I've Never Heard Of You...

He paced the long, narrow catwalk, his boots making hard noises as they rattled the metal with each step. He, finally, had the girl where he needed her. But, he wasn't dumb enough to believe he could trick her somehow into knocking her behemoth companion out. And, since he didn't sleep, Freddy had no chance of attacking him in that way, either. His only option was to be brought back into the real world, once again. And, to do that, he needed the head that Voorhees had taken as a trophy, back. But, how could he convince the girl to do that? To bring him his own head back.

He continued to pace, his footsteps falling harder and harder in frustration, while the wheels in his head turned. He would have to study her. Keep an eye on her dreams and figure out something she might want. Perhaps, he could offer her something, in return for the small favour of throwing his head in the lake, back to his body? But, what? He would have to earn her trust, a difficult thing to do, no doubt, considering his recent assault on her person. A smile graced his lips, at the memory. 'Yes, my pet...' he said, softly. And, then it hit him.

Jason was, now, as he was- undead, in a respect. But, unlike Jason, he had been given powers that pretty much kept him 'whole,' in a sense. In a very important sense, anyway. Voorhees, however, only had vital functions in his favour. Brute strength and the heartbeat of the dead. Over his many reincarnations, he seemed to have lost anything that -wasn't- vital to his undead, zombie-like survival. That included a sex drive and the equipment. And, the girl would surely want to rekindle -that- particular bit of their relationship. Why? Freddy would never understand it. He'd seen what Jason looked like as a child and called it like he'd seen it: an ugly little shit. There was no way he could have grown up without getting even uglier. But, Freddy had no idea what Jason looked like in between the time when he was a child to when the girl had been with him.

Perhaps, if he sat through her dreams on a few occasions, she might summon the image he would need. He could bargain with her, then. Give her the Jason she would crave in exchange for his head. It was the only chance he had, really, so there wasn't an option of whether he would attempt it or not. He paused, and tapped his bottom lip, in thought. The girl was already insane, a fighter and obviously focused on one person. He didn't suppose he could seduce her, himself and convince her to do his bidding. Not with Jason around, anyway. And, even if he wasn't... Freddy shook his head. It was a challenge, though. After being given the ability to roam the real world once again, what would be better than to rub in Voorhees's face that his little pet slut was under Freddy's control? Belonged to Freddy, now? He could do whatever he wanted with the girl, then, and Voorhees would be helpless, only able to watch as he tore the girl apart in front of him. The very thought of it had him hard.

Now was not the time for such indulgences, however.

He stood in the cover of the woods. It was dark, the clouds hiding the moon's light. She stood at the edge of the dock, facing away from the water. Voorhees stood at the other end of the dock, staring directly back at her. Neither one of them moved. They could have been statues if not for the motions of both of their chests, heaving with breath. There was an air of indecision all around the place. They were summing each other up.

Unfortunately, for their observer, Voorhees looked as he had when the girl was awake. She seemed to be attempting to make sense of the 'new' Jason Voorhees before her. He no longer had the fleshy tone of human skin. Now, it was something else entirely. Dark, burned, scarred and partially decayed. His clothing hung on his body by mere threads. The hockey mask, though seen in pictures, was still unfamiliar to her in reality. His hands were gloved and gripped his infamous machete as if it were an actual extension of his arm.

The girl was the polar opposite. Her skin was smooth and clean. A pale creamy pink colour. Her hair was a dark red colour and shined even in the darkness. She wore a tattered sheet around herself. Freddy didn't understand the significance of it, but assumed that Jason and the girl did. She held it closed with a fist to her chest. Her eyes were the freakiest colour blue Freddy had ever seen. He'd never noticed it before, when he'd seen her covered in dirt and blood. Never cared to look until now. All cleaned up and not on a psychotic rampage, the girl was extremely attractive. Could use a bit more meat on her bones, but that was really the only complaint he could summon against her. How in ANY realm of reality, Voorhees could have had her was beyond all comprehension.

If he had had that, he'd have used it and made damn sure she kept screaming his name every night. In all ways, if necessary.

There wasn't the slightest trace of fear in her eyes. Freddy would change that in his own time. He made himself that promise.

There was nothing here, otherwise, however. A total lack of action of any kind. It was asure sign that the girl had lost her mind, having the ability to focus her dream on one single thing like this.

She opened her eyes to darkness, once again. Her back was stinging and she hissed a breath in pain as she tried to move. Other parts of her body were still in pain, as well, but her back hurt the worst. She moaned and turned her head, greeted by the floor-level window covered with a layer of dust and cob webs so thick that light couldn't have possibly shone through, even in the daytime. To the side of the window frame was a large, dark shadow. Jason. She couldn't make out the details of him, but she could -feel- that it was him. He sat, cross-legged on the mattress, watching her, carefully. She stretched her arm out and gripped a handful of the cloth of his shirt. 'Jason,' she muttered.

Tears, once again, blurred her vision. She was home. Truly home. Her muscles screamed in agony as she moved. She dragged herself over the mattress, and crawled into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. He didn't move or even make a sound as she climbed over him, but he flinched back, as her hand reached for his mask. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from his face. She wrinkled her brow in confusion and disappointment. His new body and it's appearance wasn't lost on him. He was well aware of it, in fact. Until this very moment, he'd never even thought about it. But, if the girl removed his mask, this time, she would surely run from him and he would, potentially be forced to end her.