Ch. 10 –

His girl was hurt. That was what Jason saw the young brunette as. He had felt different about her from the start, but at the sight of her, running away from the people she had known and trusted, had just strengthened his resolve to keep her by his side. But now she was badly injured, and worst of all by a trap the he had set himself. A long sigh wracked his big body as he approached his girl, but his steps slowed as he caught the faint sounds of crying. He saw her curled on the bed, legs against her chest and her face buried against her knees. She looked so… lonely. So pitiful by herself on the big worn mattress. Suddenly he realized that Kryssi reminded him of himself, back before he'd drowned in the lake. She even… sort of resembled him. But somehow, the scars that marred her body only added to her strange, unique beauty.

The big man took a slow step forward, announcing his presence as he accidentally knocked over a rusty metal coffee can. Kryssi's head snapped up at the sound, and her tear-bright eyes locked with his. But her next reaction puzzled Jason. Most people either cringed away at the sight of him, screamed, cried, so on and so forth, or before, in Kryssi's case, just watched on warily; but this time her skin flushed a deep, nearly crimson red and she dropped her gaze to stare at a small patch of skin showing through a hole in her jeans. Well, his jeans, but they had been too small for him for quite a while now, and her own clothes had been covered in dirt and blood. He had thought it was a good idea, giving her those clothes. He didn't need them anymore. But the flush of embarrassment seeped down the strong curve of her slender neck, and she fiddled with a loose string, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," she finally mumbled after a few more silent moments, glancing quickly at him and pushing a stray lock of drying brown hair behind her ear.

Slowly Jason approached her, not even realizing what he was doing until his hand reached out, almost of its own accord, and rested atop her head, his fingers twining into the soft tresses. Suddenly he realized that he wanted Kryssi to like him; to accept him for what he was. But he also knew that it would probably never happen, and his hand fell back to his side. She still hadn't seen him without the protection of his mask, and he was afraid that if she ever did, she too, like everyone else, would run in fear, disgust, and revulsion... With a small sigh he turned to leave, but before he had disappeared from her sight, her tentative, quiet voice broke the silence.

"I… I don't want to go back to them," she murmured, her brow furrowing as she again remembered what Dylan had done to her and the look in Miranda's eyes. She had no one to go to. She had lived alone for a while now. Her gaze lifted, meeting his pleadingly, and even a little hopeful. Her voice was stronger as she continued, "I want to stay here…"

Adam and Beth were alone, sitting around the dying campfire and wondering where the others had gone.

"You don't think they got hurt, do you?" the little black-haired girl intoned quietly, looking around at the surrounding trees. Her wide, innocent brown eyes brimmed with worry and Adam scooted closer to wrap his arm comfortingly around her small shoulders.

"I'm sure they're all just fine," he assured her with a gentle smile. "They're probably waiting to scare us right now."

He laughed at his joke and winked at the younger girl. "Maybe we should go and scare them first," he suggested.

"Maybe," Beth agreed reluctantly, scanning the trees again. She wasn't too fond of the dark. Then she followed Adam as he rose to his feet and headed off towards the cabins.

They walked in silence, skirting around one of the dilapidated buildings and approaching the parked cars. Adam placed a finger to his lips and smirked at Beth before sneaking up to the back bumper of his car and suddenly leaping out, yelling at the top of his lungs.

But quickly that playful yell turned into a horrified scream, and he staggered backwards.

"What is it?" Beth yelped, scampering to his side. But at the sight she found she gagged viciously and buried her face into Adam's chest.

"Oh my God," the taller boy choked out as he stared in shock at the corpses before him. "Drew..."

"Miranda!" Beth sobbed as she clung to Adam's torso. He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and tried to tear his eyes away from the carnage. But when he finally did, he let out a gasp. Jason loomed before them, dark eyes blazing and weapon drawn. Acting on instinct, Adam shoved Beth out of the way, behind Dylan's pickup, and sacrificed himself to the murdurer's blade. The little black-haired girl whimpered as she scrambled beneath the vehicle, cringing when she splashed through a slick pool of hot blood, and dragged herself to her feet on the other side. She didn't look back to see if the man was following her, but ran for dear life towards the lake, taking a flying leap off the end of the rickety wooden pier and splashing into the grimy water.

