I couldn't count how many times I tripped over my feet from the countless roots that stuck out of the ground. My ankles were seething at the sudden jerks they had to do in order to make up for the sudden change in my balance, but I kept on running. I had parked on the other side of the road. I didn't want that girl to see me.

I really don't know why I followed her, but something in my gut told me I had to. Seeing a sight like her stepping – more like stumbling – into the hotel was the last thing I expected to see that day. I never saw a girl look so destroyed before. She had a tear in her shirt and she had scratches on her feet and ankles. She wasn't even wearing shoes! I tried to take no mind to it at first, simply asking if she was okay, but her reactions to such were shocking as well. She was shaking. SHAKING. I never saw a person have such a vigorous tremor before. It looked as if she was about to keel over. Her eyes were red, and the skin around them was much darker. What in the hell happened to this girl?

When I asked if she was okay again, she gave me a small mumble, snatched up her key and debit card, and took off for the stairs (That hotel is so shitty. We can't even afford a freaking elevator). I tried to ignore the fact that there might have been something horrible wrong with this girl and relaxed once I realized that she wasn't making any movements upstairs. Maybe she just needed to sleep off whatever was bothering her.

There weren't that many customers that day, like any other day, so it was pretty mellow and soothing. The weather was atrociously hot, so I didn't expect that many people to be checking into a hotel. I expected them to be out at the beach, or on a picnic or something.

Once it started getting dark, it was almost time for my shift to be over. But that was the last thing I was thinking about when I heard a sharp scream come from upstairs. I jumped in my seat, almost falling out of my chair, and looked up at the ceiling fearfully. It sounded like a girl. Perhaps it was the girl I had checked in earlier? Maybe she had a nightmare? It was impossible for anyone to break into this place. She was on the third floor and there weren't any means to get in through the window (By such I mean trees or other buildings). A second later, the girl came rushing down the stairs, through the foyer and out the door. I tried calling after her, asking if she was okay, but she didn't seem to hear me.

So here I am, pushing through the darkness and debris of what looked like Camp Crystal Lake. What in the hell was she doing in a place like this? Didn't she hear the rumors? It was very possible that she could care less, since she seemed to be in her teen years. All teenagers around this place are rebellious to a fault all their own. They'll do anything if it gets them drunk, high or laid without the adults knowing. But this girl didn't seem like the rest of them. Sure, she was wearing the same clothing as most girls wore, and yet there was something about her.

For this reason alone, I thought something was wrong. Why would a girl like that ever go to a place like Camp Crystal Lake? Would she trying to find out if the rumors were true? Was she forced to come here? She could be like all the others too, but I didn't want to think my gut was betraying me. It was usually right before.

I pushed a large branch behind and I almost stepped into campgrounds of Camp Crystal Lake. I inspected quietly. I could hardly see a thing, but I could distinctively make out one giant silhouette, and two reasonable smaller ones in front of it. I expected the giant silhouette to be a car, but the other ones…were they people? I could only guess that they were, since they were standing upright.

And right against each other.

I tried to take a closer look. I was able to creep out far enough to catch some light from the moon shining overhead. What I saw almost made me scream.

A giant man – a good six or seven inches taller then me – wearing a hockey mask was holding the girl in his arms. I could hear that the girl was crying and the man was stroking her hair somewhat roughly, as if trying to calm her down.

I watched, my mouth gaping open in shock. The rumors WERE true. Jason Voorhees DOES exist. So, all those killings that have happened recently were true as well. Jason had killed them all. But that's when something new altogether fell into place.

I remembered watching the news earlier that day and the stories about the killings were announced every chance they could get. By the end of the day, yesterday, I could recite all of the victim's names by heart. One of the names always caught my interest.

Destiny Marshala.

Destiny? What a strange name. Who names their kid after something that can't be changed? And Marshala…was she the daughter of Angela and Daniel Marshala? That rich family from _? If they were so rich, and if she WAS their daughter, wouldn't they have made a huge stink about it? If I was rich, I would spend all the money I ever had into finding my lost daughter. IF she was lost, that is. From what the rumors said, they were all killed. But for all they knew, they could all be lost.

A sudden remembrance of the debit card the girl flashed at him struck him.

'Destiny Marshala,' it read in girly handwriting.

So this girl WAS Destiny Marshala.

This girl was the possible daughter of the well-off Marshala family.

…And this girl was HUGGING a serial killer?

I couldn't understand. Why would she be so close to a man like that? A heartless criminal who has killed countless people and has been known to be dead for years. A man who slashes and decapitates innocent people just for the hell of it. Why would a little girl like her ever come close to a man like him? Why would she do something so sick and twisted?

