Episode 10-The Great Outdoors
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"Nothing like a good camping trip to loosen the nerves...right Kruger?"
"Fuck face?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut the living hell up."
"Oh. Okay."
They all walked in silence from that point forward, except Michael and Jason who were surprisingly grumbly today. Maybe it was because they hated being out in the sunlight or maybe it was just because Freddy had made them both carry all of the camping equipment.
Either way, Freddy didn't care because they were camping and nothing mattered except trying not to die...or get eaten by a foreign disease or creature. Yep. Out in the wilderness pretty much everything seemed good. Except for Ghostface's cell phone, which continuously seemed to be ringing.
"Yeah, hello?" he paused and looked up at the sky, appearing to be figuring something, and almost tripped on a rock. Thank God Michael was there to resentfully catch him or Ghostface would be dead by now. "Oh! Yeah I almost just fell...over a rock...yeah. Thanks Myers! Anyway...yeah about two pounds of the shit...cost? Umm...I dunno. How much does it sell for? That much? Well I-"
Jason yanked the phone from his grasp and threw it somewhere down the mountain. Hey I have an idea, fuck face; how about you shut the fucking hell up for a change? You remember what happened the last time that you were too loud...
"Oh just fuck you to hell Voorhees-"
"You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?" Freddy muttered in an undertone; Michael stifled a laugh.
"Shut up, Kruger! I'm sick of you all ganging up on me!"
Michael sighed and readjusted the camping equipment on his shoulders. If you wouldn't be such a pussy then there would be no ganging! God...fucking retard...
"Well you all act like it's my fault that Jigsaw trapped us!" Ghostface whined as he nearly tripped over another rock and cursed.
Jason glared at him. It is your fault, you god damned idiot! Do you see me and Myers talking? Hell no-
"Well it doesn't matter whose fault it is-only that Ghostface is the punching bag of the house. After all, who else can put up with all our bullshit? The only other pussy in the house is Myers and he has...rage issues. Anyway, I think that we should all just calm down and chill out. We don't get out of the apartment much so let's just enjoy it while we can." Freddy snapped as the finally came to a clearing in the thick woods. They all looked around in amazement.
Wow. Michael wrote on a piece of paper, this place sure is...
Jason: Out there. What if Ghostface gets Myers shit faced again and he kills us all? Who will we call-
Ghostface's head perked up. "Ghostbus-"
"Don't you even finish that sentence, you prick. Just don't." Freddy warned him, waving his clawed hand in the air. Ghostface nodded and found a space in the clearing, right in the center, and pointed at it.
"That's where I want my tent. So put it there Myers-"
"Too bad. It's my tent too and I want it over there-" Freddy pointed to another spot and in confusion Michael threw the tent over there and stared from Freddy to Ghostface.
Jason's eyes widened. We're sharing tents?
"Fuck yeah, Voorhees. You don't think that we have enough money to throw around towards tents above all things do you? Hell no...we just need to pick who we're sleeping in the same tent with. Not sleeping with, think you can handle that Myers?"
Michael looked at the empty clearing dismally. I don't want to share a tent.
Jason: Perfect. Since you and Ghostface seem so resentful to share tents you can each sleep outside and me and Kruger can have a tent all to ourselves.
Ghostface chuckled. "Like I would ever give you that satisfaction, Voorhees." then went over to the space that Freddy had pointed too and looked at it. "Well I suppose that this isn't a bad spot...I guess I could manage."
"Good," Freddy said as he went over to Ghostface, "because that's where we're staying."
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It was a long afternoon full of foolish shenanigans but eventually they all managed to put the tents up and decide who was sleeping in whatever tent; Michael and Jason and Freddy and Ghostface. Michael and Jason were only mildly bitter about the situation whereas Freddy and Ghostface-mainly Ghostface-wouldn't let the thing die.
"But I don't wanna sleep with him! I loath him!" Ghostface whined as they all sat around the campfire around 7 or 8 o'clock.
Jason and Michael rolled their eyes and sighed; that had been the only thing that Ghostface had talked about in the past few hours. Finally Jason worked up enough nerve to ask; Do you want to trade tents?
