Ok I own nothing and no one not even the oc this whole this was done by queenofthelooneybin and all she owns is Ava


Summer, 2005

The young man came into the general store in the early hours of the morning. He was about 18, the age of all the kids that seemed to come up here to die. Old Fred stood behind the counter, waiting for the usual question. They all wanted to know about Jason. Very few asked about the other one. Her legend was less known, since only one had escaped her. Old Fred had seen her a few times, walking the woods with the man,

"Hello," the young man said in a soft voice.

"Hi there," Old Fred said. "What can I help you with?"

"What can you tell me about the summer of 1992?" the young man surprised Old Fred. No one asked about that summer, although it was important.

"Sure," Old Fred said. "A gang of kids went up to the lake. They must have found Camp Blood and got killed. Happens all the time."

"But one body was never recovered," the young man said and took out a picture of a girl. "Do you remember her?"

Old Fred took the picture and went back into his mental files. This girl was in there, a shimmering image of her holding a can of Coke and a candy bar. The calendar behind her said 1992.

"Yep, she came up here in 1992, with some friends. They were driving one of those VW buses."

"Cal Owen's van, never found," the young man muttered. Old Fred shot him an odd look. "Please continue."

"The article I read in the paper said their names were Cal, Julie, Mario and Leslie. At least the ones they found. They never did give the name of the last one."

"Ava. Her name was Ava."

"Yep. I met her, back then."


Summer, 1992

The summer sun hit Ava violently full in the face. She stumbled out of the van, blinking like crazy. There was nothing to filter the sun in the general store parking lot. The others were already inside. Ava had been sleeping in the back of the van during most of the trip.

They were going up to Crystal Lake for a week, to camp out and just be together. That summer was the summer between high school and college for the group. In the fall, they would be going to colleges far away from each other. Cal and Julie were going to NYU, Mario to UMD, Leslie to UCLA and Ava to Vassar. Four of the five had been a gang since kindergarten. Ava's mother had married Julie's father when they were eleven, and that was why Ava was in their group. That was the only reason. Ava was a bit…different, and not in the usual way. But, even with her issue, the six of them got along. The sixth, Jack Bundy, wasn't with them. He was at a family reunion and would be joining the rest the next day.

Inside the general store, it was cool. The ancient looking AC unit was working well, and Ava sighed. It was likely this would be the most comfortable she would be for the next week. This was her first camping trip and she was a bit scared. Everyone in the county knew what kept happening. Dead teenagers and Ava fit into the category. It didn't help that she was the weak link of the group. Serial killers liked to pick off the weak ones first.

Suddenly, Julie popped up in front of her, signing if she wanted anything. Ava glared at her and gestured to her cochlear. It was brand new, a graduation present from her father. It hurt that he had waited this long for something she should have gotten years ago. Julie had gotten a computer. Ava had gotten her hearing.

Julie's kindness irked Ava at times. She could function just fine. She wasn't paralyzed or retarded, no disrespect to those who were, but Julie treated her like she was. Ava grabbed a coke and a milky way and went up to the counter. A man stood at the register. He was old enough to be her father, yet he was staring at her.

"One fifty," he said and Ava handed him two crumpled singles. "Where are you kids headed?"

"Crystal Lake," Ava stammered, her hands raised to sign it. The man looked surprised. He must have met many of the lake's ill-fated victims.

"Do you know the story?" the man asked. Ava nodded. Like many kids in the area, she had grown up on stories of Jason and the 1980 massacre. By the time the stories reached her, they had taken on an urban legend quality. But, the basics were clear. Teenagers kept getting killed. The man gave her a brief, non-sexual once over. Something flickered in his eyes. Pity. In his mind, Ava was already dead.


That afternoon, as the sun began to dip from its high point, Jason heard a car. It was bad, the music and chatter of its occupants washing over the famed killer. They were going to die. It was simple that way.

Four of them got out at once. Like so many of Jason's past victims, they were good looking in a bland way. The girls were pretty in the way that sent his mother into a rage. The boys were strong looking, but none would be a match for his machete.

The bad kids began to set up camp. The boys put up tents and dug a fire pit. The girls stood around and smiled a lot. His mother called them dirty sluts. But she wasn't telling him to kill them, to wait until dark. Just as he was about to leave, a fifth came out of the van.

When he saw her, Mother didn't scream. In fact, she was quiet. Jason studied her. While the other girls were blond, this girl had dark hair, the color of a crow's feathers. Her jeans were cut at mid-thigh, revealing pale legs that resembled a young tree branch. Her gray t-shirt looked soft. Jason took a step forward and Mother began to yell.

Don't touch that one. She's a good girl. She's special like you! Do not touch her Jason! She's the only good girl.

So Jason did nothing but watch. After a few minutes, he moved a bit closer to get a better look. Mother let him do that. The girl began to walk around, her hands fluttering, fiddling with her ear before she put them in her pockets. Jason watched her get closer. She didn't seem to hear anything. Not his heavy breathing or the sounds of her friends asking, and then demanding her return. She kept getting closer and there were no signs of fear. Usually they sensed him and ran. Not this girl. She even looked right at the tree he stepped behind.

"Fuck!" one of the bad girls yelled. "Turn up your fucking hearing aid. We have been calling you for ages!" She grabbed the good girl's arm and jerked her away, hurting her. Jason saw it in her face. He watched, knowing that bad girl would die first.