I've Heard Stories About You... (REPOST)

A/N: Sorry, kiddies, no sexy time in this chapter. It's mostly a transitional tool, really. But, a bit of violence, for you? Yes? Okay!


For the next few days, he contemplated what had happened that night. He mentally worked out the mechanics and was left puzzled on how to communicate to the girl that he was interested in repeating the experience. Would she shove him away if he tried dragging her to his bed again? She didn't seem too thrilled about it that night, at first. He'd seen how the boys had seduced the girls over the years of summer trespassing here. But, he knew nothing of alcohol or weed or enticement of any other kind. He stared across the room at her. She was lying back against the wall, long legs crossed, reading a book he'd seen her read a few times before. His gaze traveled up her leg, to the fading bruises on her hip. They were still a dark purple, with a fading yellowish tint around them. -His- marks on her. And, he liked them there. If only they were a bit more permanent. From his old chair by the sharpening wheel, he could tell she was humming, but couldn't hear it. Thank whatever Gods there were. He hated her humming. But not half as much as he hated her outright singing...especially, of his name.

His staring was disrupted by the tinkling of a bell. His head snapped up in reflex to the sound. The girl didn't even seem to notice. A few seconds later, a closer bell clinked. This time, she did hear it and ceased her humming in curiosity. He stood up quickly and tightened his hold on his machete. Another bell, this time just above her bed, rang. 'What's that fo-' she was cut off by the sound of two people running on the ground overhead. Ah, so that's how he knew when someone was there. She reacted by standing up and looking at Jason for a clue of what to do next. Should she hide? Help? Definitely not scream. She glanced down at herself. She was only clothed in a bra, tattered and dirty tank top and a pair of panties. She was trying to space her available clothing out for as long as possible, only wearing what she had to for as long as it would still hang on her body. She looked around for her bag, but there wasn't time to grab a pair of bottoms. Jason was already stomping toward the door. He wasn't going to leave her alone with people out there, was he? What if they came into the cellar?

She scrambled to keep up with him and follow him out of the cellar.

Jason had lost the fear of her escaping at some point before. Sometimes, he wished she would make an attempt at it just so he could kill her and not disappoint Mother. Well, not recently, as much. But, before, it would have been so perfect. He allowed her to follow him out, thinking she was going to split off and hide somewhere in the woods. But, she tailed him as he moved through the woods, matching his silence with her own. The girl -had- killed with her bare hands, before. Perhaps, she thought she could accomplish the task again. Maybe she could.

She tailed him until they reached one of the cabins on the furthest end of the camp. She'd never been as far from the cellar, since she'd been there. There was banging around and laughter coming from inside the cabin. It was smaller than the others on the property, possibly a head counselor's cabin. The laughter occasionally gave way to shouts of the names 'Phillip' and 'Josh,' as the pair discovered something new. Jason made no effort to remain silent or hidden as he simply barreled through the front door, surprising both occupants. One was a tall, rail-thin boy, with cropped dark hair and dark eyes. He wasn't, by any means, handsome or significant in any physically attractive way. His partner was, also, rail-thin but shorter and with obviously dyed, sandy blonde hair and dark eyes. Neither of them looked more than 20 years old, but one of that mattered. They were on Jason's land. Without Jason's permission.

'Kill them, Jason. Kill them. They're trying to take things that are your's. That's stealing! Stealing is bad, Jason!' Mother's voice rang in his ears, in his mind until it saturated every nerve ending in his body. The girl followed him into the cabin, stumbling over the splintered wood.

'The hell?!' the tall one shouted. The shorter one yelped and pressed himself against the wall across the room, directly opposite of Jason. The taller one glanced between Jason's sack-covered face and the girl climbing in behind him. 'Are-are you guys like some fucked up cannibal, wood people or something?' the shorter one asked, trembling.

The girl couldn't help but smile at that. 'No, we're far worse than that,' she said, softly. Taking her words as a cue, Jason brought his machete down like lightning, through the shorter one's shoulder and dragged it downward through his chest. The cutting of bone made a sickening crack that was accentuated by the squelching noise of blood being forced through the enormous wound. He dropped to the floor with a heavy thump. The entire thing seemed to move in slow motion, to her. And, she felt....nothing. Absolutely nothing. She wasn't horrified or excited. The feeling she could even name was simple disinterest. As if it were an everyday sight and had grown boring to her. Just another dead person, again, today, Jason? Shall I make you some coffee? Yeah, something like that. She stared at the widened eyes of the dead boy for a moment, but was brought back to the situation at the sound of a yelp, followed by a 'holy shit!'

