Friday the 13th

by Nemesis_RR

Summary:

June 13th

Each year didn't change a thing, he was the symbol of bad luck since birth, so, why would this year be different? Especially after being stuck in a place he didn't know, with people unknown to him. Things are worse for Jason today considering that it's not only his birthday, but also the infamous date for every horror movie fan: Friday the 13th.

Notes:

Eyyyyy! Noticed this year's June 13th is on Friday, you know what that means! Please forgive my grammar, as I'm not a native english speaker, I'm using Google Docs to try and get everything right.
Also, used leet speak, but worry not! I wrote the text normally on parenthesis beside it!

The wood of the dock creaked as the children walked on it, all of their feet fast-paced, just like his heart at the moment. He wasn’t alone — many children were surrounding, pushing and punching him — but he felt alone, his only friend in that awful camp was his mother, and she was far from there, far from where his cries could be heard. It all happened too fast, hands pushed him from the edge towards the cold water. He was never a good swimmer, no, he wasn’t a swimmer at all. He kicked and flailed, desperate not to drown, screaming for help. Maybe the other kids heard — but none of them moved, none of them cared, why would they? After all, every time they approached him, it was only to mock his appearance or cause him pain. The water suddenly started pulling him down, it stopped his attempts to get out, his breath, and then his heartbeat. And, just like nothing happened, the lake returned to its normality, no movement on the water, no yells, just peace. He was left alone, left to die for the first time of many.

 

Jason woke up, his hand gripping the worn-out arm rest of the couch. If he were alive, he’d be drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding to escape his chest, but his ribcage no longer had working organs, such a vivid reaction wasn’t possible for him. He got up from the couch. Why had he slept there again? Oh yeah, yesterday — if you could call the cycle of eternal moons days— the round was too tiring to get to his own room. Well, the furniture that was supposed to be his bed wasn’t even great enough to rest anyways. Not that he needed to rest before, but after arriving at this new place the masked killer started to get the feeling of fatigue after running and killing his victims. Jason dragged himself towards the cabin’s door, apparently it was late, well, it was always late on that purgatory, but the dusted clock’s hand pointed to a higher number than the one usually agreed by the killers as the “noon”, or the time the routine of slaughtering began. Well, at least it wasn’t his turn yet, so he could do some hunting to both clear his mind and ensure the others have food for later.

 

This round’s killer is….

Jason

 

And just like that, the strange voice of the one trapping him in there was calling for him to action. He wished to be able to stab, no, kill it so he could be left alone, but the person stopping him from doing so was his mother, who instead encouraged him to track down and end the survivor’s lives. He appeared in the accorded ground for the macabre hunt, from the others, he knew it was called “Ultimate Assassin Grounds”, an unfitting name considering none of them had access to the area unless it was for the round, nonetheless, once the timer started he felt the thrill of his chase start. This time was different from the others, however,  Jason could feel himself different from the other times.

 

When he started to look out for survivors, the first he found was the scaredy cat of the group, the one they called Noob. They seemed very focussed on finishing the generator to notice him approaching. Taking advantage of their distraction, Jason closed the distance between the two of them quicker than he expected to and landed two hits with his machete and one with his chainsaw against the robloxian’s chest, ending the cold-blooded combo with a kick to their body. Unexpectedly, the slasher actually killed them without a need for another attack. Strange. Considering that his blows were now weaker in the realm he was in it shouldn’t have happened that quick. Maybe The Spectre — how the other prisoners of this place called the master of the purgatory — finally was starting to lose grip of him, if it was the case, then it was just a matter of time for him to leave the goddamn woods he was confined in.

 

The hunt continued, he didn’t run though, because even if he was apparently faster, it got him tired in a shorter time than usual, so he decided to do what he did better: lurk from the shadows and prey on them like a predator would do to its food. Jason walked towards the great building of the map from the rocky side to try and stay undetected. He overheard a group of people in the distance, so he approached slowly with his trustworthy machete ready to cut off the first survivor’s throat the second they came across him. 

 

“Of all days Jason is the killer it HAS to be today?” A voice stopped him, none of the killers had an actual clue of the day it was. John Doe was out of the ones to question as he seemed to be out of his mind almost any hour, c00lkidd couldn’t even tell the hour from the old clock, 1x1x1x1 used to be in the 4th dimension without a clue of the date, same with Jason and Area 51. So the possibility of knowing at least something real from all the illusion of the realm couldn't be wasted. Getting a little closer from the inside of the building to the open wall of it, he could tell it was the gambler, definitely not his favorite survivor –read: Jason despised him with his whole existence– but eavesdropping was going to give him the information he wanted, so he had no choice.