The big man did follow her, but stopped in his tracks just before the toes of his boots hit the rotten wood. Memories of his death and the torture he endured before that fateful incident raced through his mind, and he gave a violent shudder before turning and leaving the smallest girl to the mercy of the watery gravesite, vowing to come back for her if the black depths didn't take her first. As he walked Kryssi came to the forefront of his thoughts, and his pace unconciously quickened. He had no idea why he was feeling these things over a girl that he should have killed at the first available oppoutunity, and yet he couldn't help the tightening in his chest at the thought of being in her presence again. The final girl, Brooke, could wait.

What would Mother think? he fretted to himself as he came upon one of the markers to his underground residence. The decrepit bus lay on its side in the overgrown forest foliage, and the big man hauled himself up and through the gaping door as he circled endlessly around his answerless thoughts. What was it about the teen that caused this riot in him? He had never even considered the thought of allowing an intruder to live, and much less live with him! But as he continued on towards the girl in question, he couldn't help but imagine what it might be like if she were to stay, and with that a little seed of curiosity was planted deep within him, refusing to be reasoned with or thrust away.

Minutes later he approached the bend, his chest growing tighter notch by notch as he rounded the corner, and saw his girl sprawled across the mattress, deep asleep. Her silky brunette hair fell haphazardly across her shoulders and scarred cheek, fluttering lazily with her every exhale, and the big man slowly approached her svelte form, lowering himself to the ground beside her. That little seed had him itching to be close to her, and he wasn't one to pass up a good oppourtunity, even though that had usually applied to killing someone. Slowly he reached out to brush away the stray locks, his touch heasitant, and not five seconds passed before he got one of the biggest shocks of his life.

Kryssi gave a startled cry as fingers brushed against the raised scars on her cheek and shot up off the bed, instinctively striking out with her fist and connecting with the hard line of Jason's jaw. The big man reared back in surprise, his fingers snapping around her wrist just before she would've hit him again, and blinked quickly to clear his dizzied vision. The teen had a good right hook.

"Oh crap!" the brunette yelped as she realized what she'd done. "I'm so sorry!"

She reached out as if to take his face between her hands, but flinched away at the last second like she expected him to reprimand her. Jason was a little hurt, realizing that he didn't want her to fear him at all, and with a nonchalant shrug he rubbed the knuckles of his free hand against his sore jaw before rising to his feet and brushing her sleep-tousled hair away from her cheek. This time she sat still and let his fingers wander almost reverently over the scars, and didn't try and pull her wrist free from his relaxed grip. Then he tapped her marred skin lightly and met her gaze with a questioning look.

"You want to know what happened?" she clarified. When he nodded she sighed heavily and looked away as she gingerly pulled her captured hand from his own calloused one.

"It's a long story," she mumbled as she toyed idly with the edge of the blanket stretched across her legs and shifted to sit cross-legged on the makeshift bed, being careful of her injury. In reply he lowered himself to the ground and mirrored her posture, his machete sticking out at an odd angle from the holster on his hip. She couldn't help but laugh softly at the almost comical picture before her. Then she sighed once more and shoved her fingers through her hair, pausing to gather her thoughts. He waited patiently.

"My mom wasn't the nicest person," she began heasitantly. Their gazes connected, and she saw confusion growing in the dark depths. "Not everyone's mom was as nice or protective like yours was," she pointed out. But before she could continue with the story she was interrupted by a loud jingling. The bells! she gasped internally.

In an instant Jason was on his feet and rushing off in one fluid movement, leaving Kryssi behind trying to figure out how he'd moved so fast. Seconds later she scrambled off the bed, whimpering as she tried to put weight on her left leg, but it wouldn't take it so she looked around desperately for something to lean on. There was no way she was gonna sit here all by herself wondering what was happening on the surface, wether those people were her friends or not. Then she caught sight of a dirty wooden crutch and half-hobbled, half-crawled over to it and used it to limp as fast as she could after Jason. At her back the bell continued to tinkle ominously.