Welcome, everyone, to one of my newest stories! As I said in the summary, this one stars the survivors from the F13 movies teaming up to battle Jason. Part of it also deals with an alternate universe where Tommy and Tina face a world where Jason is in control.

I really hope you like this story. Reviews are very appreciated. If you want me to return the favor, I will.

Jason Voorhees is a name that sparks terror into new humans every day. He is a legend raised right up there with Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster. However, unlike those creature stories, this monster is far too real. Throughout the years, he has put a bloody end to many teenage lives who have wandered onto his domain. Who they are has never made a difference to him: only that they are worthless and must be punished.

Few have seen Jason and lived to tell the tale. And even those who have could not keep Jason down for long. He has only been put to sleep: never truly dead. Those survivors comprise only 1% of the people Jason has encountered, but they definitely have made up for their small ratio.

Ginny Field, Chris Higgins, and Trish Jarvis all battled the killer during his human state. Tina Shepard and Rennie Wickham had the horrific honor of facing Jason when he become an indestructible zombie. And Tommy Jarvis, Jason's number one nemesis, was unique in that he experienced Jason's wrath more than once.

With their own special abilities, whether it be of the mind or soul, they had done the extremely unlikely of stopping Jason in his tracks. Though he had risen again to torture a new batch of humans, their survival was still buried in Jason's psyche. For many years, it churned and boiled. One day soon, though, their defiling of him would not go unpunished. Whether it was Ginny or Rennie, the survivors were about to face their one common nemesis for a final standoff.

Tommy Jarvis crouched down low in the bushes: his mind alert, his body taut. His stone-hard gaze scanned every inch of the trees ahead. He maintained the composure of a skilled hunter thirsty for blood. However, the blood he sought was neither human nor animal.

Ever so stealthy, he dashed to the next hidden location: a group of rocks on the shore of a stream. But the moving water made no sound of a trickle. It remained silent like the focused form of Tommy. The only movement he made was to reposition his fingers on the weapon he held: a 22 gauge, sawed-off shotgun. The gun packed power that could blow a hole in flesh the size of a human head.

And Tommy needed all the power he could. Deep inside, however, he wondered if even this weapon would be strong enough against the force he faced. For he had experience with this evil to know what it was made of.

Like a ready soldier, he poked his head forth from the rocks. And was met with a machete rushing down just inches from his head. Tommy jumped backwards, catapulting himself off the pile, and kicked the blade from his attacker.

He hurled himself around and lifted the shotgun at the one whom he had been hunting: Jason Voorhees. Seven feet tall and bulging with power, Jason picked up the machete and rose to meet his nemesis. Such hatred burned beneath that white hockey mask.

Tommy's face scrunched up into reciprocal feelings. He held his gun securely and fired a hole into Jason's chest. Dark flesh exploded into pieces, including some of the tissue that was part of his heart. But that only infuriated Jason even more.

He began to rush towards Tommy, his blade prepared to shed enemy blood. Tommy somersaulted away from the monster and fired more rounds. They all blew off flesh, but none succeeded to stop Jason.

The two rivals faced each other: hatred so strong it could overwhelm the brightest sky. Jason would be more pleased to destroy Tommy Jarvis than any other human. This was because Tommy had grown up into a strong-bodied adult, reminding the killer of how Jarvis had escaped his wrath: not once, but twice.

Tommy whipped out a grenade from the belt at his waist. Jason knocked it away from him just as fast as he had gotten it out. Voorhees struck a blow to Tommy and stared blankly as he fell to the ground.

Tommy was about to use his roll to leap to his feet. He took out another grenade so he could unleash it at Jason's head. At the same time, Jason started to lash the weapon down at his enemy. Both were ready to deliver the final blows.

"Go to Hell, you bastard," Tommy cried out.

His cry faded away into blinding white light. Tommy's vision darkened, while he felt himself falling farther and farther away. He was swallowed up into blackness, leaving Jason to ponder furiously where his nemesis had gone.

Tommy sat up in his bed, face sweating so profusely; it was like he had actually lived the dream. Each heavy breath felt like it would be his last. Tommy looked urgently around before discovering that his most hated nemesis wasn't here.

And the location was a bunkroom that was part of an army training camp. Tommy had been fighting in the Army for a few years now as a way to unleash his anger in a more appropriate way. Ever since his fights with Jason, Tommy found it difficult to maintain a peaceful personality. Jason would forever leave a deep scar on Tommy's soul.

But instead of turning to Jason's dark side, which Tommy had to admit he had thought of more than a few times, he used that inner rage to benefit humanity. And the Army was a perfect place to do so.

Now, Tommy was involved in a new training course to better his skills. Along for the ride was a newbie to the Army, Jamie Hawes. But he was not a newbie to Tommy's life. Jamie was his good friend, being the only one to stick around during the worst of times. Besides that, the two shared a link over the death of Allen Hawes by Tommy's own hated Jason Voorhees. Allen was Jamie's older brother and Tommy's companion at the psychiatric hospital.

Jamie was sleeping restfully in the bunk above Tommy's tortured form: unaware that Tommy had dreamt about fighting Jason more than a few times this week. Jarvis pondered why he had started getting these nightmares when he hadn't for so long. The last one had been nearly a month after Tommy had chained Jason in the depths of the lake. Then Tommy hadn't hesitated to take off and leave the town's memories behind him.

He finally relaxed enough to stop sweating, even though the images remained. Was fate giving him these dreams after many years for a reason? Tommy got up and walked to the bathroom to wash his face. He was determined to find out what was going on.

Many miles from the Army training base was a beautiful, homey building tucked away in a woodsy valley. The exterior was made of creamy brick with a spacious, paved parking lot ending just before the trees began. The building rose up as three floors to overlook the rolling landscape.

This was the Serenity Valley Hospital: a psychiatric facility for teens and young adults. It was nestled quite far from the business of society, so its patients could have the focused care they needed without interruption.

Behind the hospital's walls, its head nurse walked hurriedly down the polished, wooden floor. She always walked with such a quick pace because time was important in the patients' lives. Whatever minute could be used to understand someone's mental status, she took it. She held such compassion for she was quite familiar with the labels of being an outcast: of possessing such a troubled and confused mind that she didn't know where to turn.

She stopped at a particular patient's door. The head nurse cared for all with psychological problems dearly, but this one really drew her in. The two had marked similarities, even though the nurse did not confide in the patient as to the details.

She poked her head into the teenager's room. The girl immediately sat up on her bed and smiled. Her slender hands were clasped together in her lap. Her eyes flashed as golden as the head nurse's hair.

"Hello, Gabriella," the nurse said in a voice that would be deemed as quieter than most.

But that never bothered Gabriella Stevenson.

"Hello, Ms. Shepard," she greeted the woman. "How are you?"