 

“What? Are we really in June? Wasn't the title of the movie because, coincidentally, it landed on a Friday?” Two words he didn't like in the same discussion, this time he recognized the voice as the pizza healer of the opposing team. Both of them seemed to have noticed the presence of the killer and tried to run away, as apparently Chance was on a bad luck streak. But Jason grabbed the weakened sentinel with the gun from his suit and landed a successful attack against his shoulder, leaving behind a big injury that left the clavicle exposed along with flesh and blood. He hit a second time this time against his neck, beheading the gambler to end his life. The support got away, but the death of the gambler added 30 minutes he could use to his advantage, along with the little he could pick up from the conversation and infer by his own, he had now an idea of why today felt different from the other days.

 

June 13th

 

Each year didn't change a thing, he was the symbol of bad luck since birth, so, why would this year be different? Especially after being stuck in a place he didn't know, with people unknown to him. Things are worse for Jason today considering that it's not only his birthday, but also the infamous date for every horror movie fan: Friday the 13th. 

 

It was the day his father became more abusive against his mother because she gave birth to a monster, a deformed sack of flesh and bones that he couldn’t call a son, something he was sure came from a hell hole. She killed him to protect him saying his father was now far from them and couldn’t harm them anymore. But Jason could remember each beating session, he could recall all the times his progenitor would make his mother scream. In all honesty, he couldn’t care if he was away, missing or dead. How could you miss someone who refused to be called your dad and whose memories with you were pure hatred against your existence?

 

After his first death, Jason wandered for years in the forest, looking for his mother. He couldn’t recall how he made it out of the lake, but one thing was sure: he needed to come back to his mom, to let her know he was well. As he continued his search, he heard the rumors from the residents of Crystal Lake that June 13th was a day of bad luck since “the incident”, clearly they referred to his drowning, but why was his birthday, a day a child was expected to celebrate, a day everyone else needed to avoid? Of course he didn't want to believe it was real, that bad luck was all he got to people around him. But apparently they were right, because it was a June 13th on which his mother died, decapitated by a teenager by the side of the same lake Jason died on. Once the killer got away, he cried like never before, his mother; the only person that loved him despite everything he bringed to her life, the one who was still looking for him even after all this years, the only person he could trust; was killed on his birthday, just as years ago her expectancy of having a normal peaceful life with her son.

 

The first time life showed some sympathy towards him was when it let his mother still guide him in the form of a voice inside his head. Jason missed having her alive, being able to hug her or be able to lay on her lap, so she would sing him a lullaby. But he would make them remember, continuing his mother's tradition of killing everyone who got on his path. Well, just morally black or gray people who got on his path, after all, his mother raised no heartless villain. Time flew within each of his grand massacres, each time with more experience than the one before, anything for his mother. But it ended when the government trapped him in that strange laboratory. There, he lost any sense of time, so his birthday became a useless thing to try to remember, considering the top priority of everyone there was to escape or kill the intruders of their new home.

 

Then this realm took him in, he knew nobody and yet everybody knew him. He was “Jason from Friday the 13th movies”, apparently someone got on tape his killings or they were made recreating them. The idea of his life being known by every horror fan was annoying, he never cared to tell anything about him to others because he didn't want them to feel sorry about him or try to sympathize with his suffering. Jason wasn't an object for pity, he chose what he did on his experiences, but didn't blame all on them. He was a victim who didn't want to be seen as that, and the anonymity of the silence, of the unknown mess he was inside, gave him that option. But the existence of filming re-telling his backstory took that away from him, so he would force it back by being the same ruthless killer the films depicted and even worse. Then again, the unwanted biography of his life made everyone— not only Crystal Lake residents — aware of the meaning behind June 13th, or at least a Friday 13th. Unluckily for him, both of them landed that day.

 

Or well, maybe it wasn't that bad, because of the increase in his strength he could kill them all before the time ran out. And so, he set off again to the bloodshed guided by his mother. He tracked down the nearest survivor, that being Elliot, who was heading to the cave system part of the map. Taking advantage of his new speed, he quickly caught up with him, chasing through the cave until meeting the black lake. The pizza guy started to walk on the woods above the lake, while Jason froze, not this again . He wasn’t afraid of the water, he convinced himself of that, it couldn’t do anything to him now, not anymore . He stepped on the planks above the black liquid and resumed his hunting, with careful yet quick steps, each producing a creaking sound, just like old times . The soldier of the group seemed to notice the situation his teammate was in, quickly stepping in and delivering a punch straight to the slasher’s head. He was pushed back by the impact, tripping from the planks and falling again to the lake, face first.

