The sound of the gun was the only thing that registered in Jason's mind before the bullet crashed through the plastic of his mask and into his skull

The sound of the gun was the only thing that registered in Jason's mind before the bullet crashed through the plastic of his mask and into his skull. The behemoth fell to the ground, the weight of his colossal frame cracking the floorboards and shaking the cabin. The familiar, though very unwelcome, feeling of slipping away from himself overtook Jason and his body stilled all movement, heart juddering to a halt...

Laurie bit her lip as she stared down at the killer's corpse, gun slipping from her shaking hands and falling to the floor, the noise of the impact seeming ten times louder in the resounding silence. A low moan of discontent fell from her bleeding lips as she dropped to her knees. Tears poured down over her pale cheeks.

The silence was deafening. Shock and an unfamiliar sense of loss skittered through Michael's mind and body, his eyes wide and unfocussed behind the darkened holes of the mask. Fingers clung to the carving knife like a child to a security blanket, as if the weapon grounded him somehow. He stared down at the body of his lover and the empty feeling grew, a dark fungus infecting his already corrupted soul. Michael gazed at his younger sister, utter fury flashing through his mind.

She had to DIE.

Laurie barely registered her psychotic brother approach, carefully stepping around the Camp Lake killer. It wasn't until she heard the tell-tale sound of his deep breathing from behind the white latex that she looked up. Their eyes met. His brown irises bore into her soul. They were filled with anger, and pain. Her voice cracked, "M-Michael..."
He reached down and hefted her up by the scruff of her neck, still staring into her tear-stained face. Laurie couldn't struggle, her sense of fight was gone, her energy spent, all she could do was tremble as he pulled back his arm. The knife glinted in the pale moonlight and she screamed as it flashed down towards her.

He remained there silently; watching her twitching, bleeding form as she slowly succumbed to her death. Gently he stroked the side of her soft face and her wispy hair as she choked on the blood welling up in her throat. When she finally struggled to draw her last breath and stilled, her eyes dimly staring at the ceiling, he stopped touching her. She was still beautiful.

The sudden noise of a shifting object drew his attention and he glanced behind him. Jason was pushing himself off the ground, now completely coated in the blood that had gushed from his head wound. Michael felt himself gasping happily as the behemoth trudged slowly over to him. Coyly taking the grubby hand that was offered to him, he allowed the taller male to drag him to his feet. Tenderly the small killer stroked the other's face before leaning in towards him to nuzzle his masked visage with his own.

Jason wrapped his arms around Michael and they approached the door of the cabin, stepping out into the night. Stepping into the unknown.

The End.