Part 2 of the Scream For Me series
Episode 3-To Hell
Jaaaaassssooooonnnn, I want soup. Michael thought miserably, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. The other silent killer rolled his eyes and ignored Myers' request.
No, because I still don't understand how you got sick.
I was playing. Michael thought innocently. Jason gave him a suspicious look.
Yeah, in the rain. Jason let out a hopeless sigh and went to heat up some chicken noodle soup. After doing so he went and presented it to Michael, who looked at it and turned up his nose. No…make me tomato soup. You know I don't like chicken noodle!
You've always eaten it before!
But today I want tomato soup…or a coffee from Starbucks.
Jason narrowed his eyes at the younger killer and threw the soup onto Michael's lap. You'll have chicken noodle and like it!
Oww! It's hot! He flew back in his chair and fell backwards, sending the broth and noodles everywhere. Off a ways away in the kitchen, Mrs. Voorhees watched the two with a smile on her face. She went over to her son and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
"Now Jason, what have I told you about roughhousing in the kitchen?"
He asked for it, mom. He said, shrugging off his mother's concern. She chuckled and went back over to the stove.
"I'll make him some lovely tomato soup."
Thanks mam. Michael thought, trying to wipe the still hot soup off of his pants. Jason saw this and shook his head at the other killer.
You're pitiful, Myers.
And you're an asshole, Voorhees.
He scoffed at Michael's stupid statement. You mean 'Are too,' not 'is too'.
"Boys, boys!" Mrs. Voorhees broke in, giving them both sharp looks. "If you're going to roughhouse some more, then go outside!"
Jason slumped his shoulders. He loved his mother, but he hated being treated like a little kid. Mom, I'm not ten years old anymore; I don't 'roughhouse'. I'm an adult.
She ignored this and said, already refocused on her cooking, "Ah yes, that's nice dear, now go play outside with Mikey."
Unwilling to talk to the delusional woman further, the two made their way outside. As it turned out, this new life didn't quite suit Freddy and Ghostface. Normally the two killers could make mayhem in the old apartments, but now they were left to sit all day in a cabin without air conditioning to entertain themselves. Often this lead to acts of reckless abandon which included throwing rocks at some of the more dangerous animals in the forest, catching wild rabbits and attempting to skin them alive, and setting spare cabins on fire. Pretty much nothing was off limits, especially if it would ensure Jason trouble. It just so happened that on this particular day they were busy trying to set fire to Michael and Jason's cabin.
Jason saw this and rushed over to them. He immediately seized the matches that Freddy was holding and glared at him. What the hell is your problem?!
Ghostface whined as his lighter fluid was taken away by Michael. "We're boooooored!"
"And since we obviously can't set our own shit on fire, we decided to smoke your stuff." Freddy explained, glaring at Jason. "Now give me my fucking matches back, asshole!"
No, Jason thought, passing the matches onto Michael, who was struggling to keep Ghostface away from him, absolutely not! If you're bored then why don't you focus your energy on making our home better? Ghostface and Freddy glanced at each other. The silent killer saw this and arched a brow under his mask. What's with the looks?
"This stupid place isn't our home," Ghostface said sullenly. "Our home was an apartment back in San Antonio."
Michael heard this and rolled his eyes. But we all hated that stupid place! It was cramped and it had a weird smell.
"But it was home!" Ghostface protested. Freddy crossed his arms over his chest like a stubborn child.
"Fuck this place; it's just as horrible, and now we have crazy Mrs. Voorhees to worry about." Jason sighed.
If you two want to act like children, then go time-out!
They both laughed at this and exclaimed, "Time-out?!"
Michael also questioned Jason's intentions. Time-out? Jason, we're not two-year-olds...you can't put us in time-out. We're grown-ups.
Then start acting like it! he thought angrily, throwing the matches down on the ground. Everyone stopped their snickering and gave him confused looks.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Ghostface asked indignantly.
Jason scoffed. It means that for the past few years I've been trying to keep us together for...for I don't know what! Now that we're finally doing okay, you're trying to ruin everything! If you don't want to be here, then fuck off and take care of your stupid, incompetent selves! With those last words, he stormed off to do whatever it was our Jason Voorhees does when he's mad. Michael didn't even bother to go after him, either. Unknown to everyone else, he still had the button and spirit of one certain stuffed bear nestled carefully in his pocket. So instead of going after the person who was once his best friend, he went off by himself, not after retrieving a few matches that Jason had dropped on the ground.
