Slax had been walking for a good fifteen minutes, and the only thing even remotely interesting that he found was the decaying body of a dead deer. After a couple minutes of poking at it with a long stick, he figured enough was enough and moved on.

‘Fuck this,’ he thought to himself as he circled back around toward the horseshoe of cabins. ‘It’s time for a J-break.’

Surprisingly, he hadn’t wandered off too far, because before he knew it, he was back in the main camping area.

“Hey, anyone here yet?” he asked, but got no response.

In a way, he was glad that none of his friends had returned yet. That meant he didn’t have to share his doobie.

He made his way to the first cabin he saw, which happened to be cabin 7. As he opened the door with a nasty creak, he noticed a metal bunk bed tossed over in the corner, along with a dusty old mattress. Laughing, Slax went over and kicked it for no reason, and a rat darted out from underneath the rotted shell of what was once a bed.

“Welcome to fucking paradise,” he muttered.

He looked out the broken window as a gust of wind picked up outside. Nightfall was quickly approaching, and a cold chill blew up against the window.

Realizing he didn’t have much time before everyone else got back, he reached into the inside pocket of his black fleece jacket and pulled out a dime bag. Sighing, he sat down on a pile of old leaves that had accumulated inside the cabin and took out a small pocketknife. He then cut open a Philly blunt and replaced the tobacco with hash.

Soon after, a small glow of orange lit up the rapidly-darkening cabin as Slax took his first hit off of the blunt. After just one puff, all his worries went away. All of a sudden, he felt good again. That first hit is always the sweetest, Slax thought as he stared at his blunt with a smile. He then took another draw. And another. Slax felt absolutely great then, as he slowly took hit after hit of the blunt until there was just a little stub left of the stogie.

But then, when he went to stand up, he staggered a bit, and his vision began to blur. Slax got really dizzy and the room began to spin as he flopped back down on the floor under the window. He didn’t even notice the evil Jason Voorhees staring back in at him, with malice hidden behind the pale uncertainty of the white hockey mask.

Then everything went black.


“Yo, man, what the fuck?” Slax mumbled as he staggered to his feet. He had passed out a good 10 minutes from his little J-break, and had absolutely no idea where he was.

Still dizzy, he looked around the room, which was strangely lit by an orange glow. ‘Who turned on the lights?’ Slax thought as he followed the glow. But as he looked at it, the deep, rotted smell of burnt wood pierced his nostrils, and a foggy haze had set in inside the cabin. He gagged as the smell of the room became too much to handle. Then he looked down and saw the source. His blunt. He had never extinguished it, and it had caught his pile of leaves on fire, which then quickly spread around the rest of the cabin.

“Oh, fuck!” Slax yelled, doing the stop, drop and roll technique to extinguish the little bit of the blaze that had caught on his jeans.

He then somehow got to his feet and stumbled toward the door, but in a flash, Jason Voorhees came bursting in through the door, sending Slax sprawling backward.

“Holy shit!” Slax screamed with a cough, holding his shirt up to his mouth to try to block the smoke from entering his lungs.

In the meantime, Jason slowly stalked his prey, luminated by the eerie glow of the fire. For a moment, Slax was able to stare into Jason’s good eye, and see the face of pure evil glaring back at him.

Slax then ran to the opposite end of the cabin and tried to get out, but the fire blocked his exit. He looked at Jason, then at the cracked window, and then back at Jason again. In a mad dash, Slax tried to make it to the window to climb out, but that’s when Jason struck. He launched a knife into the air and connected with deadly accuracy in Slax’s back.

Coughing and grimacing in pain, Slax fell to the ground with a thud as Jason moved in closer. Still trying to escape, Slax got up and busted the window open with his bare hand, causing blood to squirt everywhere off of his hand. But, just when he grabbed the window pane and tried to pull himself up, Jason grabbed him and launched him into the far corner of the cabin, where the flames awaited, seemingly eager to gobble him up.

Screaming in intense agony as the fire tore away at his flesh, Slax charged Jason and tackled him into the wall of the cabin. The tackle had little affect on Jason, who grabbed the smoldering Slax and dragged him back toward the flames. This time, there would be no mistake. Jason held Slax right up to the fire until his entire body was set ablaze, and Slax shouted in pain as his life slowly slipped away.

Jason didn’t flinch, even when some of the flames found their way onto his arm. He just stared down at Slax and tilted his head to one side, pulling his knife out of Slax’s back. Jason then mercilessly tossed his body up against the wall and back into the flames. He then slowly stalked out of the cabin as the fire slowly began to spread up the opposite wall.

Proceed To Chapter 22
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