 

The liquid only reached to his knees, he wouldn’t drown, not again . But it quickly got into his mouth and dead lungs from the holes of his hockey mask, and it caused him to cough it back, not that it would do anything, but it was to get it out of him, to not let it fill his lungs again . Jason stared at his reflection on the dark lake, looking directly into his eyes through the mask. It was the same stare he would see on his victims when he cornered them, similar to that of an animal caught on the road, identical to the one he sure had on his face when the kids pushed him to the lake of the camp, it was fear . Why was he afraid? He wasn’t supposed to be afraid, he was the one who caused fear on the others. Why? If the only real danger in that place was him, the liquid no longer represented a threat towards him, and the survivors were not able to kill him unless they were grouped.

 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

 

He could hear his mother's voice distant, as well as any sound surrounding him. After what seemed to him like an eternity, he entered what he could only describe as an automatic mode. Jason stood up from the lake and chased the survivors, first Guest 1337, then the healer, then the sword wielder, then another, another, another, another… Meanwhile, he was absent minded, each kill didn’t fill him with thrill or anything, he wasn’t even doing it for his mother, he just did what he knew to do without thinking. He was running around, landing fatal blows to each of his prey in any grotesque way his body knew. Was he doing it because he was mad? Because it was Friday June 13th? Because the stunning triggered a memory? Because his mother told him? Because he didn’t want to be stuck in there? Each answer would be correct, it was just a matter of choosing which one he preferred to use as explanation to his behavior that day.

 

It wasn’t until the last survivor met their fate that he became aware of his surroundings. Jason was now back at the cabin, with blood staining his weapons and clothing. He walked to his designated room, hoping that he could be left alone for the rest of the day. Not that he hated the other killers he was trapped with — he had to endure years of living with more crazed people back in Area 51— but he wasn't in the mood for talking with any of them. Instead, he was surprised when he entered his room to find c00lkidd inside it, seemingly hiding something behind him.

 

“M1573R J450N! 1 54w 7h3 94m3 0n 7h3 7V! Y0u d1d 4 9r347 j08 pu771n6 3v3ry0n3 2 5133p!” (MISTER JASON! I saw the game on the TV! You did a great job putting everyone to sleep!) The kid spoke with his usual weird accent, he could understand him, but never got quite used to it. Jason did a greeting gesture, now not sure of how to tell him he wanted to be alone for today. He just didn’t have the guts to tell him to leave, it was a child after all.

 

“S0, 1 w45 w47ch1n9 1t 4nd 1 h34rd 0n3 0f 7h3m 54y 70d4y 17 w45 Fr1d4y 137h! 1 d0n7 kn0w 4 l07 4 107 4b0u7 m0v135, 8u7 15n7 7h47 7h3 0n3 y0u c0m3 fr0m?”(So, I was watching it and I heard one of them say today it was Friday 13th! I don't know a lot about movies, but isn’t that the one you come from?)  The unavoidable answer came, the slasher was considering lying to him, he could, as the kid wasn’t fully aware of his story before the realm or why it was considered his day. But, again, it went against his own moral code —which surprisingly to many he had— and probably c00lkidd didn’t know much of the films as they were for adults so he wouldn’t need to explain a lot. Jason nodded at the question, wishing that would be enough for him to leave. Never think a child’s curiosity can be satisfied that easily.

 

“1 kn3w 17! 51nc3 175 y0ur d4y 1 m4d3 s0m37h1n9 f0r y0u!” (I knew it! Since it's your day I made something for you!) He showed what he was hiding: a cardboard mask that looked just like his. Well, it was handmade so obviously some of the details were not made with the same precision of the real one he was using, but it was made as a gift for him. Aside from his mother's gifts when he was little, Jason hadn’t received one before. The gesture was very sweet. He could feel his long dead heart beat slightly with happiness.

 

“7RY 17! 1 c4n 7urn 4w4y 1f y0u w4n7!” (TRY IT! I can turn away if you want!) And he did, he was respectful, he’s gonna admit that. Carefully, Jason took off his mask and placed the gifted one on, tying the mask's thread around the nape of his neck. The inner part of the mask was a bit rough, but it seemed to fit well. He tipped the kid’s shoulder and he turned back to look, very excited. “D0 y0u l1k3 17?!” (Do you like it?!) Jason gave a thumbs up and it was enough to make c00lkidd jump in excitement.

 

“Y311!!!! 1m h4ppy that you l1k3d 17! H4ppy Fr1d4y 137h, M1573r J450n!” (YEII!!!! I’m happy that you liked it! Happy Friday 13th, Mister Jason!) And just like he arrived, he left quickly with some giggles. When he was gone, the slasher took off the crafted mask and looked at it for a moment. It was a long time since he was told to enjoy his special day, even if c00lkidd wasn’t aware of it, he just wished him a happy birthday.

 

Maybe, for the first time in many years, Jason could enjoy his day and take away the bad luck meaning behind it. He could try to enjoy it with these new weird people and be happy about another year passing.

Notes:

How is that for someone with no experience writing a fanfic? :D
Special thanks to my sister Kiru and my friend Vane for beta reading, you guys rock! 😭✨