Friday the 13th

[christian7_41king]

Jason was wondering the woods at midnight listening to the sounds of the forest. the air was clear and the moon was full. he was dieing to kill and for something more it had been lonly these past year. 99 men dead. he sighed killing seemed stupid right now. his grip tightened on his machete, his emotionless cold eyes stareing out from his hockymask as he slowly walked with purpose. his layers of cloths proctecting him from the chill of the night not that he need the protection. he was a dead man walking brought back to life as a vengeful spirit he slowly stalked the woods looking for something to kill, he wanted something more then death of others he wanted comapny of the female veriety.

 

[k3llz]

The camp fire flickered, warming the chill in the air and lighting the small campsite. It was more or less a yearly tradition for the three friends--find a new spot to camp during the full moon, spend the night telling stories, tripping on whatever cocktail of drugs they managed to procure, reflecting on human nature and how much things have changed.

Layla sat by the fire, prodding a burning log with a sharp stick. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her clothes were dirty from a full day spent frolicking in the woods with her friends. They had since retired to their shared tent, leaving Layla alone, with her own tent waiting just a few feet away. There were a few bottles laying around, and she reached for a half full bottle of something, taking a sip with out paying attention to what it was.

Vodka. She almost choked when it hit the back of her throat. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she laid back on the ground, enjoying the feeling of the cool earth against her bare arms and legs. She laid still--almost motionless--as she listened to the insects buzzing. She intently watched the sky with her green eyes--the truth of the matter was, falling stars were a very common thing. They were just hard to see in the city, and even harder to see if you weren't paying attention.

Did she hear something? She lifted her head up, and looked in the direction she thought she heard a sound coming from--but there was only the crackling of the fire. Was it the weed or the shrooms that were making her paranoid? She couldn't be sure.

But with her friends sleeping just a few feet away, she felt safe. They had been camping in rougher areas before. And if she was too afraid to sleep by herself, she knew she was always more than welcome in their tent.

 

[christian7_41king]

Jason scolded him self as a twig snapped he was unseen though as he watched one girl look up at the stars. he saw evidence of their evil drinking drugs. he shook his head he would kill the girl on any other night but he knew she was perfect and yet not perfect. his warped mind thinking of what to do. he then made a bold move he came out of hiding and stood over the girl and cocked his head. he couldnt wait. he put the machete near her neck and put a finger up to tell her to be quite. he then moved and sat next to her by the fire.

 

[k3llz]

She must have dozed off for a moment because when she was next opened her eyes, she was staring upside down at a masked man. She stared blankly for a moment. Her heart rate gradually started to increase as she realized that no, she wasn't hallucinating. The machete he held near her neck was real and he could probably slit her throat so deeply that she couldn't even scream.

Imagining her own pathetic gurgling death, she pressed her lips together and nodding, indicating that she would comply and be quiet. She closed her eyes again, waiting for death--but instead she head him sit down.

"We don't have any money," she said quietly. "And people will be looking for us if we're not back tomorrow."

 

[christian7_41king]

Jason looked at her coking his head in confusetion. then pointed his vocal cords and and made a motion like a slice and then lifted his head revealing a nasty scar that should have killed him. he then stared into the fire for awhile then he wrote in the dirt in a sorta broken english "lonley need comapny you do" he pointed to the words. then wrote his name and some other words "jason i kill people" the word people seemed like it was hard for him to write. he looked at her with eyes that was sad and distant at the same time.

 

[k3llz]

"Ohhh," she nodded slowly. He couldn't talk. She sat upright, her movements deliberate--she didn't want to startle him and scare him off. If that happened who knew if or when he would be back, and if he did come back... who knew what he would do?

She titled her head to read what he was writing in the dirt.

"Oh," she said again. He'd probably kill them. She was trembling, but tried not to show it, hiding her shaking hands as she tried to think of what to say. "I have company," she motioned her head towards the tent her friends were sleeping in. "I'm Layla. I, uh..." she stammered, nervously. "I play piano."

Her mind flipped through countless thoughts in the span of each deep breath she took. If she was going to die, she might as well make peace with it. Hey, stoned is the way to go, right? Or fuck that. Go down with a fight. Peace will find her afterwards regardless of how she went. And her friends--sleeping or passed out just a few feet away. If she used them to distract him, she could probably get away. Sure, she wasn't in the best shape, but she was limber. Though what kind of odds did she stand against... Jason? He probably knew these woods by heart. But what if he was just playing a prank? She had actor friends--they were always pulling shit pranks on each other. The stage make up to create a scar wouldn't have to be so elaborate in the dark. And any method actor could mimic the distant cold stare of a killer... right?

"Do you... kill people because that's what some one tried to do to you?"

Delving into the mind of a possible psychopath. It wasn't like she had any better ideas.

 

[christian7_41king]

jason thought a moment then nodded and wrote in the dirt "i dead came for mom to make me feel better saw her dead by people like you." he thought again and then added "i hate being alone. but i hate people who don't care who they hurt. others or selves." Jason hated his past and the people who made him who he was. he looked at layla then wrote "i use to play guitar when little. " he then looked back the fire after a long silence wrote "you live with me."

 

[k3llz]

She had watched her fair share of cop flicks. Hostage negotiation scenes were what she was flipping through--trying remember anything the character did to avoid getting killed that seemed reasonable.

Jason's train of thought seems to ramble on. He was a misanthrope who was tired to being alone. He was a victim who now made victims of others to make himself feel better. Well, everyone was certainly entitled to self medicate, but Layla usually drew the line at chemical means.

She knew her best bet at survival would be bringing out whatever shards of humanity he had left.

"I can't live with you," she said carefully, trying to pick her words carefully. "I live some place else."