The shack was just as shoddy on the inside as it was on the out, if not more so, Alma had observed as she entered inside and saw the interior. Scratch that, the inside made the front look like a nice suburban home with a picket fence. To call the place a dump would be too generous. The walls and floors were made out of the same rotten wood and rusted metal as the entrance, and Alma assumed that if she wasn't wearing thick hiking gear, one wrong move and she'd be harpooned with a million little splinters. The floor was also extremely dirty, and some of the cracks in the floor were wide enough to show exposed dirt. Junk was strewn all over the place, old broken furniture and dirty rags and a few knick-knacks scattered around.

The place also smelt like shit as well, like a mix of dust and decay. It smelt like something died in here and didn't decompose well. Alma scrunched her nose and held it with her fingers as she tried not to exhume anymore of the smell as the floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Despite the place's subpar conditions, it was actually bigger than she had expected. It had more than one room, as there was a door leading somewhere else.

That definitely didn't help dissuade her piquing interest, which had just risen higher upon seeing the door. Like a moth to a brightly lit oil lamp, Alma's curiosity had gotten the best of her yet again as she walked towards the direction of the door.

She slowly trudged through the corridor into the small hallway, the only sound being the creaking of the floorboards. She turned round a corner, taking in the details of everything. She had just been keenly observing, lost in her train of thought when she saw something that snapped her back to life.

It was a bed. Actually, it was a bedroom. A bedroom with a side table and a rather large bed-frame. It was dirty like everything else in the house, with a stained, yellowed old mattress with a raggedy old blanket and pillow on top, and the side table had a decorative lamp which was aged and torn. But Alma was even more shocked at seeing a little and worn stuffed bear laying on the bed.

A million questions ran throughout her head. If Jason Voorhees had really lived here long ago once upon a time, how'd he built this place? Did he even built it at all, or did he find it? How could he have survived in this place for years in such subpar conditions? That little bear on the bed was the cause of a thousand questions that drove Alma mad.

She scrummaged through her coat pocket and took out her phone; snapping a picture of the bedroom. This was too good, too interesting to not take photos. Alma wasn't a picture fiend, but when she found something she thought was interesting on her travels, she had to capture it.

After she was finished taking a few photos of the bedroom, Alma noticed something else that caught her attention. There was another door. It was bigger than the other ones, and Alma had assumed it must've been broken or something at one point in time since it had a big metal sheet nailed to the middle. It also had a long log lying on two pegs attached to the door, like one of those medieval doors.

After quickly snapping a photo for later reference, Alma put her phone back in her pocket and stood in front of the door. Her hands went under the log and lifted it up. Once it was in her hands, she turned it vertically and layed it to the side of the door against the wall. Then, Alma looked back to the door and gave it a little push.
The door made way with a little creak; revealing another tiny hallway. Alma walked inside, looking right and left, observing everything. But as she made another turn, what she saw next made her completely freeze and for her blood to run cold.

There was a mummified head.
Actually, the head stood in the middle of what she quickly figured was something of a shrine setup, with lit candles all surrounding and centering the head. There was also a blooded, raggedy old sweater beneath the head and the most horrifying part of all, there were two decomposing corpses laying on the floor besides the shrine.
Alma shook like a leaf, her skin draining of all color, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. As her eyes were transfixed on the horrific set up, her stomach turned, and she immediately felt nauseous. Alma couldn't fight the incoming vomit rising up her esophagus like a rollercoaster as she gagged and cupped her mouth, before moving it away and the bile finally escaping all over the floor.

Jason marched triumphantly into his house, looking around and scanning everything like a predator searching for prey.
Jason searched the living room, finding nothing unordinary. He growled. The bitch probably went snooping further into his house. He walked to his bedroom, and then he turned and he froze at saw the open door and the vertical log resting on the wall leading to his mother's shrine.

Jason's jaw clenched. He burned with rage. How dare she? How dare she?

Nobody broke into his home and trespassed into his beloved mother's shrine without harsh consequence. She was going to pay.

Jason stomped into the shrine room, not caring if he was heard, and found Alma standing in front of the shrine, breathing heavily and staring at the vomit puddle on the floor. She had been too preoccupied with the shrine to notice Jason at all.

Jason stepped behind her.