Welcome back. I know the story hasn't been updated as fast as I said, but I can't always control when the best time is for me to write. Especially since I really want to put my own unique twist on the whole girl feeling a connection with Jason story. And as you'll be able to see, I'm not having her encounter Jason super fast, trying to build that whole epic moment up.

I do thank you for the reviews I've gotten so far, telling me to continue. So hopefully, as the story progresses, it will turn into one that will engage and entertain you.

I also am not sure what version of Jason I want to use for this story. I'm leaning towards a combination of 2 of the movies. First, the look from Part 7 showing how much he's been damaged. Because even if he is known to regenerate as stated in Jason X, I take it that he suffers battle wounds all the time from people fighting back, and as he heals from those, more injuries will come. That's my view on it. And he'll have the height and size of Freddy vs Jason except his expression for the most part will be intense and full of rage.

I don't want to give too much away, but I thought I'd give you a clearer likeness of which movie looks I'm utilizing. And the events from the movies are real in this story. The merchandise Diana collects was created to profit off the legend directly. If that makes sense.

I like to ramble, so I'll quit for now. Please enjoy this next chapter.

It was miles away from where Diana was lost in her dream. While she was safe so far within the realms of her fantasy, another girl wished she had never been brought into the harsh reality of Crystal Lake. This scantily clad female was now bolting for her very life. A thinly strapped shirt did little to hide her chest, while the lower half of her body only had underwear for coverage.

The abandoned cabins slowly dissipated from view the farther she ran. The distance would be obsolete. Once the girl had witnessed the slaughter of all her friends, like some hardcore slasher movie now all too factual, she could never wipe away the blood soaked bodies from her mind. The perpetrator had surfaced stealthily into their spree of usual teenage partying. It was hard to imagine based on his height and waves of unbelievable power. He literally had cut the free minded happiness short with slices of that machete, targeted at every ounce of life in those cabins.

He was the monster of this lake region, a legend that made all the other ones seem tame in comparison. She thought of his name instantly. Jason Voorhees. A name that would carry on through time like the very stars themselves.

The teenage girl's screams had blended into her boyfriend's own ones of languish. Jason set his machete aside for this kill, going straight for the boy's perfectly chiseled face with his bare hands. Cracking signaled his skull caving in like it was nothing under Jason's fingers, already sticky from the leftovers of the freshly slain. Blood sprayed upon the adjacent surfaces of the room, his facial features crumbling further, almost driven by an increased rage on Jason's part. Perhaps this fury was directed at his victim's appearance being classified as flawless compared to Jason's own deformed visage behind the mask. Her boyfriend was then tossed aside like garbage, and that was when she had finally taken the initiative to make her escape.

She continued to sprint for any source of freedom even now. A frantic voice inside her head told her that this was futile. The woods would be a labyrinth for all except for the monster pounding after her. Her ankles shot out every once in a while, sending her sprawling onto the hard ground. Crystal Lake was an unforgiving place, presenting humans with many obstacles to impede their leaving in one piece. She stumbled back up, shooting a quick glance behind her. The towering silhouette of Jason trudged on, where anything that could trip her up he crushed with ease. She felt that abhorrence burn from his eye all the way onto her flesh.

In seconds, a more physical degree of Jason's anger was upon her. She didn't know how he had caught up when she had been running for so long. An explanation was useless for her flesh literally felt his vengeance from the axe being buried in her spine. She was not aware that he had retrieved it before pursuing his prey. Or seen the glint of the axe blade that he carried at his side until it was too late.

The teenager could have experienced the scorching pain shooting outwards from the impact, if all nerve impulses hadn't been paralyzed. She fell limp to the ground, still alive, not able to respond except for some blood choked gasps crying out for any pity. All that relayed from the man looming over her was emptiness. There never was any sympathy. Some part of the monster considered delivering another blow, yet found it more satisfying to watch her slowly die from the damage to her spine. Her skimpy shirt was now ripped and immersed in blood, the substance of which Jason could never see enough. Several moments passed in the Crystal Lake night. Her death throes echoed like a lamenting melody all around. Only when she neared the brink of her passing, did this subside. The juggernaut did not move until he could no longer feel that essence of life pulsating from her.

