Fear

Just putting in a little disclaimer here. Don't own Jason, don't own Freddy, don't own Lori or Will. I'm just playing with them for a little while and not making any money or fame from them. Enjoy.

Prologue

Some many nights passed since that one particular night. That night when he had tasted true fear for the first time since his rising. He had felt vulnerable that night. Weak. But not this night. This night he feels that power again. The strength. The anger. They were back. The bad ones. They had come back to his lake and they needed to be punished. That is why he is here. To punish the bad ones. Mommy said so. He stalks through the wooded camp, fog swirling around the imposing form. Ragged dark clothes hanging loosely from, hm, hockey mask in place, and machete in hand. He could feel their lives, their heartbeats, all around him, like rats infesting a house. The bad ones were everywhere. He stops, not far from the camp proper, the kitchen being the closest building to him. He looks around, something strange nagging at the back of his thoughts. They weren’t fleeing…that was it. They were coming closer. Not like they were hunted…like they were hunting! He tilted his head to one side, puzzled…but not afraid. He could see them now with their weapons drawn. Their weapons mean nothing. Bullets carry a sharp pain, but it is a fleeting one, gone almost as soon as it arrives. He is still not afraid. Loud clicks echo around…not like gunfire he has heard many times before. Different. And it is not followed by that familiar shpainpain. He looks down and sees the darks buried throughout his chest and shoulders. He feels them across his back as well. Waves of dizziness wash over him. He takes a few more steps towards the ones closets to him. He can hear their muttering back and forth to one another. They will be silent soon enough. He can locks eyes with one of them now and can see the shock and terror in his eyes that he has seen in many eyes before. Another round of loud clicks sounds out and more darts join the others buried in his flesh. He wants to keep moving toward them. To punish them as he is supposed to. But the dizziness swirls around his vision until all turns black. The hulking form wavers a moment, then pitches face forward onto the wet ground as the group moves forward cautiously to secure the target.


Chapter I

Nicole Sherriden’s POV

“Good Lord…we’ve pumped enough tranqs into the guy to kill and elephant…that can’t be good…” The soft, female voice was filled with awe and touched with concern.
“Yeah…wicked cool, huh? You think the docs can really figure out how he does that?” The voice replying is masculine with a confident, perhaps arrogant lilt to it.
The young woman turned her head to look up at her current partner. “Well…probably. I just don’t see what the whole point is…I guess…I dunno…I guess I just don’t think it’s right.” She turned back to look at the hulking form strapped and chained down to the gurney in the cell he was currently locked in. Cell…it was an iron cage within a steel cell with one wall formed of 3 layers bullet proof glass for observation.
“Hmph! Don’t go getting all more-righteous-than-thou on me, Sherriden. That thing in there is just a walking slaughterhouse. It’s not even a person…it’s a thing. A mass murdering *thing.* This is the only right way to go about it. So can it.”
“Fuck you, Clarke.” Nicole Sherriden settled back in the office chair behind the observation desk. She spent the rest of the shift sitting there staring at him on the table, thinking. He was not an ‘it.’ He was a person. A person with a name: Jason Voorhees. She sighed and wondered who Jason Voorhees was. Did he have parents? Did he have siblings? Friends? Anything that might contribute to a semblance of a normal life? She pondered the few facts that their unit had been given. And that was only the barest of details. Location: Site of the former Camp Crystal Lake. Description: 6’ 3” 250 lbs with hockey mask and dark clothes. And he’s tough…very tough. Was why they hadn’t gone after him after the FBI’s failed attempt. Until they learned of another trick that had worked some months ago…even if for only a short while. I just needed to be maintained. He couldn’t be killed…or so they said. But he could be put to sleep. Her thoughts turned back again to Jason Voorhees himself. Not the target…the person. She just didn’t know enough about him and what brought him where he was now. “I will though…”
“Whadja say, Sherriden?” Clarke looked up from his paper at her.
“Nothing Clarke…nothing...just thinking out loud.” She never even shifted her gaze from the figure on the gurney. When the monitor indicated the finest hint of movements indicating wakefulness she pressed the buttons and more tranquilizers soothed him back to the realm of dreams.


Jason’s POV

He didn’t feel the hard ground jolting his bones with the force of his fall. He was already in another realm. He was stalking quietly through his woods, hunting again. Hunting as always. They needed to be punished. They were bad. There was the sound of giggling and a loud splash. He turned and made his way down the familiar path alongside the water’s edge towards the dock. Through the tree line he could see them. They were always the same. Intoxicated boy already swimming in the dark water of the lake. Big breasted girl, more concerned with impressing the boy than on the things she should be most concerned with. They should have been watching the children. Horrible things could happen to the children while they were down here with each other. The boy sank below the surface as the girl dropped her clothes. She had barely stepped from the pool of cloth around her ankles when he moved forward. Sensing his presence the girl turned quickly, her surprised cry cut short by a powerful hand around her throat, dragging her into the tree line. He pulled the machete from the makeshift sheath at his waist and plunged it into her belly repeatedly. The look of pain crossed her face for several seconds, blood bubbling up and spilling over her lips as the life fades from her eyes. He could hear the boy calling for her now from the lake. He dropped the body to the ground with a soft thud and turned his attention to the boy. More splashing could be heard as the boy came out of the water, that almost fearful, but not quite yet lookhis his face. He let the boy scramble into his clothing as he looked around, calling the girl’s name. He wondered to himself if they ever even owned swimsuits. Why did they always have to swim in his lake naked? It was absurd to him and only reinforced his anger. The random thought, though, was pushed away as the boy walked cautiously towards the girl’s clothing, still piled on the ground. He followed the scuffed ground from her feet dragging all the way to where her body was slumped on the ground in a pool of dark blood. The boy knelt down beside her, trembling all over as he turned her over, whispering her name, only to see surely what he already knew. Hearing the heavy footsteps of his approach, the boy turned quickly, terror now across his face. He could feel the anger surging forward again. The boy was bad. The boy was afraid because he knew he was bad and he knew he needed to be punished. He raised the already bloody blade and swung swiftly, cutting through flesh and bone as though it were nothing more than a slice of cake. The boy’s body slumped down over the girl’s as he pulled the blade back out again with a slick sound. He turned then and began stalking his woods for another. There was always another.