Freddy and Ghostface also parted ways for a while, Freddy saying that he had some innocent forest animals to find and slaughter. Ghostface just went out to the docks and lazed around like always, making long-distance calls that he'd demand Jason pay for later. It seemed as though everyone, despite being more secure than ever, was falling apart.
Dinner that night was an awkward affair. Mrs. Voorhees had made one of her usual wholesome, delicious meals, but only three people were served. Freddy watched as Jason, Myers, and Mrs. Voorhees dug into their food. He gave Ghostface an infuriated look and let out an angry hiss. "This is exactly what the fuck I was talking about earlier!" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air.
Mrs. Voorhees gave him a deadly look from across the table. "Be quiet this instant! You're ruining your dinner!"
From his chair Ghostface let out a little scoff. "Dinner? What dinner? I don't see any dinner." Jason narrowed his eyes at the talking killer. This made Ghostface sigh and say, "Whatever. I'm too tired to argue anyways."
"Fuck that!" Freddy howled. He thought of a way to get back at Jason and his annoying mother, and came up with an old solution that had worked in the past. He launched himself over the dinner table, knocking over plates and forks and cups full of lord knew what, and let out an insane yell. "REMATCH!" By this, of course, we know that he was referring to the rivalry he had developed years ago prior to living with Jason-after a long battle with the hulking killer of Camp Crystal Lake, Kruger had beaten Jason mercilessly...or at least, that's what his delusional mind chose to believe. In reality, as we all know, Jason had beaten him senseless. Now, however, as Freddy attempted to rekindle this old rivalry, he was thrown back by Jason and sent flying across the room easily.
Rematch my ass! Jason thought, rolling his eyes. Freddy jumped up and attempted to tackle the bigger killer, and began stabbing him with his claws. Ghostface, of course, laughed and tried to join in annoyingly. This lead to all three of the killers staggering around the kitchen breaking dishes, denting knives, and splintering chairs. Mrs. Voorhees immediately jumped up and attempted to stop the senseless idiocy, but of course she was silenced as Freddy threw a pot at her head. It hit her squarely in the head, and knocked her out cold. Jason saw this and his eyes grew wide.
"Haaaa! Bitch learned her lesson!" Freddy announced, laughing insanely. Ghostface nodded.
"Heh, yeah, fuck her!"
This sent Jason into a rage. He threw himself at the two of them and thought in a blind fury, You want a fucking rematch?! I'll kill you!
Ghostface grew scared and dodged behind a chair. "I-I never said anything about a rematch."
Well you're getting one anyway!
The three killers began wrestling each other to the ground. Michael was the only one left in the room who did nothing. He sat there, dazed, and watched them. In all honesty, Myers hadn't been feeling like his old, childish self lately. Ever since the destruction of his bear days ago, he'd sometimes change his personality completely. He no longer poked his nose into everyone else's business anymore; he stayed secluded in the woods mostly, torturing small woodland animals. When he wasn't sticking sharp twigs into the eyes of innocent squirrels, he was staring into space, his dark, evil eyes glazed over. As the other three killers began tumbling haphazardly around the room, he just sighed and rested his head on his hand. This didn't go unnoticed by Jason, who paused his fit and peered over at him, his eyes full of concern.
Hey, you okay, Mike?
My name's Michael, you idiot! Michael thought irritably, rising to his feet. Ghostface instantly calmed down and went over to the youngest killer.
"Hey, what's with the tone, Myers? He just asked if-"
I'm fine, you idiots! What does it matter, anyway? We hate each other, so why does it matter how I feel? I don't care how any of you feel. Myers thought, pushing Ghostface away angrily. Freddy laughed at this as if it were some kind of act the young slasher was putting on for attention.
"Look," he said to everyone, "Myers is having a bitch fit."
Fuck you. Michael thought coolly, turning and walking towards the door. Fuck all of you.
After Michael's after dinner rage fit, it was decided unanimously-meaning that Freddy yelled until everyone gave in-that Jason was to go after the youngest member of their group and try to, as Kruger so delicately put it, 'fix him before his ass gets kicked'. So after cleaning up the kitchen, or what remained of it, and putting his dear mother to bed, Jason set out to find Michael. He first checked what he knew to Michael's favorite spot in the whole camp-a little spot right by the lake. Not finding him there, he went to the cabin they shared. There he found Myers sitting on his bed, shoulders slumped, staring off into space dully. Catiously he went over to the younger killer; there was something in Michael's eyes that was off. He wasn't right, Jason could tell.
