Jason Voorhees x Reader

9: Enternal belonging

Summer, July 1979, ?? ????

Breathing shakily and trying not to scream and cry, you slumped down further into the saturated mattress, hopelessly cupping the sides of the face with your trembling hands. Your chest heaving with terror and agony, blood that felt like fire coursing through your veins, you couldn't believe what was just said.

Jason stepped away from you off of the tattered mattress and began to impatiently pace back and forth in front of you on the wooden floorboards. You could hear his deep, rapid breaths through to supposed shell of his hockey mask. His back was particularly hunched over and he had to duck his head slightly so as to not hit it on the mahogany rafters that lined the ceiling.

His arms were still slumped to his sides, one of his hands still clenched the machete. It was strange, you almost forgot about the machete, it just seemed to become a part of him. You couldn't believe that this was once the innocent, helpless and beaten boy that you went to summer camp with. He just seemed to slip away~became something else. A monster.

"Jason...?" You grumbled blankly, looking at him as if curious about something. Jason stopped pacing and froze. He slowly turned his head to look at you and you held your breath.
"Take it off..." You said boldly pointing up at your own face. Jason stood there, at least 5 feet in front of you, his chest heaving with disapproval as he immediately understood what you wanted him to do.

You wanted him to take off his mask.

Jason just stood there for seemingly forever as he just stared at you blankly, or at least you thought that his stare was blank; you couldn't make out anything underneath that damned hockey mask. Finally, Jason responded, but not the way you wanted. He just slowly shook his head 'No'.

Disgruntled by his response, you narrowed your eyes. Yes, you knew about Jason's deformities but if you were stuck here for a while, he could at least reveal to you the face of your childhood acquaintance.
"Why? It's just me, there's no one else here." You added. Jason just turned away and vigorously shook his head, it was clearly bothering him so you decided to slack off a little so you didn't annoy him too much.

"It's fine, just- it's fine, forget it." You assured, making a 'Calm down' gesture with your hands. Buy he could tell you were angry with him. Jason stopped his motions and stared at you again, after a few seconds, he paused and looked over to the desk on the opposite side of the room. He tilted his head and stepped closer to it.

Jason scanned the paper coated desk as if looking for something. After about 15 seconds of rummaging along the desk, he found something. As smaller, thicker piece of paper, water dripped off of it slightly as he shook it off. He eyed it for a split second before walking over to you, looking down at his designated path to follow just to avoid breaking the fragile floorboards.

When he finally reached the bed, his reached over to you with the white paper in hand. He was handing it to you. You looked down at it, then after a few seconds, you took the white gift in hand. You glanced up at Jason before turning the paper over.

The white paper slowly became something different, more colourful. You examined it further and a switch flipped on your memory. It was a photograph of everyone from Camp Crystal Lake, a class photo if you will. Everyone was sat on elevated benches; one row standing on the ground behind the benches, one row sitting on the benches and another row sitting on the ground before the benches. The camp councillors were in the photo too but they barely made their presence known; they were just gazing off into thin air.

You concentrated on a particular child, a child sitting in the front row on the very left.

It was you.