His eye widened, denoting that lingering anger over her barely clothed body. Every curvature upon the teen girl left nothing to the imagination. Could that have been a partial reason why he had wanted her to suffer? His mother, Pamela, had been puritanical in a sense regarding her rampage. Did he share this motive with her along with his never ending desire to avenge her and himself? Or were the grisly demises of many sexual acts merely coincidence?

Whatever the case, Voorhees had never looked at female flesh with any sort of curiosity. He would only reduce them to bloody human remnants. Nothing more. He grasped her ankle with one huge hand and commenced to dragging her to her final destination. Whether her corpse would serve as a horrifying warning to the next intruders or to be lost forever among the storage of his lair, only Jason would know.

Henry Haruna sat in the dismally silent halls of Curtis Community College. Very few souls wandered around for the point in time was late evening in July. Any summer classes had ended for the day at least a couple of hours ago. The lack of witnesses, as Henry viewed it, was probably ideal for what was going on behind a particular classroom door. He kept a short distance, his pleasant personality not wanting to hear the voices full of ferocity.

He had been the ever loyal best friend that he was and agreed to show his moral support for Diana. One of his latest favors was being like an escort for her as she came to the college to meet up with this group she had been involved in. Henry had known, during the 8 years they had been friends, of Diana's longing to share her passion with others. Henry himself, even at his younger age, reflected a willingness to be there for what others would call her ramblings. And yet Diana Link needed a little more than that. As he continued to sit there, waiting, Henry Haruna wondered what kind of impact Diana expected to make. Despite his caring for her, he believed that any road in the Friday the 13th universe would only lead to disaster.

The door bolted open like a jolt to Henry's thoughts. He got to his feet very quickly, whipping his head, preparing to see Diana stand there fuming with a red hot rage. She was indeed there, though a little calmer than he had anticipated. Her indifference was almost eerie. The young woman slowly closed the door behind her with one hand, probably shutting off all ties with the group in that one simple movement.

She walked over to him, still quiet, picking up her jacket and slinging it over a shoulder. Henry finally brought himself to ask what had happened. She may have appeared unscathed, but disappointment lingered over her Emma Watson face. At least everyone else said that Diana looked like the actress. She didn't hold that view herself.

"They didn't take you back, did they? Why not? Didn't they understand?"

Diana gave off silence for several more moments. She began her walk down the college hallways towards the parking lot. Henry stayed by her side, glancing over his shoulder. Maybe one of those club members would come out of the room and call, "Wait!" as an effort to reconcile. No such luck there.

"You'd think there would be empathy for my feelings in a horror fan club. But nope. I'm too far gone even for them."

The friends passed one of the rare classes that had still been underway for this late part of the evening. The students brushed out one by one, their chatter being a combination about the assigned homework and, with more enthusiasm, about the fun taking place in their personal lives. There were glances from a few of the guys at Diana's well rounded good looks, like that of a princess. Diana ignored them as always. She had more important matters to stay focused on.

"They say they're a horror club, all fans are welcome. But maybe they should have put a sign on the door, specifying the limit of how much you can care about…your favorite."

She spoke the word favorite like it was demeaning to her preoccupation with Jason. And Hamtaro believed perhaps it was. Not that Diana took this in a conceited way; his friend was far from any haughty feelings. It was more about Jason, that he was an exception to all menial words such as favorite.

They exited from the college and proceeded down a path winding through a "naturesque" part of the campus. The air had some bite to it, a coolness unusual for a summer evening, but simultaneously common for the state in which they lived. Diana slipped on her jacket, her face still carrying that intensity of her rejection. She knew she would be enraged later, but for now, around Henry, she decided to cover it with a new topic. Or at least a new topic in the same area of interest.

"I had a dream I was in Crystal Lake last night," Diana spoke, a smile already inching its way forward at the thought.

Henry had stopped by Diana's red Mustang at the near edge of the parking lot. This was not the first time Diana had mentioned a Crystal Lake dream, and there would be many more following. He did thank God they were only dreams. He had seen the articles Diana had collected. He knew the violence was all too real.

