Immense dread overtook six-year-old Nadine's body as she gently rocked back and forth on her wooden swing. Her long, brown hair hung limply down her back. Her innocent, hazel eyes stared straight ahead.

It seemed to be a peaceful, May night. The wind blew soothing sensations all around, and the crickets sang their bedtime melody.

But little Nadine Valentine knew that the approaching summer would not bring any joy to her. She felt something deep within the trembling confines of her terrified heart. This was going to be one of those nights when her mother would be working late at the hospital and would not come back until it was all over. Little did she know that she wasn't the only one out there that had that sense gripping them.

A presence was watching her with curiosity from somewhere in the dark woods that stretched behind the little girl's house. Nadine might have had a feeling that she had a visitor, but there was no fear in that at all. It was like they shared a connection even though they had not met yet.

Instead, Nadine's fear was all directed at her stepfather striding across the backyard towards her. He had nicely groomed, blond hair and a posture that would make every gentleman proud. He carried that alluring essence which could lead one easily straight into a trap. He stopped in front of Nadine and gave her an expression upon his smooth face that looked to be caring. He patted Nadine on the head. A hidden darkness inside him froze the girl in her swing. Naive though she was, this little girl knew that it was all just an act. She shivered at the thought of what was about to come next.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said in that fake, fatherly voice of his. "It's kind of late to be out here swinging, isn't it?"

Nadine just sat there, silent, secretly wishing that the darkness engulfed her and took her away from the impending torture.

He reached out and pulled her off the swing. Nadine's heat began pounding heavily, joining the rhythm of the heartbeat somewhere behind her as if they were one. He grasped her hand and began leading her towards their two-story oak wood house.

"Come on, let's go to bed," he told her.

When he said for them to go to bed, he didn't mean in separate beds or even that she was supposed to go to sleep. Nadine began whimpering softly and tried to persuade him to change his plans.

"I'm really tired tonight," she said with a pleading tone. "Can't I just go to sleep?"

By now, they were heading for the staircase. Her stepfather merely chuckled at her plea as if it were a joke.

"If you can stay up until 10:00 swinging, how tired can you be? Besides, I haven't shown my love for you in a long time."

He clearly emphasized on the word love. Nadine's breath caught in her throat. But luck was in store for this bundle of innocence.

Before the night was over, her stepfather would never be able to hurt her again.

He placed Nadine down on her bed and stared at her with that twisted desire of his burning in his soul. She wasn't his real daughter after all, and he felt that he had to give her the love she deserved.

The room was nearly pitch black, but he had done this so many times that he could do it in his sleep. Nadine just froze there like a timid rabbit, knowing that she could never stop him.

He sat down beside her and began caressing her head, her shoulders, and then a little further down underneath her nightgown, where children should never be touched.

Nadine was sobbing inside. She hated the sharp coldness of this man's hands upon her chest. But her stepfather had complete control, and he couldn't care less what she was feeling.

"Calm down, dear, you know you like it," he said cruelly.

He was just moments away from going even further. A movement resounded in the hallway. It sounded heavy and very determined.

Nadine heard the footsteps and stared at the door in response. Even though she was crying, a part of her was saying that she wouldn't have to endure this much longer. Her stepfather was too engulfed in his perverted actions to hear anything or even care if Nadine had faded out to something else.

The deep footsteps stopped right outside the door. The little girl's terror over this experience gradually started to fade.

The door did not just swing quietly open. Instead, it was torn from its hinges and thrown aside like a tiny piece of scrap wood.

What appeared in the doorway was the hand that would be responsible for the stepfather's demise.

Nadine stared in surprise at the over six-foot-tall greatly built figure that stood before her. He wore ragged clothes and a hockey mask that covered the front of his blackened head.

Unknown to the two, this was Jason Voorhees. He towered in front of them, an embodiment of the storm of vengeance.

Nadine could feel his heavy drawn breaths and sensed that his was the heartbeat that had been sounding as he watched over her outside.

Her stepfather by now had whipped himself towards this forceful intruder. But he refused to take his hand from Nadine's special place. A rage emanated from within Jason at this bastard. This man was one of the many that defiled the innocence of children.

The children were, after all, a deep portion of Jason's soul.

Everything that happened next was rapid, but seemed to progress in slow motion. Jason stomped purposefully toward Nadine's stepfather. He coldly burned his gaze of hatred into the man's shocked form. The stepfather yanked his hand away from Nadine and struggled to pull himself away along the bed, but Jason had already seen enough. He reached out with one powerful hand and grabbed the man by the arm, holding it in a bone crushing grip.

For a brief moment, Jason turned his head toward little Nadine. A comfort shone in his eye to tell her that everything would be all right now. The young girl remained there and didn't appear frightened at all, as if sensing what he was telling her.

Her stepfather screamed as Jason dragged him along the floor out into the hall. His arm was already shattered by Jason's hold on it.

When they were out of the room and out of view of Nadine, Jason held the stepfather high in the air by the neck. He wanted to stare into the terrified face of the man who had molested this little girl ever since she was three.

The man squirmed with little avail. Jason bashed his fist through the man's ribcage and right out the other side. Jason held the victim's warm, bloody heart on its exit. Blood gushed out of the stepfather's mouth and chest. A majority of it spurted onto Jason's mask and front.

Not one trace of emotion sparked from Jason.

No mercy! No mercy! screamed a voice inside him.

Jason was not satisfied with just ripping out his heart. He hated this man so much and felt like he deserved even worse. The heart still beating in his palm, Jason crushed it, squeezing and squeezing, until there was nothing left but blood and a few remaining traces of arteries. The blood vessels resembled strings of red coated spaghetti.

He dropped the few remains onto the floor and yanked his hand out of the gaping hole in the stepfather's chest. The lifeless molester toppled down and lay on the floor sprawled out like a grotesque dummy.

Jason's glare of fury still did not cease. He began stomping the body violently with his foot. He crushed and dug into the flesh, beating this man into oblivion. Blood sprayed everywhere like a fountain and the cracking of bone pierced the air.

Make sure he's dead! Kill him! Kill him! the voice continued to order.

Jason's heart pounded uncontrollably. The killer did not stop until Nadine's stepfather was nothing more than a pile of mush consisting of pools of blood, shattered bones, and flattened organs. If the molester had realized the wrongfulness of his actions, it was now too late.

Jason then let forth a sigh of satisfaction and headed toward the bedroom doorway to see Nadine.

Pieces of organ tissue and blood were caked into his boot, but he knew that they were come off on their own eventually.

Nadine had sat frozen on the bed while Jason was slaughtering her stepfather. The horrific death throes shaking the house certainly were frightening her. But, shockingly for such a small child, she was secretly happy. She occasionally brushed off her slender shoulders to try and get rid of her stepfather's violating touch.

Nadine took in tiny shuddering breaths, while listening to Jason heroically saving her from her tormentor forever. She whimpered only a tiny bit when the noises stopped, and Jason reappeared in the doorway. She saw a new gaze upon him, one of sympathy and tenderness. She cocked her head with wonder at her savior and almost smiled when he tilted his head too. The two exchanged glances for what seemed to be a long time.

Nadine had never seen this powerful revenge seeker before, but his spirit had always existed inside her heart. Every time she had groaned and cried during her stepfather's cold-hearted groping, she had been unconsciously wanting justice.

Jason wouldn't have minded staying there for awhile, but he knew that he had to go. His task of vengeance was never finished.

Nadine watched as he quickly ran his gaze over her to make certain she was okay. Jason then strode away, disappearing into the night. The young girl picked up her stuffed cat for continued serenity. She slowly got up from the bed and walked to the window, waiting for her mother's return.