Ghostface stopped his whining and stared at the silent slashers then crossed his arms over his chest like a two year old. "I wanna sleep wit-in the same tent as Myers."
Michael's eyes became wide and he gazed at Jason who sat there stifling a laugh. What? he wrote, why me?
"Because Voorhees scares me." Ghostface said simply. Freddy sighed and rolled his eyes.
"It's already been decided. No one's switching tents with anyone. Besides, if Ghostface slept with Myers then we'd have a lot of...unneeded problems in the morning. How about we just-"
Jason's head shot up. What was that?
Michael: What? I didn't hear-
Jason: Shhh! He paused for a second; there it was again!
"What? What was it?" Ghostface asked as he looked around nervously.
Freddy scoffed. "It wasn't anything. The big retard probably just heard a tree falling-"
"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear-"
Michael: Oh my God. You really can't ever shut up, can you fuck face? God! But all the same, I still didn't hear anything, Voorhees.
Jason sighed. Yeah. Remember the last time that you didn't hear what I heard? You got ripped in half by a chainsaw. So shut the fuck up and listen...
Everyone was silent for a moment then there came the cracking of branches somewhere in the forest...the ring of a cell phone. Ghostface gasped. "That's my cell! I've gotta go get it!"
Freddy tried to stop him, but Ghostface was determined and ran past him and out of the campsite. "Aw shit! Son of a bitch! Who's going after him now?" he gazed at the other two who said nothing.
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"How do I always get yanked into this shit?" Freddy murmured as he made his way through the thick forest in search of Ghostface. "Fuck face! Where are you?!"
No answer. Of course. If Ghostface just gave up and let Freddy find him that would be too easy. Suddenly there came another ring of a cell phone and and more branched cracking...he whirled around and whispered into the night, "Hello? Ghostface? Please come out!"
He had a brief flashback to the last time he had been wandering in the forest alone...Leatherface had been after him then. Now it seemed like something was still after him. Looking around he sighed and scratched his bald head.
Maybe Ghostface was already back at camp. Or maybe Freddy had just never seen a horror movie before because they were never just 'already back at camp'. Something had happened and now he had to fix it.
Freddy cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ghostface...please come out or I'm...in a lot of trouble..." he turned around and realized that he was utterly lost and then, out of nowhere, something flashed in the corner of his eye. His eyes widened. "Oh shit-"
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Michael and Jason sighed as they sat in their tent, freezing their asses off. Boy, Michael wrote, I sure wish that Kruger would hurry up.
Jason shrugged. I hope that they are either missing or dead.
They both sat in silence for another second or two before Michael sighed and wrote, You know what's weird?
What?
Well in your movies-the Friday the 13th ones I mean-don't all the kids fuck each other in tents?
Jason stared at him oddly. What are you saying Myers?
Michael shrugged and traced a line in the dirt floor of the tent. I dunno...just odd isn't it?
Uhh...yeah. Hold that though for a while...I'm going out. Jason scratched hurridley as he forced his way out of the tent. God, he thought as he made his way along the beaten camp path and into the forest, Myers...queer? Nah, probably just-
"Ah shit! Son of a bitch!" a voice called from somewhere in the forest. Jason hurridley unsheathed his machete and hacked through some branches. It took him awhile but eventually he found the source of the noise; Ghostface.
What the fuck are you doing here, fuck face? Where's Kruger?
Ghostface shrugged and hugged one of his legs to his chest. "I-I don't know. He was here and now he isn't. I think that they broke my leg-"
Who's they?And why are you sitting here in the forest alone? I almost cut you in half...
Ghostface gasped and pointed, "Look! Behind you!"
Jason whirled around, hacking the air with his machete but it was too late; a gun was forced against his cranium and went off. Jason's eyes became wide as he fell to the ground, his brains but a pulpy mess on the ground. Ghostface gripped his head in his hands.
"Oh crap...what's wrong with you crazy people?" he asked as he watched Jason's seemingly lifeless body.
A very country sounding voice answered him, one that possessed a thick southern drawl. "I know your kind stranger. Nothin' but trouble fer folks in these here parts. It's time we got rid of the trouble."
