surprised yet protesting Nicole by the arm. "They were rambling on about two bodies and how my daughter was a witness, or something...!"
Grunting, he forced his daughter inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Dammitt, Nicole, now look what you've done! Your mother was worried sick over you, and now we find out you're involved in two murders? What the hell have you gotten yourself into...?"
xxx
Erin, Gwen, and Nathan experienced similar problems with their parents; Erin was immediately dragged inside her house by her mother, who kept ranting on about what an idiot her daughter was, and how she'd get herself killed one day.
Gwen, after hours of being screamed at, retreated upstairs to her bedroom, where her tears eventually lulled her to sleep.
Nathan, like Gwen, also stormed upstairs, locking himself in his room, and immediately pulling out his cell phone in order to text his friends who weren't present at the lake.
They needed to know the truth before lies appeared in the evening paper.
xxx
Derek Myers, busy shoveling down an early dinner of roast chicken, buttered corn, and macaroni and cheese, felt the vibration of his cell phone in his pants pocket, yet didn't bother reaching for it, as he was busy eating.
Must be Nathan, Derek mused as the vibrating died down to a whisper as the frantic text message was stored away in some digital folder.
Oh, well...he could read it later.
After hockey practice, that was.
xxx
Mark also received a similar message from Nathan, reading: Mark, rly bad situation w/ Kev and Miranda - meet me at the park after supper - WE NEED 2 TALK.
The vibration from his phone, however, was almost enough to lull Mark out of his afternoon nap.
Almost.
xxx
Nathan threw his phone down in anger after ten minutes had passed without a response from either Derek or Mark.
What could they be doing that was so important?
He'd have to try again later.
xxx
It wasn't long before Jason Voorhees, bleeding and battered, emerged from the thicket of the woods surrounding Camp Crystal Lake, stumbling out onto the main road that led back towards the unprotected town.
His grotesque features somewhat shielded by the rays of sunlight that burst through the canopy of dead tree branches tangled into one mess of limps above, he limped out of the shadows, surveying the world around.
A world ripe for the picking.
Suddenly, footsteps in the near distance made Jason snap to attention, his slit-like eyes narrowing in anger.
Someone was coming.
xxx
Sheriff Haskell strolled down the gravel trail, hands shoved into his pockets, whistling quietly to himself.
It had been a long day...
Now he got to look forward to returning to the station in order to fill out a proper report for his superiors.
The "perfect" end to a "perfect" afternoon.
Sighing almost contentedly, he realized how wonderful an idea it was to take a quick stroll around the camp before heading back...the slow-paced walk had been so relaxing...
What with the reports that needed to be filed, the blaring sirens, the endless phone calls...Sheriff Haskell needed some sort of a break, even if that break was only a nice, leisurely walk.
Hell, it beat spending time questioning those idiot kids...
Sheriff Haskell was so preoccupied with his own comfort to notice the shadow that had enveloped him, shading him from the blazing sun.
Not even the sound of off-beat footsteps, as if one foot was being dragged while the other moved properly, was enough to jolt the sheriff from his sudden afternoon daze.
As the sounds grew nearer, even unaware Sheriff Haskell managed to pick up the unpleasant stench of lake water mixed with rotted flesh...
And was that a distant wheezing he heard?
With a start, he began to spin around, his hand instinctively reaching for his holstered revolver just as a rapidly-brandished hatchet was swung in his direction, striking him across the face and embedding itself in the side of his skull.
Emitting a choked yelp, Sheriff Haskell's entire body immediately went limp, slumping forward and eventually collapsing to the ground, sending gravel pebbles flying up into the air.
Before Jason even had time to gloat over this most recent murder, a pool of blood began to form around the sheriff's spilt-open head, his widened eyes forever staring out into the open.
Jason, completely unfeeling, removed the bloodied hatchet from the dead man's skull, and with unbelievable force, he kicked the corpse so hard that it rolled back into the underbrush, completely out of sight.
With an inaudible sound that could have been a demonic laugh, Jason turned away from the scene of destruction, and continued down the trail, ready to spill even more innocent blood.