her camp crystal lake killer (Jason Voorhees x y/n)

THREE

The sun had long settled by the time I finished cleaning my cabin. I was lucky enough to find some cleaning supplies in the main house, put away in the very back of the pantry. Just when I was nearly finished cleaning, Mabel came stumbling into my room. Words a mear drunken slur.

I sighed, running my hands down my face as Mabel  stud in the doorway of my small cabin.

"Come on iris." She pleaded. "They are drinking and telling stories. It just isn't the same without you being there."

I groaned. Nodding my head. Mabel squealed as she grabbed my hand, dragging me down the steps.

I didn't feel confident leaving Mabel and Connor drunk and alone with Alex, Max and Luke. And never Mind Lukes father.  All of them give me the creeps. But if Enduring sitting around a camp fire, watching them all drink meant making sure both are safe. Then I'll do it.

I will always put them before me.

It makes up for all the times they helped me through tough times.

I followed Mabel as she stepped over a big thick log. My muscles tense. I felt awkward surrounded by the alcohol bottles. But thankfully, there was no drugs. At least not that I could see.

Music thumbed through the air, spreading a throbbing head ache with each beat of music. I didn't want to be here, and yet Mabel still managed to get me surrounded by them.

"Anyone here heard about the legend behind this piece of shit camp?" Luke questioned, eyes flickering around the camp fire. Watching intently.

I knew a few people had gone missing here, that was just about all I knew.

"Come on." Max groaned. "Not this again."

Luke's eyes flicked around. Face suddenly serious. "Years ago their was a little boy. So hideous the campers compared him to a demon. He didn't have any friends, other than his bat shit crazy mother who worked as a cook." He gestured to the kitchen in the main house.

"One day, the kids had enough of him being around. Put a bag over his face and threw him in the lake.." Luke grinned. "Only he couldn't swim. The councillors where to busy fucking, to care." Luke picked up a rock, throwing it into the flames.

"He died making his mother go even crazier. Murdered any councillors who tried to re-open the place. She lost her head to one of them. And now." Luke, spread his legs wide. Leaning forward. And a pause. "They say he came back to life, picking up where his mother left off and his name? Jason Voorhees, and his bat shit crazy mother? Pamela Voorhees."

I dropped my head to the ground. The crackling of the fire Blurred to the background of my head. The name did ring a lot of bells. Had nearly killed all the councillors instead of one. Who chopped her head off with a machete, not that long later the last surviving councillor went missing.

I hate what humanity has classed as normal. "That isn't funny." I finally spoke, stopping the sound of laughter that fluttered between the group. My throat constricted, closing up as it denied air it's passageway into my lungs.

"Lighten up it's only a story." Alex finally spoke. "It's told to keep teens away from the camp."

I shook my head. "There is some truth to it, Legends originate through something. And it isn't something to be laughed about - what that little boy was forced to go through isn't something to be laughed about."

Max grinned. "What? You scared Jason Voohrees will slit your throat in the middle of the night?"

Connor and Mabel were too drunk to speak, cold bear bottles in their hands as they danced close to the main house.

Normally - I'd say my thoughts and move on. But who knows how many people spoke down on the Voorhees name, for something that wasn't even their fault.

"If he did come to slit my throat, rightfully so." I stood to my full hight. The corner of my eyes stinging with tears. "With the way you all are talking down on his mother is horrible, him slitting my throat as I slept would be giving me mercy."

I walked away, turning a deaf ear to their words. Not that it mattered much, each word was slurred and unclear. I doubted either of them would remember this conversation in the morning.

Night time at camp looked so beautiful. The stars and moon looked so bright. It almost made all the horrors of the world melt into something insignificant. Being in the city, I rarely got to see the sky looking like this.

But every time I blink, or even breath I imagine how Jason felt. Studying medicine meant I knew how the little boy felt in his last moments, I could imagine how he felt, how he looked. But I couldn't imagine how His mother felt.

It broke my heart, the fact that even when he died, he still didn't get the peace anyone else could. Heck even killers got rest when they took their last breath. And it made me wonder, did anyone but Mrs.Voorhees care about the death of the little boy? Or did anyone even pay respect to them both.

I shook my head, toes grazing the water as tears clouded my eyes. I'm crying for Jason and his mother even though I never met them. I thought I had seen it all, heard it all as I studied in college. After all, I didn't drink or attend parties like the other students. I didn't even have a boyfriend, never been kissed either. Kids can be cruel for not fitting in.

I didn't need a light when the moon had lit the whole camp up perfectly. Through teary eyes I can see Daisy's.

I forced myself up off the edge of the Dock. That little boy and his mother deserved respect.

I picked a number of the flowers, the ball thick in my hand as I made my way over to the edge of the dock.

My mouth is dry as I take a shaky breath. I don't know if I can do this without crying.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you." My voice wobbled. "I hope that…I hope that you are somewhere nice. And that you and your mommy are together." I shaked my head, and yet again. The feeling of a heated gaz on the back of my neck is heavy. But I shake it off. I'm just paranoid - especially after that story. 

"You both didn't deserve what they did to you." I placed the Daisies in the water, watching as they floated. I Watched as the petals dipped underneath, and bobbing back up as small ripples flicker through the water.

A small bit of ease fell through me. At least someone paid the pair respect.

"Don't tell me they are for the freak." Luke spat. I sighed, turning my head. "He isn't a freak, He's only a little boy." My voice cracked.

"Little boy's don't get compared to a "monster." Now do they?" He grinned, throwing his head back in a laugh.

I stud, hand balled into a fist. "He isn't the monster here. You are." I pointed my finger at him, eyes narrowed. "What type of person calls an innocent child names." I threw my hands in the air. "And one that is dead none the less, let him rest in peace"

I stormed away, but not without bumping shoulders with Luke.

I couldn't take being around the group any more. And in that moment, I made the decision to stay away from them.  If it wasn't clear for Me before. It was now.