She needed help. She definitely needed some kind of mental help. Jason must have brainwashed her somehow. She must be under the impression that he's HELPING her or something. Who knows what he's done to her now that she's under his control. But of course, the real question was WHY he has kept her. Did he keep ALL of his female victims like this and brainwash them into helpless, desperate creatures who crave his approval? What would he do to them he wondered. Rape them? Torture them? Keep them prisoner? God could only imagine what this poor girl has been through. She must have tried to get away when she came to the hotel, but she was too brainwashed to stay away from him and returned.

This HAD to be stopped. This was so sick. Why would ANYONE want to be with a serial killer? Even though he had a good feeling she wasn't doing this willingly, he was under the impression that she had good enough willpower to leave. But staying away was the problem. Perhaps if he could catch her while she was alone and give her an ultimatum, she'll go along with him. That way he can give her help and return her to her family. His mind boggled over the award money he would receive. And imagine how much he would make if he TOLD everyone that Jason existed! He would be as rich as the Marshala family! They could capture him, lock him up and kill him, set the rest of the female prisoners free, and I would be the town hero! I would finally stop working in that crummy hotel and actually make something out of my life. Boy, would I prove my parents wrong…dumb bastards…

"Destiny!" I called out and took a step into the moonlight, making myself known. My mind was too blurred over with my future life to care that I was messing up my plan. I wanted to talk to her when Jason wasn't around, but at the moment I felt so invincible that I was sure I could knock Jason out with one hand tied behind my back.

Jason flinched and turned to me, his eyes back from the shadows coming from the eyeholes. He pressed Destiny against him possessively, as if daring me to come any closer. Destiny had gasped and looked up at me in horror. Bet she didn't expect me to come to her rescue. I bet she didn't expect anyone to save her.

"Destiny, you don't have to stay here with him," I said calmly, taking more steps forward, all the while Jason holding Destiny tighter and tighter. "I can take you away from this man. He's hurt you, hasn't he? He's brainwashed you, Destiny. You need to get out of here before he kills you! Come with me! I can take you away from this place. I can get you help and return you to your family, then we can tell the police and have this man locked away forever." I was proud of my little speech. It came out exactly the way I wanted to. I wasn't one for public speaking, but if it MEANS something, might as well do your best. I watched for her expression, trying to detect any signs of hope of relief. But to my surprise, she was staring up in me through tear-burned eyes, her expression…

…Unreadable?

I didn't understand. Why didn't I see happiness or realization? Why didn't she understand that I have come to rescue her from this horrid place? She must have been brainwashed too deeply…

"Destiny, please try to understand. That man…that man KILLS people. He's killed more people than you can count, and he might kill you, too. You have to believe me, Destiny. He has you brainwashed under his control. You have to get out of here before it's too late! Please, come with me. I can help you get out of this. Please believe me, Destiny." Jason was breathing heavily through the holes in his mask, panting with rage. He wouldn't dare hurt Destiny, no matter where she was. Why else would he keep her if he planned on killing her in the end? So, if she came with me, there would be nothing he could do. If he killed me, she would be able to make another getaway while doing so. And if he killed Destiny, I could also take off to call the police. Either way, I would win. Whether I would die or not, I would be a hero.

…But, my plan didn't go exactly the way I wanted it to.

Destiny just stood there, in the man's arms, tears trickling down her neck and staring at me in shock. She made no move to go anywhere. She didn't even look like she was THINKING about leaving him. At this point, Jason's hand was tightly around her shoulder while another was around her waist, locking her in his arms in such a protective matter it was almost animalistic. It was sick to watch. This man deserved to die for everything he's done. All the things he's done to innocent people, killing them, torturing them, raping them…

And yet Destiny didn't move. Perhaps his grip on her was too tight, but I was shocked when I saw Jason slowly, almost gently, pick her up by the back of the legs and waist, and lied her down on the length of the back seats of the car in back of them.

"WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" I yelled angrily. Was he going to try and drive away? You'd think a serial killer wouldn't know how to drive. "GET HER THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!" But he paid no mind to me. He shut the door to the truck then turned to me, glaring me down with that one eye.

"If you think killing me will do anything, you got another thing coming, you asshole. Destiny's left open now, she can leave while you're finishing me off. Then SHE can tell the police and YOU'LL go to jail." I smirked at him, staring at him defiantly. Watch him try to get out of this one. He took some steps forward until he was right in front of me. He slowly lifted hs machete, and I closed my eyes, grinning.

"Go ahead…she'll just get away…"

The machete swept cleanly through my waist, slicing me in half effectively.

She'll be free.

END CHAPTAH!

Okay, so you all asked for the man in the green truck, and here he is! Quite the weird one, isn't he? Too bad he had to die. And too bad he didn't understand. Destiny isn't leaving Jason anytime soon, now is she?

-NikoRu Rene