Hey, so about that little temper tantrum you threw...don't do it again.
Michael blinked a few times, seeming to snap back to reality, and glanced over at Jason. What are you talking about? I didn't do anything.
Uh... Jason paused, unsure of how to proceed. Seeing that Myers seemed genuinely confused, he went over to him and asked, trying to sound casual, Mike-you don't mind if I call you that, right?
Michael shrugged. I dunno, guess not. Why would I?
Umm... Although something was definitely off with the younger killer, Jason had no clue what it was. All he knew was that his old, childish Michael was back, and this put his mind at ease. Voorhees let out a labored sigh and sat down next to Michael. His head fell into his hands and he closed his eyes. Things had been stressful for him lately. Between making a clean transition from the apartment, he'd nearly forgotten about ensuring his own sanity. Michael seemed to sense how tense his best friend was, because in a moment he was hesitantly scooting closer to him, his dark eyes shining with admiration for the greater, bigger killer.
Can I... he made an obscure motion with his hands, one that puzzled the other killer. Knowing that he didn't understand, Michael sighed and without permission, fell onto Jason and wrapped his arms around him. He gave Jason a hug and smiled under his mask. Take me to Starbucks tomorrow?
Even though Jason had no clue what was going on, he knew that he didn't want it to stop. He pulled Michael into a tight, bone-crushing hug and patted his back. We won't ever talk about this to Freddy or Ghostface, alright?
Okay...but why not? Ghostface does this to me all the time. Plus he touches my butt and whispers weird things to me, and-
Just stop talking, okay?
The next day Jason awoke early and went to pull the covers off of Michael and take him on his promised trip to Starbucks, but found his bed empty. Jason frowned and looked around the cabin, only to find himself alone...like always. And, like usual, he was deeply depressed by this...
It amazed Michael at how Jason, as smart as his once best friend was, wasn't more suspicious as to how the younger killer had managed to get a cold in the beginning of summer. As it turned out, Myers had gone out into a rain storm nights ago to retrieve a part of Bear, and that's what had delivered to him the cold. Now he sat on a stump in the middle of the Crystal Lake forest, staring at the matches that he held in his hand and smiling a little under his mask. He reached for the button in his pocket.
Bear, I'm bored. What do I do?
The voice of Bear spoke to him in his head quietly. If your bored then let's play a game.
I love games!
Bear gave him a soft, reproachful chuckle. I know, Michael. I know.
What's this game called?
It's called, Bear whispered, wildfire.
Freddy marched thru the forest, crunching over rotting leaves and twigs, kicking up piles of dirt. He mumbled under his breath about how horrible everything was there, especially the food that Mrs. Voorhees cooked...that was, if he and Ghostface even got to eat it. Normally they'd end up rooting thru the left overs of dinner at midnight after making sure that Jason's temperamental mother was sleeping. Michael was also being babied, and that annoyed Freddy to the core of his tainted soul; if there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was babies.
Now as he trudged on, he caught sight of a rather obese looking blackbird. A crooked smile came upon his burnt face and he gave chase to it, jumping after it and waving his claws around to attempt to mutilate the bird. He came upon a strange sight, though. There, sitting on a mildewed stump in a small clearing, amidst tangled branches and brown leaves, was Michael, playing with matches. Freddy instantly stopped and ducked down. "What is that stupid fuck doing out here?" he mumbled as he carefully snuck closer.
He heard Michael thinking to himself, Wildfire? I want to win that game...how do I do it? there was a silent pause, in which it seemed as though Myers was waiting for some invisible answer to make itself clear. After this there came his careful, dazed thoughts of, Okay, I can do that, Bear.
Freddy, confused as he was, thought that Myers was just talking to some imaginary friend. After all, the kid was completely insane; the thought that he had imaginary friends wasn't so odd. That's why he only made a move when he saw Michael strike the match against the ground. It lit up instantly, its flame a hungry orange. Freddy let out a loud gasp, and just as he staggered back fearfully, Myers dropped the match. The whole clearing went up in flames, devouring the skinny form of Myers.
