Fear

::should've done this before, but here's the disclaimer.
Don't own Jason, Freddy, Lori, or Will, only wish I did.
Hope you guys enjoy...it's not pretty...::

Chapter 2

Nicole Sherriden’s POV

Coming off of shift, Nicole changed into her civies and headed straight out from the complex to town. She made her way to the library to begin some serious research on Jason Voorhees. He had to have some public records, so she started there. She read through police reports working her way backwards through time, finally coming up on something rather striking: an obituary. In a 1957 paper, there was an article about the boys accidental drowning. She went back, reading about all the murders that had taken place *after* the obituary appeared in the paper. Apntlyntly the original murders, starting back with the deaths of the counselors responsible for the boy’s death were perpetrated by his mother…Pamela Voorhees. But she herself was killed in 1979 by another counselor when the camp was being reopened…or attempted to be reopened. The murders then continued on, supposedly at the hands of Jason Voorhees himself…but he was supposed to be dead. Another series of murders at the same location occurred in 1992, but these were due to a copycat killer named Roy Burns. However, murders continue to occur in 1997. Most of the killing sprees occurred at Crystal Lake near the town of Forest Green, but there was another group of murders that were attributed to Jason Voorhees that apparently took place in Manhattan…or on a ship ride there. She had nearly overlooked it considering the location…until she traced the origin of the ship. Doesn’t seem completely unlikely, but it was possible still that this was yet another copycat. It was after that rampage that the FBI stepped in and went to Camp Crystal Lake with their pitiful attempt at subduing him. .oO(hmmm….so how, then, did Jason Voorhees get from Manhattan back to the lake…perhaps that was another copycat? Or perhaps he was simply too weak to resume his murders there…maybe the guy just got homesick…) She sat back and pondered that thought. Could he get homesick? That would require samouamount of emotion…longing for home…right? But that doesn’t even come close to the basic question…if he died in 1957…how is he here now? It makes no sense. She continued to hack into police reports .oO(god bless growing up a geek) and began compiling a list of names…the survivors. Perhaps she could track them down…find out more information. After several hours she had her list…and a pitifully short list it was. And even amongst the short list there, only two had current addresses. .oO(must’ve put quite a scare in them for all that…)
She sighed and pushed away from the computer finally, muscles cramped and aching from sitting all hunched over for so long. Not to mention the lack of sleep. “Bah…sleep is for the weak! I think it’s time to take a little personal leave…” She started typing again, sending an e-mail to the higher-ups. No way was she going in to ask in person…they’d just say no. That done, she headed back to the complex where her unit was stationed. A bit of a work in sneaking aroubut but she made it in and back out again with a bag packed for a few days trip. It was time to head out to Springwood to have a little chat with Lori and Will…the two survivors of the most recent spree of attacks. These had actually started in Springwood…the survivors had actually been the ones to bring Jason back to the lake. So how did he wind up in Springwood in the first place? And why? .oO(so many questions…need to find some answers.) She climbed in the black ford explorer .oO(gotta love government issue!) One Big Gulp stop, the subsequent 4 bathroom stops, and a Slim Jim later, she was making her way into the city limits of Springwood. She almost got lost trying to find the right address, until she figured out that the whole place was pretty much laid out in a grid form…a bit of searching after terrible directions from a store clerk and she pulled up in front of the simple little brick house…1219 Hawthorn Street. .oO(they need to mow the grass, I do think…) She knocked on the front door for about 10 minutes and turned to leave, thinking with frustration she must have wrong place. Or maybe they just left…hard to tell with all the curtains drawn around the place. She was down to the bottom of the steps again when she heard the door open behind her. Turning back, she was faced with a haggard looking guy…looked almost in his 30’s with darkened eyes and sunken cheeks. Couldn’t be Will…Will was supposed to be in his late teens…
“Oh…I’m sorry…I must have the wrong address here…terribly sorry…maybe you can help me though…I’m looking for a couple of kids...or well, I guess they’re only a little younger than me, but that’s really beside the point and I’m starting to ramble but anyway, they’re names are Lori and Will…I was wanting to talk to them about some stuff.”
“Look, we’ve told you people everything you need to know. Leave us in peace…Christ…can’t you just leave us in peace?!” He was about to turn and slam the door, but Nicole stuck a booted foot in the jam.
“Whoa…back up…*you’re* Will then? Whoever you think I am, I don’t thin I’m them…I just want to talk. I’m not a reporter, I’m not FBI…” He looked at her warily, but didn’t yet move so she continued on. “Let’s just say I have a personal…intrigue in some information you might have…”
Will looked at her confusion across his face. A thin girl, looking just as rough as the boy stepped into view behind him. “Who’s this…” She looks at Nicole with the same suspicion Will carried. “No more reporters…” This must be Lori…guess they’ve had a rough couple months. Nicole just smile to her. “No reporter here…not fond of the media myself…like I just told your boyfriend, I’m here just to talk.”
Lori and Will exchanged a look, then back up to let Nicole in. She looked around the place…it was clean…just dark…and fairly sparse. Lori gestured to the couch so Nicole walked over and had a seat. Lori sat down at the other end of the couch and Will in the recliner opposite them. .oO(No television…wonder why?) The couple shared another look between them before Lori spoke up. “You’re not from here…at least I don’t ever remember seeing you before. Who are you? And more to the point, what do you know about Freddy?”
Nicole quirked a brow at the mention of that name…it hadn’t come up in any of her inquiries. “Oh…terribly sorry…should’ve made introductions at the door…I’m Nicole.” She smiled to the two residents of the place, but didn’t get one in return. .oO(oookaaay.) “But anyway…I’m not here about Freddy…don’t know they guy…I’m here about Jason Voorhees…I understand he took a little trip through here…and you guys took him back…home I guess you would call it. Was just curious if maybe you could give me some information on the guy…we’ve kinda got him in custody now…but you know bosses…they never tell you anything.” She grinned at the couple again but Lori looked at her a bit puzzled and Will just looked downright fearful. “What do you mean, you have him in custody? He’s alive?” Lori’s mind flashes back to the memory of Jason’s body sinking down under the water, eyes closing.
“Uhm…yeah? Apparently…we have him…and he was walking around when we found him…”
Will jumped up and looked at her. “Kill him…you have to kill him. Or he’ll kill you. All of you…you have to find a way to kill him…or he’ll just keep coming after you…” Lori, for her part, didn’t look so sure. “Can I see him?”