"What trouble? Wait...you don't happen to know a Thomas Brown Hewitt aka Leatherface, do you?" Ghostface asked fearfully as a man in overalls and a trucker hat stepped towards him.
"Hell no." he said as he spat out some old tobacco, "but I do know what Imma do with you..."
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Michael sighed as he stretched out in the tent and tried to get to sleep; he was so tall that his feet stuck out of the other end. Suddenly from outside there came a gunshot and some yelling...Oh shit. Michael thought to himself as he sat upright and looked around wildly.
As he desperately looked around for his kitchen knife a loud clattering came from outside the tent. Clutching the knife in his hands, Michael cautiously peeked out of the tent-there were people. Country looking people, an old lady wearing and apron and plain dress and a guy with a straw hat and flannel shirt.
Michael sighed and slowly got out of the tent. Just people? I can kill people-
"Hey maw look! There's one of them right now!" the man yelled and to Michael's surprise he aimed a shotgun at him and fired. Though Michael was surprised, he managed to jump to the side and avoid the bullet.
Oh crap. What have they done? He asked himself as he crawled away into the brush of the nearby forest. Upon seeing a large tree he hid behind it but also began itching his arm.
The itching only got worse as the seconds passed and before long his whole body was itching. Looking around wildly he found that what he had crawled in, what he was now sitting in, was poison ivy. Oh motherfuck-
"This ain't no good Junior. I think he got away." a voice came from no too far off. It was answered by the man's voice.
"Aww Maw. Hows about you just go meet Paw and I catch the son of a bitch fer ya?"
"That's what you're a'gonna have to do, Junior. I can't be spendin' the whole goddamn night crawlin' around in the brush and whatnot. Find him and bring him like the others been brought."
"Yes mamma."
The voices stopped just then and Michael stopped itching as the crunching of branches came from about 100 yards away. Looking behind the tree he saw the man, poised and ready with his shot gun.
Suddenly the man whirled around and stared Michael right in the eye for a second before raising his shot gun.
"Yer mine bastard."
God what a hick. Michael thought as the man pulled the trigger.
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Freddy gasped as his eyes popped open. It was...a living room? A living room full of dead animal heads mounted on walls and empty beer cans. Pretty much his worst nightmare.
"What is this place?" he asked, hoping that someone-preferably one of the three slashers-would answer him; someone did.
"This here's our home stranger. We was hopin' that you would stay fer supper."
From the kitchen there came another voice, this one of a woman. "Paw come on in and wash fer supper. We have guests-"
"Wait...guests?"
"That's right, stranger! Now jus' come along real quiet like and we'll take you to your friends-"
Freddy shook his head and got to his feet and an old man came to the door with a shotgun in tow. "Now are you gonna come to supper quiet or is me and Junior gonna have to help you?"
"Umm...yeah I-I uh...I think I'll come quietly." Freddy said as he swallowed.
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The dining room was just as filthy as the rest of the house but had one main difference-or more specifically three. Michael, Ghostface and Jason all sat at the table-except for Jason who was slumped over in his seat with his head resting on his table-and looking dreadful.
"Jesus fucking Christ." Freddy murmered as the man guided him to his chair at the far end of the table. Glancing over at Ghostface he lashed out with his foot. Ghostface's head shot up and looked around wildly.
"Hey...fuck face!" he whispered.
"W-what?" Ghostface hissed back. Freddy quickly glanced at the others and leaned a little closer to him.
"How do we get out?"
Ghostface jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "There's a door in...the kitchen!"
"Well maw I reckon that that big one's just about ready to go-" the younger man, Junior said as he motioned to Jason who still seemed to be alive, but just having a difficult time opening his eyes.
Michael Jason's arm and didn't let go, even as the older hick brought out his shot gun. No way in hell, old man. Can't you see that he's not dead?
The old woman put a dish of lord knows what on the table and glared at Michael. "Boy you and the rest of you is so dead that you don't even know it."