"I was camping with Lorne, and I was aware that he was trying to get me to like him, but I wasn't responding. Then as reliable as he is, Jason came out and murdered him. Plunged his machete into Lorne and through a tree. Afterwards, he just stared at me…and left."

She began her usual mind drift, imagining those dark eyes scorching her soul, while the moon casted off his blood stained mask. He was…wow. Diana could never describe her standpoint in just one word. Still in her own world, she slipped behind the wheel, her brown hair mirroring a luster that couldn't be explained. Henry had already buckled up in the passenger seat.

"So, another very interesting dream. Too bad for poor Lorne. Probably something we shouldn't bring up to him."

Diana started the car's engine, eventually turning the car off of one of the college's driveways and in the direction of home. She held the wheel securely with her slender fingers. Her state of mind never interrupted her driving skills. In fact, her intense focus could overlap between multiple tasks.

"Yeah, it will just cause another conflict in the family. Lorne will freak out and tell the others how twisted my dreams are."

The girl slowly shook her head, her eyes distinguishing a movie theater coming up.

"What can you do? I can't stop it if Jason hates him."

Henry responded with a comment he had said too many times. He didn't even have to peer at her to say it. Those chocolate brown eyes of his kept their sights out the window.

"Well, Jason hates everybody. That's all he's capable of. Right?"

"Of course," Diana gave the most logical answer.

She reached over and pressed the button to start the CD player. One of the core songs to Friday the 13th fans, "His Eyes," by Pseudo Echo, filled the car's interior. The title Friday the 13th had been given to the fandom dating back to when Jason had created his very first bloodbath at the counselor training center. And even further back, to that fateful date where Pamela Voorhees had slaughtered a group of counselors trying to open up the camp. The sinister Friday the 13th had lasted to this day even considering the fact that Jason killed whenever he pleased.

It was no surprise to any that Diana had organized a playlist just for music relevant to the world of Jason Voorhees. She turned up the volume and moved her head in a rhythmic fashion.

There was a man so cold no life was in his eyes. He had a look so hard I've never seen him smile.

If you can't beat her, join her, was Henry's motto in regards to his best friend.

He hummed along in tune with the song. Henry did enjoy many varieties of music, and despite the images in his mind when "His Eyes" was played, the song was pretty cool. As Diana brought the car to a halt at a traffic light, it seemed that the drama over that so called fan club was forgotten.

That was soon proven wrong when Diana looked over at the parking area of the movie theater. At first, she was reminded of a movie based on the Crystal Lake murders. The film was in the late production stages right now, set to be released around Halloween. Diana planned on attending the midnight showing in her area, most likely while dragging a sighing Henry along. Even if it was an actor playing the legendary killer on screen, it would probably be the closest Diana would ever get.

The pleasantry of thinking about the movie dashed away to anger at the girl walking into Diana's point of vision. Diana recognized her as being one of the group members, clearly too afraid to get involved in the drama of Diana's rejection. Nope, she didn't dare say a word in her defense. Just wanted to have fun and continue with their little charade of a horror club. She was laughing with another friend, that amber hair they had called so beautiful, flowing back in the wind.

Diana clutched the steering wheel even tighter. It was like she didn't know who would wholeheartedly understand.

"Stupid girls," she spoke in bitterness. "They're only driven by their ignorant, romantic notions, and they hate me for what? For actually knowing what I'm talking about?"

Henry took a few seconds to think of something reassuring. The traffic light turned green, and Diana stomped on the accelerator, fueled by her resentful mood. Henry jerked back in his seat, the seat belt not really aiding him against his friend's outburst. A very good interruption for whatever he was about to say. Perhaps Diana refused any input telling her she was wrong.

She continued to drive, testing the speed limit from that point onward. Henry was rendered silent. He leaned back and listened to the next song in Diana's playlist, Alice Cooper's, "The Man Behind the Mask." He took a break from the pressure of that college visit, and thus didn't see the tears welling in Diana's eyes.

A Jasonette attempts to seek understanding for her passion. Her heart beats down a hallway away from the lights shutting off behind her as more souls close all ties to her. She runs desperately to find an empathetic face in the lights ahead. But the more she tries, the fewer lights are left until she finds herself alone in an unforgiving darkness.