Jason’s POV

Still stalking…hunting…there are more bad ones out there. There always are. He winds his way through forest that would easily have anyone else lost in 10 minutes time. But this was his forest. His lake. And he had to keep the bad ones away. Still working his way through unseen paths, things began to get slightly unfamiliar. Landmarks were out of place…even the smell didn’t seem quite ri No No…something was very not right. He looks around, through the hazy fog but the place seems to be changing with ever turn of his head. This wasn’t his woods…this wasn’t his lake. He heard a dark chuckle that somehow sounded familiar to him and the forest just seemed to melt away leaving him standing in the middle of a street. He recognized it though. He was just here…not long ago. Where Mommy had sent him…no wait…not Mommy…Mommy hadn’t wanted that. He’d been tricked. He heard children laughing in a yard up ahead and walked towards the sound. The children…someone should be watching the children…he was sure they weren’t though. They were off being bad. And not paying attent He He stopped in front of a shabby old house that used to be white when it was fully painted. In the yard there was a solitary little girl jumping rope and singing. “Ooone, twooo, Freddy’s coming for you! Threee, fourrr, better lock your door! Fiiive, six, grab your crucifix!” She stopped off there and turned around, hearing Jason’s approach. Her face had no eyes…just empty bloody holes staring out. “He’s waiting for you.” She points to the front door left open an can can make out the outline of a man’s figure. But the man doesn’t stay there…he turns and moves further into the house. He looks back down at the little girl who is still pointing at the house and moves on there with his steady heavy pace. Once inside, he looks in the direction the man went…feeling for the familiar force of life that everyone carries with them. It wasn’t there. He thinks this is strange but walks on in the direction he saw the man go. Turning down a hall, the dark chuckle he had heard earlier resounds around and the door at the end of the hall slams shut. He walks down to that door, feeling sure that the man was hiding in there. He would be punished for what happened to the little girl. The man should have been watching her…then she would be alright. Just as he was about to raise an arm to knock the door down, it flew open revealing a dimly lit room. Unwary, he stepped inside, looking around emptempty room. There was nothing but shadows playing on the wall…but movement flickered in the corner of his eye and he turned round and round trying to catch sight of it. To kill the man. Must kill the man. A faint noise caught his attention and he turned to its source…it was coming from the top of the walls…water…pouring down like a water fall. He hated water. It was cold and heavy and terrible. The sound seemed to get louder as more and more water rushed into the room. Then the laugh again. He turned quickly to see the one he had been chasing…recognizing him at once, with his burned flesh and bladed hand.
“Did you think I’d forgotten about you, Jason? Did you think we were really done? We’ve only just begun to play!!” The anger surged up as the man laughed again and he stepped forward, machete raised. When he swung, though, the blade just ed ted through and the man disappeared only to rake those blades on his fingers across his back. He turned quickly but the man was already gone again, propped in another corner of the room, water pouring down around him. Jason stepped forward again, swinging the machete, the movement cut short when the burned manght ght the blade and deflected it to one side, with a kick to his ribs. He stepped backwards a few paces with the force of the blow. The man was stronger than he appeared. It was only then that he realized that the water was building up…it was already knee deep in the room. And filling fast. The dream demon laughed darkly again, “Getting the picture, pup? I may be cut off from my children…but I still have you!” Jason leapt forward to attack again, but the man was gone once more. The man was at his side stabbing cruelly with the bladed fingers. He was finally able to get hold of him and tossed him across the room into a wall. Jason moved to go after him again but when he took two steps he realized the wataistaist deep to him already. He had to get out…the room was full of water…he had to get out. Instead of going after the burned one, he changed course and began pounding on the door to break it down. It wouldn’t even creak. Thatn’t n’t right…it was only wood…it should have splintered and fallen apart. It was creeping up again…past the anger…past the hatred. Fear. The laughter and the sound of falling water were all around. And he couldn’t get out…he couldn’t get out…
He was trembling all over as the water continued to rise. He dropped the machete using both hands to pound futilely at the heavy wooden door. He heard the laughter over and over as the water rose higher and higher finally over his head. And then it was all gone…just wet clothes and floor that he had crumpled down to, squatting with arms wrapped around his knees. And the clothes were far too big, coming down over his hands and bunching around too large boots. The mask was still over his face but seemed huge on him. A hand grabbed the back of his neck and picked him up off the ground, feet not even touching the floor now. The man slammed him face first into the wall, and struck the mask off his head, cutting the side of his face in the process. He was shaking all over still and that burned face too close to him whispering in his ear. “Let’s play, shall we, pup?”

TBC, if anyone thinks it’s worth continuing…