Jason sat alone in the kitchen staring at a ham and cheese sandwich. His mother hovered nearby, chattering away happily. It was now, as Jason stared out of the window and saw the quiet emptiness of the camp, that he became totally sad. What was this faint feeling that he had held onto for so long? Why was he always drawn back here, to this Hell? Camp Crystal Lake was the little piece of his soul tied off from the rest of the world; it never changed, always stayed the same-solitary, tortuous. He felt a heavy feeling of dread come over him as he laid his head down on the table next to his sandwich. Mrs. Voorhees noticed this and stopped her talking.
"Jason, are you alright? You look sick, dear. Why don't you-"
Why did I come back here? he thought sorrowfully, his dark eyes darting over to the window. The once blue sky was now full of grey clouds. It was as if the world was, as always, mocking him and his sorrow. Mrs. Voorhees gave him a confused look. She went over to her son and pointed to his food.
"Dear, you need to eat."
...What? he thought dully, sitting up suddenly. He met his caring mother's gaze and saw emptiness in them. For the first time he seemed to understand...in his mother's eyes there wasn't love or affection. There was only empty madness, as if she still saw her young, ten-year-old son staring back at her-Jason realized that the only thing he recognized in his dear mother's deadened gaze was delusion.
"Eat, dear, so you can grow up to be strong and-"
Mom, I'm a grown man. he thought, slowly standing up. And I'm not hungry.
She laughed at this as if he was a small child making a joke. "Now Jason, mother knows best, doesn't she?"
No! he suddenly lashed out, throwing the chair he'd been sitting in against the wall. It shattered. His mother stared at him, struggling to find any kind of reason why her beloved son had done that. Jason sighed and shook his head. He tried to think of something grand and mature to say to his beloved mother, but could only find the guts to turn and walk out of the kitchen. Just before reaching the door, a thought came to him. He turned to her and thought, I'll be getting my stuff together tonight. I'll leave early tomorrow. Don't bother to make me breakfast.
And as Jason walked out of the kitchen and into the humidity of the outside, he felt very proud of himself. No longer was he a pitiful mother's boy. He was now a fully independent man. Before he could even have time to savor this revelation, Freddy came running over to him, breathing hard. Jason didn't have time to listen to him, though. He pushed him aside easily and kept walking over to his cabin.
"Hockeypuck, you've gotta listen to me!"
Why? You've never listened to me. he thought, walking on. Freddy trailed after him, desperately waving his arms around, trying to get his attention.
"But it's Myers-he's fucking insane! Set the whole damn forest on fire!"
Jason rolled his eyes, but just as he was about to think something really mean to say, he glanced up at the sky and noticed the grey clouds again. It was only now that he realized that what he once believed to be clouds were actually billowing pillars of dark smoke. His eyes grew wide as he looked over and saw the far off forest engulfed in flames. His mind immediately grasped the severity of what Freddy had said-Michael was in trouble. I'm going to go get him! as he went to run off, Freddy caught him and pulled him back.
"You don't get it-he started it on purpose!"
What?! Why would he want to do that?
"He wants to kill us!"
Ghostface laid back on the dock and closed his eyes. Things hadn't been right since they'd moved; even though he was a complete idiot, he knew that their whole group had been splintering apart for a while. Now, he decided, he'd get kicked out first. Often it was the geniuses who suffered the most, like himself. He sighed and took a deep breath. It was then that he smelled smoke. It overtook him, burned his nostrils and make him choke. He sat up, looking around for some explanation. Off a distance away he noticed the smoldering evergreens, the ash that fluttered in the sky. He jumped to his feet and turned to find Jason, but froze when he saw Mrs. Voorhees walking towards him.
Ghostface chuckled awkwardly and gave her a halfhearted wave. "H-Hey, Mrs. V."
She looked totally murderous. Tears were running down her face as she neared him. "You...you're the reason!"
Ghostface took a few steps back, growing nervous. When any woman approached him with the words 'you're the reason', he generally tended to shy away. "Mrs. V., what are you talking about? Calm down...p-please?"
"You're the reason that my Jason is leaving! You're the reason that he hates me!" she shrieked. Ghostface rolled his eyes.
"You're really gonna blame me for that? I didn't even know he wanted to leave, so don't-"
Before he could finish his sentence, she lunged at him, and they both flew into the lake.
Jaaaaassssooooonnnn, I want soup...
No, because I still don't understand how you got sick.
I was playing.
Yeah, in the rain.
...In the rain...