Junior laughed idiotically and took the shot gun from his father. "Daddy lemme shoot him! I can do it! I found it-"
"Oh fuck this." Ghostface said as he pulled out his knife from his sleeve. Junior pointed the shot gun at him, seeing what he was about to do.
"Fuck you, damn idjot!" he cried as he pulled the trigger. Ghostface's head lolled for a precious second, then dropped and his whole body slumped onto the table.
"Aw shit!" Freddy howled as the young boy pointed the shot gun at him. Tentatively he slashed the air with his clawed hand, praying that by some miracle he would kill the boy; the sound of a shot gun clattering onto the floor echoed throughout the dining room.
Freddy opened his eyes and saw the old woman and man bending over and checking for their son's pulse. The mother cried and held her head in her filthy hands. "What did you do to my baby...what did you do to my boy?"
He shook his head hurriedly as Michael rushed him to his feet. "No-I didn't...I'm sorry."
Michael: Why do you choose now to have the slightest trace of remorse? Come on...NOW!
Freddy nodded but still looked at the family with the slightest trace of sorrow in his eyes but he quickly recovered and hustled over to Ghostface. "Hey fuck face...you gotta wake up."
Ghostface said nothing, just made a grumbling noise. "Mmmm..."
"Shit! Michael he won't wake up-"
Another shot gun blast and Michael dropped to the floor and then the old man stopped to reload. "You asshole," he said as he aimed the weapon at Freddy, "I outa blow your fuckin' brains out right now asshole-"
Freddy sighed and pressed his clawed hand to his neck. "Then go ahead and do it motherfucker. Or are you just gonna make me slit my own throat."
The old man glared at him. "You ain't got the fuckin' balls do you?"
"You really wanna bet my life on it?" Freddy hissed.
The old woman rose to her feet after she took the old, ragged tablecloth and shrouded her dead son with it. "What you waitin' for Pa? Ain't like he's goin' anywhere..."
"Yeah," the old man said as he cocked the gun, "he ain't going no where."
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In the end the truth of the matter was that slashers didn't die easy and not even a couple of severe shots to the head could kill them. Serial killers were known for their hard heads. And no matter what the odd country folk could have done, nothing would bring their son back or kill the likes of Jason Voorhees, Ghostface, Michael Myers or Freddy Kruger. In fact, about two weeks later they were back in their apartment watching T.V. With bandages wrapped around their heads.
"So..." Ghostface said groggily. Although he had gotten the bullets extracted, he was still thinking slowly. "What's next?"
Jason cradled his head in his hands as he scratched onto a piece of old paper. Nothing. My head still hurts.
Michael a sound that was equivalent to a groan. Ow...I got a headache again.
"Did you take your meds?" Freddy asked sharply as he fingered his top hat in his hands. Michale painfully shook his head and gripped it.
Shit!
"Then don't complain Myers..." Freddy continued as Ghostface sighed and flipped the T.V. Channel.
"Yep. After this I think that it's safe to say that we're definitely not going no where." Ghostface said as the channels steadily flipped past.
Jason glared at the screen. Or at least not until our heads heal.
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Thanks for reading this episode. I appreciate it. There are just a few things that I wish to make clear at this point:
I really do thank you for reading.
I would like to take this opportunity to shamelessly self promote my other stories; my fiction press account name currently is the redeemed. If you like my fan fiction then you might just like my original writings as well.
This episode wasn't meant to be written about a specific horror movie, but the creepy camping trip ones-you know the kind. Somehow there are always those shot gun-wielding country hicks.
Is Michael gay or a homosexual-yes I know that they're the same thing but I don't want to offend anybody-maybe he is, maybe he isn't.
And most importantly, the next few episodes might be few and far between or however you say it. Mostly because I put up a story after proofreading it only once at 8 at night and it had a few grammatical errors which caused one person to post a review saying that the whole damned story was 'appalling' and she couldn't get past two paragraphs because she was 'assaulted by errors' and something about the story being a disgrace...
Needless to say that I'm a little bitter but mostly scarred-has she seen some of the other stories out there? So, out of fear, I may not put up episodes so frequently unless I feel like risking someone bite my head off.
But don't fret-new episodes are on their way.
Thanks. ^_^