Friday The 13th 2007

[The Liar XIII]

This is my Short Story "Friday The 13th 2007"
(WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS EXTREME VIOLENCE AND WORD CHOICE. READ IF YOU DARE!)
(This is only it so far, its not near completion)

[font="Times New Roman"]Thunder bellowed through the skies of Camp Crystal Lake. July 12th, 2007... Dark clouds hovered over the camp, The soggy grass glowed in the lightning. The fog made it hard to see
what was in front of you.. Sending a chill of fear down your spine.

“I, Wanna Rock n’ Roll All Night!! And Party Everyday!” Shouted Brent Jackson as him and a few
of his drunk friends speeded down the muddy roads of Crystal Lake. With Kiss blasting on the cars
stereo, the crowd in the large Oak Red coloured van couldn’t hear the wicked thunder that cracked
through the small town.

“Hey, Brent.. It’s a cemetery.. Lets do something stupid!” exclaimed a good friend, Wally Gordon.
Wally had curly red hair that caressed over his ears and forehead. “Nah.. I don’t know, Wally.. I’m sort of cautious on the situation.”

Wally stared him in the eyes, “Man, just like you.. Always chickening out.. Man, Let me out.. Me and the guys would go do something..”

The crowd walked off the large van cursing and mocking Brent. Brent locked the doors and drove down the road. “Sons of... Ughh... I hope they die tonight!” Lightning crashed after the selfish words
escaped his mouth.
************************

Wally, Jack, Randy, Billy, George, and Frank trotted though the thick, clinging mud. The mud, as if it were alive, grasped their feet every step they took. George, being the pudgy one of the group, slipped on the greasy grass and landed bottom-first into the mud. Everyone laughed and called him a goof. George got up with a look of dismay on his face.
Jack pulled out a beer and downed it. “There she is boys, Crystal Lake Cemetery,” hollered Wally.
Randy had a deep swallow, “Uhh, Wally?? I’m not too sure about this.. I’m leaving.”
Wally slapped Randy in the face, the cold rain made it smurt on Randy’s freckled cheeks. “Don’t act like that wuss Brent! Now, C’mon!”

Wally leaped over the rusty steel gate of the cemetery. George, was the last one to get in. Not being able to leap, or even hop for that matter just attempted to open the gate, but no luck. “I’ll just stay
out as a look out, Wally.”
Wally, assuring of the idea nodded to the stubborn fool.

The boys wandered around the dirty cemetery.. Then something caught Billy’s eyes.. “Jason Voorhees... Hey, boys.. Come take a looky here!”
Wally, leading the four teens, knelt down to brush away the cobwebs that clung to the tombstone. “Dig ‘er up.”
“WHAT!?” Screamed Frank in disbelief, “Are you crazy!!?”
Wally chuckled.. “No, I’m drunk you a**..”

Billy picked up a rust shovel that was lying around. He stuck it into the ground.. “You do it, Frank.”
Frank stared at him as if he had two heads, “No.. No way! No Digging for me!” Frank storms off
trying to exit over the gate. Pricking his finger on a sharp spike that came out of one of the poles, leaped down in pain.

About a half-hour later, the digging was finished.. The old rotted casket stank with morbidity..
Wally pried open the casket with the shovel, as the cover came off, everyone backed up in grotesque.
Jack, being not all that sober, puked all over Jason’s corpse. “EEEWW...” shouted Billy as he slapped Jack over the head; “Get outa here.”
Jack wondered off looking at more graves.

Wally leaped own and stared at the body. Jason, was wearing a torn jumpsuit with an old stained
Mustard Yellow jacket over it, and the signature hockey mask that was stuck to his face like glue.
Wally attempted to pull it off, but Jason awakened and grabbed Wally by the throat. Jason squeezed
hard, then harder. He tossed Wally away from him and stood up and stared at the stupid teens.

Jason grabbed Wally and impaled him on a spike of the gate. Frank tried to jump over the gate, but
Jason pulled him to the soggy soil and reached his hand into his back. Suddenly, Blood squirted from Franks mouth as he ripped his spine from his body.
Jason grabbed the shovel and impaled the dull wooden end through Billy’s face. Jason pulled the bloody shovel from Billy’s face and stuck the blade of it through Randy’s stomach and turned it.
Randy had a rueful laugh as the pain circulated through his veins. Randy dies a slow, but painful death.

Jack, being fairly quick, leaps on Jason’s back. Jason circulates around the Cemetery looking for something to use to get the nuisance off his back. Jason Flips Jack over his back into his open casket.
Jason grabs his machete that layed on the bottom and sliced him in two! Jason turns around and spots George slowly sprinting away from the cemetery. Jason flung the machete at George, it went
straight through his left calf that took him to the ground, he wasn’t dead but in extreme pain.
Jason pried the gate open and stoped towards George who started to crawl away crying. Jason picked up his Machete and picked up George. He jammed it through the top of George’s head. Lighting
shot from the sky, attracted by the machete, sent electric currents through George’s body.

Jason took his Machete back and wandered off into the fog and mist.

************************

Brent’s thick tires made a splat sound over every thick, wet mud bump that the van drove over.
Brent, with a cigarette in his mouth, a cap on backwards, and a T-Shirt that read ‘Chuck Norris Is
My Homeboy’ cursed, thinking about the incident earlier that night. “**** them Mother F-!!”

Something catches Brent’s eyes. A lone man, walking down the muddy path.. An old man walking
in the cold hard falling rain.. He stoped by him and opens the doors. “Where you off to Stranger?”
asked Brent with a warm smile on his face. The old man, not even looking at Brent, just walks past.
“Stubborn Old Man,” thought Brent. He jumps out and grabs the man on the shoulder.. “Sir.. You hear me? I want to know if you want a ride!”
The old man took a deep breath and turned around. The man had grey thin hair that hang over the back of his head, a beard of stubble covering over his mouth, a crooked pointy nose that seemed to
be broken, and one eye. “Sir.. I-!?”

The Old man stank of rotten fish. He cut off Brent; “ I know you City folk. Always caring for the old man who walks alone.. You know, just leave me alone.”
He trotted off. “What happened to your eye?” asked Brent in curiosity.

The man turned around with a frown, not a sad one, but more serious. “I’mma Tell you something that you can’t tell anybody. There is a little story about these ‘ere parts, sonny.. Crystal Lake..” The
man signs and continues, “A young boy, Jason Voorhees, drowned in the lake of the camp.. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his death.. His birthday.. Well, The boy ain’t dead. He comes to life. No one knows how, no one knows why.. All I can say is I was a victim until I hacked the bugger in the back of he’s head! Lost me eye for it, but I ain’t dead like everyone else in these parts, sonny... Oh, yeah.. He’d keep coming back.. No way to stop him. He’ll just come back over and over again! You hear me sonny? Again and Again!! Now you get out of these parts until That ol’ Jason comes to get you!!”

After hearing the wicked tale, Brent obeyed the old man and turned around and headed on home.
But off in the distance, Jason peered at the van speed down the path. The blood glistened on his machete as he headed to Camp Crystal Lake. [/font]