Halves

The Cabanas

"The hell?"

Mark agreed with that assessment. In front of them was what looked like a bridge of small houses stretching across a fogged-over lake. Across the front of the first one was written "CCL" in hurried black writing.

"CCL mean anything to you?" Isabel asked, looking at him in confusion.

"...Chocolate chip lovers?"

"Given the theme of the park so far, I doubt that's what it means."

"You never know!"

Isabel grinned and stepped onto the porch of the first house, pushing the door open. The inside was lit by lamp lying on its side where the force of whatever knocked over the stand had left it. The inside was trashed. The couch was torn to shreds, most of the heavier objects like the tv and cabinets had been smashed to the ground, while any light objects were broken and the majority had deep gouges in them.

"Looks like hurricane went through here," Mark muttered, running his hand over one of the long tears in the couch.

"Or a chase."

"What?"

Mark turned to Isabel, who grunted and pulled something from the wall. She held out what looked like a bolt for a crossbow.

"Something was hunting in here."

Mark eyed the weapon then shook his head.

"No crossbow could do all this."

"So the person missed and entered the building to finish the job."

Isabel finished her sentence an instant before a very bloody very naked teenage girl ran into the room, screaming. Mark and Isabel caught her, smearing blood all over themselves in the process.

"He's coming! HE'S COMING!!!!"

"Who?" Isabel asked, hurriedly brushing the girl's hair out of her face. The girl gasped before letting out a gurgle, growing a black spined horn from her throat. Both Mark and Isabel dropped her in shock, before Mark noticed the figure in the doorway. His eyes locked on the dirty white of an old hockey mask.

"RUN!!!!!" Mark screamed, shoving Isabel as the massive man dropped the crossbow and pulled out a machete. Their feet pounded the floor, sounding cartoonishly staccato compared to the bass drum footsteps of their pursuer. The cabins were connected, barely slowing the two down as they sprinted. When the footsteps silenced, Mark pulled Isabel down behind a couch that had been moved by someone. The top and far side to them had been covered in an apparent attempt to make a fort.

Isabel had her hand over her mouth, though Mark could tell she was sobbing. He pulled her into an embrace, shaking.

"C-CCL," Isabel whispered, tears streaming down her face, "Camp Crystal Lake."

Mark hugged her tighter, mind not wanting to process that he had just watched a girl die, that they were stuck in a string of mini homes where an old school slasher was hunting, that there were others Jason had killed.

Isabel slowly returned the embrace, sobbing silently into Mark's bloody shirt. Mark closed his eyes, focusing on her warmth. He was shaking too, and still trying to absorb what had happened.

"There was nothing we could have done. We...we still have to make it out."

Isabel nodded against him, pulling back gently. Her eyes were red.

"Y-y-yeah. We should. Go. We....yeah."

Mark pulled out of Isabel's grasp and crawled out of the make-shift crevice, glancing behind himself to make sure she was following. She was, though tremors still ran down her body and her arms, despite being smeared in red, remained wrapped tight around her chest. They walked into the next house, only to stop dead. Blood was splattered all over the room, while in the middle another girl lay curled up in a pool of deep crimson.