My black converse slapped against the forest floor in a fast paced rhythm. My breathing came out in heavy, strangled gasps.

The shrubbery and over hanging branches cut at my face, arms and legs. Faster. I need to go faster.

The sign saying "Welcome to Crystal Lake whipped past my vision as I ran deeper into the woods. I could hear their shouts coming nearer, the light from their flashlights illuminating my back. "Getting tired yet, you little emo FREAK!" "You can't keep running forever, why dont you just give up, FREAK SHOW?" Their words hurt almost as much as the branches that kept attacking my face.

I felt tears gather in my eyes as I continued to push my way through the branches. "I'll rope the little freak, guys!" Something caught my foot, forcing me to fall over, I threw my hands in front of my face to protect it. The wet soil made my cuts sting.

I glanced down at my feet, my left foot was ensnared in the rope. "CAUGHT IT!" Came the triumphant cry from behind me. My chest rose and fell with the labor of my breathing. They ran over and circled around me, blocking any way of escape and tying my hands together.

I looked up helplessly. One with cruel blue eyes took a burlap sack from his pocket and shoved it over my face. "We don't want to look at your ugly face while we beat you."

I closed my eyes, ready for the downpour of pain. The first blow was to the side of my face, cutting my lip open. The next was to my rib cage. The rest seemed to catch on, because soon every inch of my body was exploding in pain.

"Stop, please stop." I whimpered. I just received a blow that seemed to be from an aluminum baseball bat, which sent me keeling over. I felt the wetness of the ground seep through the bag. Or was that blood?

They continued to hit me, laughing at any display of hurt. I grew weary of this and held in my cries. They only hit me harder. I wished for someone, ANYONE to come save me from this. I could care less if it was the Crystal Lake Killer himself.

The rain of beatings stopped abruptly. I let out a shaky sigh of relief.

The bag was slowly pulled off my face. I recoiled as it revealed my bruised, cut and dirty face.

I stared at the floor, I saw a large pair of booted feet, connected to long, heavily muscled legs. A gloved hand slowly forced my gaze upwards, to meet their eyes.

These eyes just happened to be gazing intently at me, from behind a hockey mask. Jason Voorhees. Jason Voorhees just saved my life. And was being gentle... wtf?

"Why the hell are you helping this fucking freak?" I turned my head to see the blue eyed boy from before, staring at us in horror, a gash in his chest bleeding freely. Jason stood and took a baseball bat from the floor and walked over to him.

He pulled back and hit the boy's head like a baseball, lopping it completely off and sending it flying.

I looked around the area. Every single one of my abusors lay on the floor, dead. I held back the bile in the back of my throat. All of them were horribly mutilated, certain limbs twisting off in unnatural positions.

I clasped my hand to my mouth in horror. I looked back at Jason to find him looking at me, walking towards where I lay on the forest floor, tied in place. My heart raced in my chest in fear. He pulled a small dagger from his torn jacket and roughly grabbed my hands. He slipped the blade between my tightly bound wrists.

I flinched against the cold metal against my skin, in the hands of a killer. He pulled up, a quick, jerky movement, cutting the rope and freeing my hands.

He untangled the rope around my feet. I sat on the floor, rubbing my wrists where the rope left burns. He forcibly grabbed my elbows and jerked me upright. I stood there, in shock. I owed my life to a serial killer.

I softly touched his mask before the edges of my vision got all hazy and I felt my knees give out.

The last thing I remembered was being caught before I hit the ground.