She looked up, to find the taller boy being pinned to the wall, by Jason holding his shirt. The boy wriggled himself out of the shirt and toward temporary freedom. Instinctively, she grabbed a shard of the wood and swung out, at the boy, striking him in the back of his thigh. He fell to the floor, Jason lumbering menacingly toward him. The boy crawled a bit, picking up a piece of wood himself, before scrambling to his legs to make a run for the door. She jumped in front of the door to block him and Jason jumped in front of her, machete drawn.

The girl was -his-. If anyone got the pleasure of hurting, maiming, or killing her, it would be him and no other. Cornered, the boy backed up, holding his own strip of wood threateningly. 'Let me go and take your bitch with you,' he demanded, as if he had the upper hand in the fight. Jason simply stared at him, holding his own weapon tightly, daring him to make a move. The boy did move, though. He swung the wood out, throwing it awkwardly at the back of Jason's knee, causing him to buckle slightly with the force of it. In the fraction of a second that Jason had moved, the boy made a bold lunge for the door, tackling the girl backward as he did so. She landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her, but she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him there, while he struggled desperately. Jason was there within seconds. He pulled the boy up by his hair and gave a clean swipe through the boy's neck. Blood splattered onto her, but the body tilted off to the side, away from her.

She scrambled backwards, away from it and looked up at Jason, out of breath. There was nothing but silence, now. She wondered what he was thinking. Was this just an everyday thing for him and he didn't care, like she had when seeing that first boy go down? Her gaze traveled down to his hand, still holding the boy's head by his hair, a profuse amount of blood still draining from it. Now that she'd thought about it, she hadn't seen any dead bodies when they walked the camp. Or, the woods. In the stories, Jason had killed plenty more than just two people, here. But, what did he do with the bodies? Did he throw them in the lake? The very lake they used to give themselves a quick rinse off? She shuddered at the thought.

'So, what do you do now? Where do you put the b-bodies?' she asked, still regaining her breath. He tilted his head, as if contemplating whether he should tell her or not. He sheathed his machete and without giving her any affirmative or negative reply, he turned and lifted the decapitated body over his shoulder. He went inside the cabin and returned with the body of the other boy, dragging it by his shirt, along the ground, over the front steps and through the dirt passing her. She scrambled up to follow him. He stopped at a cabin closer to the shore of the lake. So, he did throw them in?

Outside of the tiny cabin, maybe it was just an office of some sort, there were racks where canoes were hanging upside down. And one canoe had been placed on the ground in the same position. Jason dropped the bodies and lifted the canoe on the ground, moving it off to the side. Under it was a deep, narrow pit. As soon as it had been revealed, the smell of rotting bodies hit her. The smell was so powerful, she wasn't so sure that it actually HADN'T physically hit her. Bile rose in her throat and she turned her head away to vomit on the ground. Jason didn't pay any mind to it and proceeded to dump both bodies and decapitated head into the pit. He felt around the inside of one of the hanging canoes for a box of old matches that he kept for this very thing. He lit one and threw it in, letting the bodies catch fire and burn.

She continued to spit on the ground until the taste of vomit was completely gone. He stood up and walked, slowly, into the small cabin and she followed, not wanting to be left behind with that smell. Inside the cabin didn't smell too much better, in her opinion. It wreaked of rotted wood and mildew. Oddly, though, there was a hit of old candle wax, coming from the only other room in the place other than the one they were standing in and a small bathroom. He walked toward the room and she followed closely behind him. The room was empty, aside from a table sitting below a large hole in the far side wall. The table was covered in old wax and mostly burned down candles.

But, inside the hole in the wall, was a wooden beam, made into a makeshift shelf to support what looked like a rat's nest of hair. Jason stepped closer tot he table and knelt before it, keeping his eyes focused on whatever the hairy mess was. She stepped closer to him, coming to the conclusion that this was a shrine of importance to him. As she did so, the light seemed to shift and reveal the head of a woman. The flesh sunk in around the bones with decay, and the hair forming a disastrous mane around it. She wrinkled her nose and took a step back.

'Voorhees...' she said, with a sniff. 'That's completely fucking disgusting, I hope you know that.' She turned on her bare heel and left the room. 'I'm going to take a shower, you should, too,' she called back as she left the cabin, entirely. He took an experimental sniff of the air, and decided that she was right. He could use a few splashes of water.