Dogma (Will) Voorhees (willdogma) wrote in _jason_voorhees,
Dogma (Will) Voorhees

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This community has been quiet for a while, man!

So, in the hopes that it might liven things up, I will post an original short story that I worte. It's one of the few things I've written that I actually LIKE. Enjoy!


A cold breeze drifted its way off the glassy surface of Crystal Lake. It washed over his rotting skin and his scarred and pitted hockey mask, swirling around him. He didn’t feel it. He never did. The cold never bothered him. It was inconsequential. He slowly walked through the darkened forest, not bothering to stay in the shadows. There was no need for that anymore. Everyone knew that he was there, and the smart ones stayed away. He hated the smart ones, almost as much as he hated the stupid ones. The young people that would loudly descend upon Crystal Lake, with their carousing and carrying on. With their copulation and their negligence. They had let him die. They let him slip beneath the surface of the lake and cease to be.
He walked along the shore of the Lake, the cold water lapping at his shoes. The water seeped into his shoes, but his feet were incapable of feeling it. All at once, the forest grew silent. Dead silent. There were no animal sounds, no chirping of grasshoppers, and the wind stopped blowing as well. Jason looked around at the woods and across the surface of the lake. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, until he glanced back towards the former campgrounds. There were cabins there, when moments ago had been none. Jason stared at them, not comprehending. Then, out of the darkness, a figure walked towards the lake and knelt at the edge, not ten meters from where Jason stood. A young woman in a yellow blouse. Jason cocked his head to one side. This one looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t place her. No matter. She would die like the rest of them. But then another figure crept up behind the first one, and this made Jason stop dead in his tracks. His eye widened as he took in the new visage. A very angry woman wearing a blue sweater and wielding a machete.
She howled with rage, and tried to slash the other woman with her machete. Jason watched; confusion in his mind. It all seemed so familiar, but WHY? In a moment of clarity, it came to him. The girl was the one who killed his mother in cold blood. The same one that he killed some time after that. He remembered this night as well. He remembered watching from underneath the smooth water as this girl viciously ended his mother’s life. Rage flowed through him as he watched the scene unfold.
Alice kicked Mrs. Voorhees as hard as she could. The maniac staggered backwards down the sandy shore. Alice looked down at her feet and saw the machete that moments ago was trying to end her own life. She quickly snatched it up and looked up at Pamela. She ran towards her, the machete raised high. Pamela screamed as Alice stopped and swung the machete right at her neck. A loud clash of metal echoed off of the trees, and there was a brief flash of sparks that lit up the dark night. Both Pamela and Alice looked at the machete, which was now being blocked by another one. They both followed the machete to the arm, and the arm to the masked face of Jason Voorhees. Alice’s eyes widened with fear at this new horror. She didn’t even react when Jason swatted her machete away with his own. He raised his arm, and swung his machete at her neck. It cleanly sliced through her neck, and her dismembered head landed at Jason’s feet. He bent down and grabbed a handful of hair and lifted it up. He turned and walked over to where his mother stood, still paralyzed with fear.
“J-Jason? Is that you? Can it be…?”
Jason nodded slightly. Pamela slowly walked to him and raised her hand to his mask. She gently touched it.
“My special boy. You came back! I always knew that you would. It’s something that I have been dreaming about ever since you died. Now… Let me look at you.”
She moved her hand to lift his mask from his face, and he stepped back quickly. He didn’t want her to see what he had become.
“It’s ok, my darling. Mommy’s here now. Nothing will ever separate us again. I love you so much.”
A new sensation filled Jason. Gone was the anger and rage that flowed through his body. It was now replaced with something else. A kind of warmth. Gone was the ever constant urge to kill. The machete, which he carried for so many years and ended so many lives with, slipped from his grasp and onto the ground. And he didn’t care. For the first time in Jason Voorhees’ death, he felt happiness. He had his mother back, and for good this time. He stepped back towards her, and bent over slightly. She slipped the mask off of his head and gazed at his face as he straightened back up.
“Oh, my beautiful boy! Look how handsome you are. You needn’t cover yourself with this dreadful mask anymore. “
She tossed it down next to his machete.
“Come, Jason. Let’s go home, and be a family again.”
He stared at her as she smiled that smile of hers. His eyes drifted to her neck, where he saw a thin ribbon of red form in the middle of her throat and spread around her neck. Jason cocked his head as he stared. Pamela stopped smiling.
“What’s the matter Jason? Is there something wrong?”
When the last word exited her mouth, her head slowly tipped backwards and thudded to the ground. Jason’s eye widened in terror as the head rolled to his feet, the eyes staring at him lifelessly. He stared at it in abject horror and confusion. What had happened? She was here with him, and she promised that they would be together forever! His shoulders slumped as the new happiness bled from him. He looked over at his mask and machete, and he felt the hate start reclaiming it’s place within him.
Suddenly, Jason’s eye snapped open. He looked around, and saw that he was standing in the middle of the woods, his mask on, and his machete in hand. A dream. It must have been only a dream. Jason sighed slightly, until he saw the beams of headlights pierce the darkness of the woods. More victims for him. The stupid ones.
He hated them.
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