Michael stood in smoldering forest, motionless, watching as the flames crept steadily nearer to him. He recalled the conversation he'd had earlier with Jason and sighed. He should've just played along, he thought sadly, kicking a burning branch away distractedly. He stood there pouting and thought, It would've been so much easier if he would've played along with me and Bear.
Good, Bear's voice said to him as the flames drew steadily closer, you've almost won the game.
Almost? But I set everything on fire. You said that if I did that then I'd win.
No, there's one last rule.
Michael grew skeptical as he stared down at the button that held Bears' spirit. You're cheating.
I'm not cheating, Michael; now do you want to hear the last rule?
If you want to win the game...
Just before Bear could finish his explination, Michael felt himself being pulled away from the intense heat of the fire. He heard a low, pained grumbling and looked over to notice that Jason was pulling him out of the fire. Flames licked at the bigger killer, burning his dead, grey flesh as he attempted to save Michael. What the hell were you thinking, Myers?!
Why did you start this?
He grew silent and brought his attention back to Bear. What do I do?
Jason heard this thought and became puzzled. He didn't stop, though; he carried Michael thru the fire and flames to what he hoped was safety, but it was hard to tell where he'd come from. His lungs were filling with ash and smoke, his skin was burning. All he knew was that he'd kick Myers' ass for this later. Suddenly he felt Michael pull away from him. Jason stopped and turned to him, tried to pick him up again, but was rejected. The younger killer's black eyes were full of malice as he withdrew a knife.
If I want to win, Michael thought, then I have to take you with me.
What? Michael, stop playing! This isn't a game, we're about to die! Jason thought, And I don't mean 'die' die, like when we get stabbed or shot and just get back up, I mean 'get sent to Hell' die! He made a move to grab the younger killer's wrist. Michael violently rejected this and pushed Jason to the ground. He then climbed on top of him and pinned him down, his eyes full of an insane kind of childish glee.
I want to win, Jason. I need to win...
Not knowing what else to do, Freddy found an old, rusted pot in the kitchen and proceeded to walk out to the lake with intents of filling it up with water and throwing on the fire. Although this wouldn't do any good, he believed that he knew fire very well having been burned by it so many times, and he felt as though he'd be the hero of the day. As he made his way over to the murky lake, something caught his attention. There, floating in the middle of the lake like some kind of forgotten debris, was the body of Mrs. Voorhees. Confused, Freddy looked around. Ghostface was sitting on the dock, knife in hand, breathing hard.
"Hey, Fuckface." Kruger said as he walked up to him, not even bothering to ask him what had happened. He didn't care much, anyway; he just gave the other killer a sharp slap at the back of the head and laughed. Ghostface flinched like always and whined.
"Ow...Freeeedddyyyy! Imma tell Jason on you!"
"Don't bother. He's not here." Kruger said as he sat down on the dock and threw the pot into the lake. He watched as it sank quickly to the bottom. Being a complete idiot, he'd forgotten what he'd actually set out to do. Why had he been holding that heavy thing anyway? And why was the forest beyond the lake smoking like that? Suddenly he jumped up and remembered. "Oh shit, Jason's in trouble!" and he began laughing madly. "Ha! Hockeypuck is finally gonna get what he deserves!"
Ghostface chose to ignore the other killer's annoying rambling. He fingered the knife he was holding and asked, "Where's Myers?"
Freddy pointed over to the burning forest. The fire had now crept over to the cabins and was quickly demolishing them. Since Freddy was deathly afraid of fire-though he would never openly admit it under pain of death-he punched Ghostface in the ribs and snapped, "Hey, go clean our shit out of our cabin before it burns."
"Umm...what about Jason and Michael's cabin?"
"What about it?"
Ghostface sighed and rose up. He thrust the knife he was holding into Freddy's chest and said, smiling cleverly under his mask, "Hold this; I'll be right back." and he walked off to go salvage their belongings before the fire took it all.
Many things have changed for the Last Flowerchild...time keeps getting away from me and I'm sorry once again. I'd like to thank everyone whose kept up with this series and is still with me. I appreciate it and thanks for sticking along for the ride. Of course there's a little more to come. I've planned a bit further in advance, and I'll get down those ideas and post them as soon as I can. Until then, reviews still make my day believe it or not, as do personal messages if you don't feel like posting a public review. Yes, I do read every one of them. :) Also, if you don't like the small bit of JasonxMichael slash I put in here and there, be sure to mention it. I want to know and take into account everyone's opinions.